#buddy the room was giving us lead poisoning the whole time and the rest of us have accepted that and we are all outside doing other things.

[alagaisia]

Hey if you’re still enjoying and engaging with Harry Potter in any capacity you can unfollow me 😊 please and thank you

Like. I get it. I was super into it as a kid too. I did not have the social context to pick up on the antisemitism or transphobia or sexism or fatphobia or bioessentialism or racism or anything else. I also picked up on surface-level language of Fighting Back Against Evil and ascribed my own values onto what that meant and thought we were all on the same page. I remember when the original kids who grew up with the books started becoming adult fans and picking up on the (blatant!) antisemitism and everybody was still mostly willing to give JKR the benefit of the doubt on it. (“She was writing kids books!” They said. “She didn’t know she was penning a global phenomenon! She picked a common literary trend in European fairy tales (antisemitic caricature) and didn’t examine it closely. It’s a mistake anyone could make,” we said. “She would probably do things differently now. After all, she word-of-god confirmed the vaguest hints she dropped that Dumbledore might be gay,” we said.) There was actually a span of several years where biases inherent in the actual real content of the Harry Potter series were coming to light and even the people pointing them out still seemed mostly to think it was an unfortunate accident.

That time has passed. Years ago! We are long past the first months of “maybe she doesn’t realize this seemingly-feminist tweet she liked was made by a noted TERF” and then “how could she not realize that these many veiled TERF-y things she’s retweeted have implications for the many queer fans of her work” and finally “oh wow okay JKR just dropped an entire transphobic manifesto on twitter. I guess the transphobia was the point.”

Yeah, there were a few months after that where people were still processing and still working through how they felt about Harry Potter and all of its flaws with the context of the now open transphobia of the creator. I was there for that. Remember how I was one of the kids who built it up into something noble and worthwhile based on my own beliefs about what messages it was probably trying to convey? Turns out it wasn’t trying to say any of those things, and when you take the time to examine all of the terrible shit that made its way into the text whether JKR intended it to be there or not, the whole series falls apart. It’s weird to discover that there’s a room in your house that’s rotten to the core, but eventually you figure out you can’t live like that, still going in there and holding your nose and pretending it’s still the same room you thought it was when the termites were only inside of the walls and hadn’t yet started chewing their way through the furniture. Because what’s going to happen is that they are going to infest the rest of your house. If you decide you can ignore transphobia and antisemitism and everything else just because you liked the color of the wallpaper, the rest of your principles are going to crumble too. You get rid of that fucking room. You put those books on a high shelf in the back of your closet behind other outgrown clothes and interests and you move the fuck on.

JKR uses the money made from her transphobic antisemitic children’s books to actively funding hate groups and to lobby for legislation that will and has actually affected the actual lives of trans people in an entire country. We are past the point of grieving something you were wrong about in childhood. Kids are wrong about a lot of stuff. You grow up and you learn new information and you change your behaviors based on it. You have to choose. It is transphobic to pretend there is not transphobia where there is. It is transphobic to support the work of someone who is using those funds to take rights from trans people with every fucking dollar. It is hateful to continue to engage positively with a story that at its very core is rooted in hate and bigotry and prejudice. You can choose to do all of those things but you cannot claim ignorance of them and you cannot choose those things and still pretend that choosing them upholds the values we convinced ourselves that Harry Potter stood for over a decade ago as uninformed children. You cannot choose to do those things and pretend to still support your trans and queer and Jewish neighbors. I do not want you in my neighborhood. Leave.

[remakethestars]

CABIN 7 — APOLLO

Headcanons.

❝There ought to be more drama, I think. A musical crescendo. Confetti.❞

— Jess Cooper, I Am Still Alive

Headcanon masterlist.

Oh, boy — this is my cabin, y'all; buckle up! 😁

Not all Apollo kids are good at everything their dad's good at, okay? I sure as heck can’t paint or play an instrument. 

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of violence?

They run an underground tattoo parlor.

That's where Will & Butch got their respective sun & rainbow tats.

Apollo kids with lyrics tattooed into their skin.

Rick says there isn't much by way of décor inside, which is f*in' B.S. Apollo's the god of art; those walls have been graffitied Tangled style.

🎶 i'll paint the walls some more — i'm sure there's room somewhere! 🎶

The east wall is covered in a landscape of a sunrise, & the west has a sunset (because the sun rises in the east & sets in the — yeah, I'll see myself out).

The north & south walls & the ceiling are white, though, because it really brightens/opens up the space (C7 has the 2ⁿᵈ most campers under C11 because Apollo's a slut; things can get a little crowded in the summer).

When there’re celebrations, the artistically inclined kids bust out the face paint. Especially for the younger campers.

The artistically inclined are the ones that paint the camp beads for the end of the summer. Despite the numbers, it doesn’t take them as long as one might think.

Rick said the ceiling had cedar beams, but we're not gonna do Cyparissius dirty like that. Cypress wood is good for building; the beams are cypress. You know what? F*ck you — the whole dang cabin's cypress!

There’s a massive, potted aloe vera plant by the steps that gets moved into the C4 greenhouse in the winter. It’s one of those old ones — because everyone knows the old aloe plants work better for burns & blisters than these sh¡tty new ones. (It’s constantly getting broken off to heal burns & stuff.) 

Rick said there are potted red & purple hyacinths in the window & yellow flowers from Delos. That's true.

I'd say the flowerbeds around the cabin are full of healing plants, but I feel like they'd be better off around the infirmary for obvious reasons.

I do feel like there's a laurel tree planted outside C7, though, because Apollo's a pining b¡tch.

And there's an actual infirmary building, okay? Rick's kinda inconsistent about that. Sometimes he says "infirmary," sometimes he says the Big House is running over with injured, & apparently there's a cot dead center for injured in C7? B.S.

Or maybe I've just read too much fanfic, and the authors don't get it right?

Either way, there's an infirmary building with surgery & delivery rooms. One floor. Locker room for C7 kids to store their scrubs & sh¡t.

They go for yellow scrubs, though, because orange C.H.B. scrubs make them look like escaped convicts.

Fun Band-Aids™

They give out little orange stickers with laurels around the edges that are like I voted! stickers, but they're injury-specific.

I got my leg(s) reattached! & Percy Jackson shot me in the butt! & I ticked off Clarisse! & I made out with an Aphrodite kid in the poison ivy! & I fell off the lava wall! & I got pranked by the Stolls!

After a war or just when there’re a lot of campers in the infirmary, there seems to be a constant flow of Apollo kids singing one hymn to their father in unison to heal someone.

Sometimes, an unconscious camper wakes in a cot & thinks they’ve died & gone to the wrong afterlife for a moment because their singing sounds like angels. 

The medically inclined wash their hands like surgeons. 

Kind of germophobic?

They also go around tying surgeons knots in everything.

In the summer, they’re walking Banana Boat sunscreen & after-sun aloe lotion dispensers.

The medically inclined also have the world’s sh¡ttiest handwriting.

They have to work hard to fix it if it bothers them. 

Can check your vitals & run a blood test just by touching you.

A lot of them casually touch their loved ones (at least, the ones that aren’t in C7) every morning to check their vitals & see how their health’s doing.

They do it subconsciously every time they touch someone & don’t notice it until they pick up something’s wrong.

They can do this for themselves as well. Though it may not be as accurate? And they take daily vitamins depending on what they need.

Organize their lives via pill box (never lose an earring).

Fight surgically. Every blade in their hands becomes a scalpel, & every time they’re going in for a kill against an armed anthropomorphic monster, they slice the tendons in its arm required to grip its weapon to disable it before going in for the kill.

Back to C7, it’s got a little porch with a porch swing. The kids sit on it sometimes & teach people how to play instruments.

They leave the porch light on at night when they’re waiting for one of their siblings to come home from a quest.

Jumping into the depressing sh¡t, they never found Michael’s body, so they only presumed him dead. They leave the porch light on every night now, hoping he’ll come home.

Apollo kids are afraid of the dark. They use the buddy system after the sun goes down. 

The cabin’s central light fixture is a papier-mâché sun that’s been charmed to glow when someone sings 🎶 clap on 🎶 & stop glowing when someone sings 🎶 clap off. 🎶

The curtains are a gold fabric. They’re only closed at night. Because, again, C7 kids are afraid of the dark.

The Wikipedia says Apollo kids are cursed to be afraid of snakes (I assume by the Python Apollo killed). I feel like they’d burn a lot of aster leaves then. I read somewhere it was said by the Greeks to ward off evil spirits & snakes.

They play Go Fish with their tarot cards. They’re really good at tarot games.

Hand-drawn tarot decks featuring figures form Greek myth.

There’s a target on the back wall they practice throwing cards at. They can throw them in combat for a distraction with terrifying accuracy. 

There’s a Magic 8 ball that’s passed around on the Winter Solstice (the longest night of the year), when — as a headcanon I’m sure I’ve read somewhere has indicated — they’re up all night.

Crystal balls are allowed. However, they must be covered with a cloth or placed in a box when not in use because they’re double-convex lenses, & we don’t want another incident like the fire of 1993.

Sometimes, they make little predictions throughout the day other campers may find disturbing. Such as whipping around and catching a stray arrow without warning (spidey sense?). Or cutting you off when you’re talking about someone moments before they walk into the room.

There’s a tea cart in the corner. Because tea is good for healing & they’ve accumulated an addiction.

The cart has a radio on it that’s always on at night because a lot of C7 kids can’t sleep without noise. (Inspired by @sugarandspiceandkindanice.)

Most of the time, it’s on a nearby country station that actually plays good country at night. But sometimes they switch channels — especially when there’s a new kid settling in & they could use the comfort.

There’s a portable record player there too. The shelves under the cart are full of C.D.s & records.

I’m sure I’ve read a headcanon somewhere that they sing every morning while getting ready for the day. That’s true.

The number of times it’s been “When Will My Life Begin” from Tangled is disturbing, though. 

🎶 seven a.m., the usual morning lineup! 🎶

Luke said in The Lightning Thief C11 is up at 07:00 & breakfast is at 08:00, I think, but we all know Apollo’s waking his kids up when the sun rises. 

A lot of the time, someone will just start out with whatever song they have stuck in their head & everyone else will pick it up.

Sometimes, this leads to members having the aforementioned song stuck in their head for the rest of the day.

Even the people who aren’t musically inclined will sing along, as they’re usually drowned out by the music kids that get really into it.

So sometimes those not-music kids will find themselves singing by themselves during the day years later & are surprised to find — they actually sound good?? Or at least not bad??? And it’s because singing is a learned skill & they picked it up.

I’m sure I’ve also read a headcanon somewhere that they sing “Look Down” from Les Mis when they have to do menial chores, but I'm adding “It’s a Hard-Knock Life” from Annie, “Whistle While You Work” from Snow White, “Happy Working Song” from Enchanted, & the Smurf song.

They break into song all the time.

Lee was glaring at Tantalus once & made the mistake of saying, “Sometimes, I wish —” and the entire cabin broke out with “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

🎶 — i'd never been born at all! carry on, carry on… 🎶

As mentioned in at least The Lightning Thief & The Lost Hero, they spend a lot of time playing basketball. You can bet your butt they do a rendition of “Getcha Head in the Game” from High School Musical every time there’s a new camper passing by.

They have a sister named Jubilee, and every time someone greets her — "Hey, Jube!" — the entire cabin breaks into “Hey, Jude” by The Beetles.

🎶 hey, Jube! don't make it bad. take a sad song & make it better… 🎶

Sometimes, if there are two campers that really need to get together, C10′ll commission C7 to sing “Kiss the Girl” from The Little Mermaid (or the same song with different pronouns, obviously). 

It’s usually a capella unless someone happens to have an instrument on them.

Rickrolling. 

The “Macarena.” 

Apollo takes clandestine recordings of their jam sessions & distributes them professionally. Whatever money’s made goes directly into their college funds or they periodically find it under their pillow tooth-fairy-style.

There’s a lot of denim because the artistic members like to paint on the backs of jackets & the pockets of jeans.

A lot of them have excellent aim with most projectiles, so they toss stuff to each other a lot. This results in them being oddly in sync, so they can catch something from another sibling without warning & without looking like Sam & Dean Winchester do in Supernatural. 

Their life looks like a Dude Perfect trick shot video. 

It also results in some funny looks when they hurl things halfway across camp to each other. Namely, the whistling Nerf football. 

C7 is two stories. The second story has paint on every wall. 

The east wall upstairs has arrows mounted that got Robin Hooded along with a little tag with the name of the C7 kid & the date it happened.

They also have arrows mounted from the first bullseye if there’s a member being taught. 

Lots of musical instruments & art supplies up there.

There’s an old T.V. up there. They have all of Bob Ross’s show on V.H.S.

C7′s south wall (ground floor) holds the door to the bathroom on one side & a door leading to the stairs. 

It also hosts framed photos of Charlotte, Lee, & Michael.

Instead of saying “shoot,” they say “loose.” For everything. Instead of saying “Shoot!” when they drop something, they say “Loose!” 

It's kinda one of those things — like your friend starts saying something & you just integrate it into your vocabulary subconsciously.

They like to play a game where you shoot an arrow straight up & try to catch it as it comes back down.

That sounds really stupid on their part, but it actually comes in handy when someone tries to shoot them in combat & they catch the arrow, dumbfounding whoever's attempted to skewer them.

The cresting on their arrows is in Morse code of their nickname (·—— ·· ·—·· ·—··). They can take one look at an arrow & tell what’s whose.

And the paint color of the cresting tells them what kind of arrow it is — bullet tip, broadhead, explosive, etc. 

Every bunk in C7 is made with hospital corners. No exceptions. The kids who aren’t medically inclined learn because all the beds being made the same way makes it look cleaner for inspection.

I can’t decide if Apollo kids have really good eyesight so they fit the Hawkeye bill or if they’ve all just read — Apollo’s the god of knowledge — & painted so much they’ve messed up their eyes.

The number of times one of them has used bowstring wax on an art project in a rush instead of glue is hilariously large.

I use String Snot, and it comes in a container that looks like a glue stick.

A lot of them wear bracers all the time.

When the time it takes to sling one’s quiver onto one’s back, grab one’s bow, knock an arrow, & draw is so long, one really doesn’t have time to also strap on their bracers before rushing out of the cabin to threaten a giant bronze dragon.

Not to mention if they use a recurve, they’ll also have to string their bow.

And a number of them do use recurves due to the abilities to both knock multiple arrows at once & to restring in the field.

Bows with risers coated in golden, reflective paint & limbs painted with artistic strokes.

Trick arrows are their jam. C9 is constantly being asked for new arrows.

Explosive arrows, sonic arrows, grappling hook arrows…

That’s another saying they’ve all taken to: “___ is my jam!”

There’s a bookshelf or reference material on Apollo for new C7 kids (as Rick’s indicated), but the rest of the case is full of medical journals & textbooks & books on art & poetry & divining the future.

A lot — if not all — of them have either gold flecks in their eyes or central heterochromia.

Freckles across their noses & shoulders & on the tips of their ears. Tans. Sun-bleached hair. 

Long, nimble fingers perfect for playing musical instruments.

Either they hate the winter because the sun's out for less time (so you’ll find them walking around with blanched skin & faded freckles & with both a hoody & a parka on), or they’re perfectly fine with winter & are used by everyone around them as walking space heaters. 

They spend a lot of time with Castor & Pollux. 

Rachel sits at T7. She’s practically an Apollo kid at this point. 

While her cave was being renovated, she stayed in C7.

Their dad’s the god of truth; none of these M.F.s can lie worth a sh¡t. 

But, by the gods, they can tell when you’re lying.

And they take it as a personal insult. That you (A) would dare do something as immoral as lying in the first place & that you (B) would dare to insult their intelligence in such a way because you thought they couldn’t tell.

C6 & C7 are both known for reacting outrageously when their intelligence is insulted (see: chapter 10 of The Battle of the Labyrinth). 

The more civil of the reactions of a C7 kid being lied to is cursing the liar to tell the truth, which I believe they can. 

They can curse you to speak in rhyming couplets; they should be able to curse you to tell the truth.

You mean to tell me none of these kids have created a functioning Lasso of Truth yet?

This one's really long. 😅

A lot of people fancast Sam Claflin as Apollo, but I'm going with Ross Lynch. 'Cause I do what I want. 😎

Visit my Apollo cabin Pinterest board or my headcanon masterlist.

DISCLAIMER ━━━ These headcanons are what I consider to be canon in my fanfictions. They may be others’s headcanons I’ve subconsciously filed away in my noggin. If one’s yours and you want it removed or credited, please send me your post and let me know.

[holdingforgeneralhugs]

Bitter Pill to Swallow

Chapter 3 (Ch.2, Ch.1)

Thank you again to the lovely @tvserie-s-world for letting me use her screencaps💕

"Curahee!"

Valarie grinned as she cheered along with her fellow paratroopers. Liebgott managed to slosh some of his drink onto her boots but she couldn't bring herself to get mad about it. After the thrill of completing the five qualifying jumps and managing not to vomit during any of them, Valerie and the rest of Easy felt like they were on top of the world.

She spotted Gene getting a drink at the bar and wandered over to him. He jumped when she clapped him on the shoulder, whacking her in the arm good naturedly for frightening him. Valerie grinned before turning to George who had just popped up with a drink for Gene.

"Hey Georgie, you got another one of those beers under there for me?" She asked.

"That depends," George responded cheekily, "you gonna tell me the magic word of the night?"

"The magic word of the night," Valerie teased, "is kiss my ass and gimme a beer Luz."

George smirked and reached under the counter, pulling out a full glass and planting it firmly on the counter in front of her. He got a mischievous twinkle in his eye then and reached under to grab a glass for himself.

"Now in response to your cheek," stated Luz, in a scarily accurate impersonation of Sink, "I'll have to challenge you to a contest. Whoever downs their drink the quickest gets a full pack of lucky strikes."

"Well how could I back down from a challenge like that," smirked Valerie. "You wanna get in on the fun Gene?" She asked, laughing when Gene vehemently shook his head.

"Oh no, I'm quite happy to drink my beer and watch you two act the fool," he retorted, sipping his drink and leaning against the counter. George and Valerie shared a look, and with a nod they raced to down their drinks. Clearly they'd drawn a crowd, because she could hear the guys shouting out a countdown around her. With a gasp she slammed her glass on the counter, and cried out in dismay when she realised George had just beat her.

"C'mon Val, hand em over," he teased, holding out his hand and fluttering his fingers. She grumbled something about him obviously cheating before pressing her precious box of lucky strikes into his palm. He opened them gleefully and plucked one out for himself before holding out the box to her.

"Aw c'mon Val, you didn't think I'd take em and not offer you one as a peace offering did ya?"

She rolled her eyes but took one gratefully, nodding her thanks to him when he lit it for her. He placed another drink on the counter for her and she took a sip, content to enjoy this glass.

Toye and the mortar gang had decided to stick around at the bar, and she laughed with them as they challenged each other to drinking games. She almost choked on her drink when Skip spilled beer all down his shirt in his eagerness to beat Penk, who was surprisingly good at downing drinks.

"Hate to interrupt your fun fellas, but I was wondering if I could have a word with Lieutenant Landry."

She went stiff in her seat, cigarette in hand suspended right in front of her lips. She glanced to her right and met Gene's eyes, and he was giving her a very pointed look. She glared back at him before turning around and facing her fellow Lieutenant. He gestured towards a quieter corner and she nodded, following him without a word. She smoked her cigarette harshly, wondering what he could possibly want with her tonight of all nights.

"So," he started cautiously, "The batallion officers are drinking in another room to let the enlisted men enjoy themselves here. Nix, Welsh and I were wondering if you'd like to join us?"

She stared back at him sceptically. Outside of the necessary consultations on exercises they hadn't spoken since their argument, and she wasn't quite sure what to say now that he was.

He could sense her hesitation and sighed softly. "Look Landry, I know we haven't exactly gotten off on the right foot but we're celebrating tonight, so how about we put all that aside and enjoy a well deserved night off?"

She contemplated that for a moment, but she agreed that a night off was well deserved, and the men would probably have more fun without any officers breathing down their necks.

"Alright then," she sighed, "lead the way."

He seemed almost surprised that she'd agreed so easily, but he recovered quickly and led her out of the room and down the hall to a smaller room.

"Hell Landry, what a delightful surprise," grinned Lewis when he spotted her walking in behind his friend. He was standing behind the bar and pouring a very generous helping of VAT 69 for himself.

"Don't get used to it Nixon," she shot back.

"Oh don't worry," he replied nonchalantly as she took a seat at the bar, "we're all very aware that you prefer the enlisted men to us 'stuffy' officers."

Ah, so he'd overheard her talking to Bill that day he'd asked her why she was hardly ever with the other officers. "Yeah well, ain't my fault you all wouldn't know fun if it slapped ya," she retorted. Lewis and Harry exchanged a glanced and then burst out laughing.

"You know what Landry," Lewis chuckled, "you're not half bad. What's your poison then? Or are you on the soda water with Dick here?"

"Why am I not surprised Saint Winters doesn't drink?" She snarked, rolling her eyes, "I'll have some of that VAT 69 if you please."

He looked sideways to Dick at her comment, and if he didn't know him so well he would have missed the slight tick in his jaw. Lewis decided to note that down to ask him about it later.  He poured Valerie a generous glass, and whistled in surprise when she downed it in one and put the glass back down in front of him expectantly.

"Hell Nix," chuckled Harry, "I think you may have met your match on the drinking front." Lewis smirked as he poured her another and topped up his own glass. He picked up his and tilted it towards her expectantly.

"I think Harry here may be on to something there," he grinned, "what d'ya say Landry, why don't we start anew and be drinking buddies?"

Valerie sized him up for a moment, contemplating. She'd tended to avoid spending much time with her fellow Easy officers, preferring the company of the enlisted men. She still maintained they were stuffy as hell, but maybe they weren't all bad. Sure, Nixon was another rich jerk from another posh college, but he did seem like the kind of guy who knew how to have a good time. As for Welsh, he was a late addition to the crew and she hadn't exactly taken too much troubles to talk to him. Maybe if she gave them a chance she might grow to like them.

"Hell Landry, you sure know how to keep a guy hanging," quipped Lewis, shaking his glass in front of hers. She rolled her eyes at his impatience but smiled slightly as she clinked her glass against his and they downed their drinks in unison.

"Well I wouldn't want to seem too eager, now would I?" She smirked, sliding her glass across the counter for another. He raised an eyebrow at her sceptically and she narrowed her eyes at him as if to say 'are you doubting I can handle it?' He poured again and watched with fascination as she downed it.

"Jesus Landry you really are somethin' else aren't you?" He laughed.

"I'm here all week folks," she grinned, spreading her arms and doing a mock bow, with Harry and Lewis joining in with a round of applause. It was fun, they were fun, and she thought that maybe, just maybe giving them a chance wouldn't be so bad after all.

She felt a pair of eyes on her and when she looked beyond Harry she was unsurprised to find two blue eyes watching her intently.

"Something you'd like to say Winters?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at him. He sat up a little straighter then and cleared his throat, clearly not expecting she'd pay him any mind.

"Well, I...was just thinking to myself that I'd never met a lady that could drink like that," he replied honestly. Valerie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"Well then it's lucky I ain't no lady, as I've already told you," she replied dismissively, "and there's a whole lotta things you don't know about me."

"Well it'd be hard to know anything about you since you hardly ever talk to us."

Lewis eyed his friend in surprise, and he shared a look with an equally shocked Harry. He subtly poured himself and Harry another drink and sat back to see how it would all play out.

"Well maybe I would talk to you more if you weren't so godamn stiff. You got the rule book stuck up your ass or something?" Valerie snapped. Dick gazed back at her, his jaw clenching and his eyebrows furrowed.

"And maybe if you weren't so argumentative, or didn't act like you were so much better than us, you wouldn't be such a chore to be around."

His eyes widened the minute he realised what he'd said, and she could see that he was about to try and apologise for it, not that she would give him the chance. He'd meant every word of what he said, and they all knew it.

"Well I'll be sure not to impose on your time any longer," she hissed, pushing her glass across the counter and standing abruptly. "Lewis, Harry, it's been fun. We should do it again sometime."

Without waiting for a response she marched from the room.  Lewis and Harry watched her walk out the door before turning to Dick with barely smothered smirks.

"Wow Dick," Lewis said, "I've never seen you get so animated. What's going on with there?"

"Yeah," chimed Harry, "I didn't think anyone could get under your skin."

Dick finished off his own drink and placed the glass on the counter, unwilling to meet their eyes. "There's nothing going on," he stated as he pulled on his coat, "Now if you don't mind I'm gonna hit the hay. I'll see you two in the morning."

"Aw c'mon Dick don't be like that," pleaded Lewis, "there's clearly something going on."

Dick shook his head and bid them both goodnight as he walked out the door.

"I'll get it out of him yet, don't you worry," promised Lewis, pouring himself and Harry another drink. There was clearly something with those two and he'd be dammed if he was left out of the loop.

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @generousdreamlanddestiny @sunsetmando @geniedocroe

[missjanjie]

Taste of a Poison Paradise | Chapter 9

Title: Taste of a Poison Paradise Summary: Life at Jackie Cox’s strip club, Poison Paradise, isn’t just lapdances and g-strings. There’s enough drama, lust, and heartache to rival any soap opera. None of the girls know what to expect on any given shift, especially while navigating their torrid, complicated relationships. Word Count: ~2.9k (this chapter) / ~27.2k (total) Relationship(s): Lemyanka (Lemon/Priyanka), Crygi (Crystal Methyd/Gigi Goode), Sportsdoll (Jan Sport/Nicky Doll), Jaidie (Jaida Essence Hall/Jackie Cox), BVK (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo/Kameron Michaels), Rosnali (Rosé/Denali Foxx) Rating: E TW: mentions of alcoholism

Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi

Chapter Summary: In the wake of Lemon's outburst at the club, those closest to her process the fallout and realize something needs to be done before she spirals to the point of no return.

-

“Okay, I think that’s the last box,” Juice remarked as she dropped herself down onto the couch. “So, why’d your cousin kick you out again?”

Lemon scoffed and rolled her eyes as she piled up the empty boxes. “She didn’t kick me out, we both decided it was time for me to move.” She decided her college friend-turned-roommate didn’t need to know about the argument she had with Rosé. And she certainly didn’t need to know that she’d rejected her ultimatum of, “if you want to stay here, you can’t keep getting drunk every day.” It had been a week since the incident at the club and she was going to recover from it on her own terms.

“Alright, cool,” she shrugged as she took out her phone and began aimlessly scrolling. “You wanna do something tonight?”

The blonde perched herself on the armrest of the couch, swinging her legs. “We could go to a club and get shitfaced,” she suggested.

Juice shook her head without looking up from her phone. “You can. I mean, I’ll totally go with you and turn shit up, but I don’t drink.”

“More for me.”

Her friend looked her over with a concerned expression, eyes finally pried away from the screen. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked gently. “I mean, I know you’ve been through a lot, have you considered talking to someone about it?”

Lemon shook her head. “I’m fine, I don’t have the emotional capacity for therapy.” She got back up and looked around. “Shit, I guess you don’t have any liquor in here then. I’ll be back,” and after putting her shoes on and grabbing her purse, she was out the door, leaving a concerned new roommate in her wake.

------

Rosé sighed as she passed the joint back to Mik. “This doesn’t make me a bad person, right? I mean the last thing I want to do is make Lemon’s issues about me. But god, that really is what made me realize that I have to do this.”

Mik shook her head as she took a hit. “It’s not your fault, you saw a trainwreck and realized you needed to keep your ass on the tracks.” She finished off the joint and put it out. “Listen, the last thing you wanna do is be that girl who pines over the person she’s sleeping with until it’s too late.”

“You’re right, I know. I’m gonna talk to her,” she exhaled deeply as she pushed herself up. “If Lemon comes around, please don’t have sex with her.”

“Oh fuck off,” she huffed, “that delayed her mental breakdown by at least a week.”

Rosé rolled her eyes as she left. She wasn’t mad at Mik for that, if anything maybe it did help Lemon temporarily by giving her a distraction. But she had so much more on her mind, things that have been brewing since the club incident.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she knocked on Denali’s door, evening out her breathing while she waited for her.

“Hey Rosie,” Denali smiled warmly as she opened the door, leading her inside and shutting it behind them. “What’s up? You usually text me when you’re on your way over.” They sat down on the couch as she spoke, a tinge of concern in her voice.

She swallowed thickly, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. “I know I’ve been distant lately with everything that’s been happening with Lemon. But through all the chaos, I realized something, that keeping your feelings bottled up is dangerous.” Another deep breath, this time she forced herself to look into Denali’s eyes, eyes that she found warmth and comfort in every time she gazed into them. “What I’m trying to say is that I have feelings for you. I don’t just wanna be fuck buddies, it’s not enough. I need all of you.”

Denali blinked, taking her time to process Rosé’s confession. At first it was pure surprise, but once she let it sink in, it clicked that she felt the same way, that she had been falling for her all along without realizing it. “You have all of me,” she told her, cupping her face and pressing a deep kiss to her lips.

In that moment, a weight lifted from Rosé’s chest. If only for the duration of a kiss, she could pretend nothing in the world existed outside of Denali’s apartment. She could stop thinking, stop worrying. It was only them, everything else faded to black. “Are we alone?” she asked against her lips.

“Mhm,” she nodded, a slight smirk tugging at her lips, able to fill in the blanks from there. Her hands traveled down Rosé’s body, tugging off her shirt in one swift motion, her own following suit, though they took their time undressing each other, letting their fingers and lips gently caress each other’s skin.

By the time they were both completely undressed, they had gotten each other thoroughly worked up. Rosé had Denali sit up on the couch, then got on her knees in front of her, pushing her thighs apart. She moved in between them, dragging her tongue along her pussy before circling, then sucking on her clit as she eased a finger into her.

Denali’s head lolled back to rest against the back of the couch, a pleased moan escaping. “Mm, Rosie…” she exhaled, her hips pushing up when Rosé slid in a second finger. “Baby, just like that, feels so good.”

She basked in the praise, continuing her movements, occasionally switching her tongue and her fingers, but never leaving her unattended. She was focused and fervent, bringing Denali to an orgasm as quickly as she could, as if she were setting it as a challenge to herself. Once she’d won her game, she pulled back with a smile, gazing up at her. “God, you’re beautiful.”

“And you’re sappy,” she teased affectionately, leaning down to kiss her. “Come on,” she got up and pulled Rosé to her feet, “we can cuddle until I gotta get ready for my shift.”

------

Nicky watched Jan with a concerned expression. She wished she knew what to do, how to talk to her and help her. Ever since the incident at the club, she had been quiet, withdrawn, two words she would never think to associate with the bubbly woman she loved so dearly. It killed her to see her girlfriend hurting, enough for her to put her aversion to emotional conversations aside as she sat beside her on the couch, gently taking her hand. “Please tell me what’s wrong. You haven’t been the same since what happened with Lemon and I’m worried about you.”

Jan chewed on her lip, her gaze downcast. Logically, she knew she couldn’t avoid this conversation forever, but it didn’t make it any easier. “Lemon is like a sister to me and I’m worried about her. I know what alcoholism looks like… and I know what it can do to someone, it’s not pretty.”

She furrowed her brows, shifting closer to the younger woman. “What do you mean?”

“Well, um…” she swallowed thickly, “my dad’s five years sober now, but it hit a nasty low before it got better. I-I don’t know what that low would be for Lemon, I’m afraid she’s hit it, but I’m even more afraid she hasn’t.”

Nicky nodded as she listened. She had suspected Lemon might have developed a bit of a drinking habit, but not the severity, and certainly not the effect it would have on Jan. “I am so sorry about your father, and about Lemon. Is there anything we can do?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “My dad went to rehab while I was away at college, but I imagine my mom laid down some ultimatums, but I don’t know if Lemon thinks she has anything left to lose.”

“There has to be some way, and I'm going to help you find it,” she promised.

------

“Thank you all for meeting me here,” Juice said as she looked around the two pushed-together tables in the diner. “For those of you who don’t know, my name is Julia - Juice - and Lemon moved in with me about four days ago.”

“What happened?” Rosé immediately asked. “Is she okay?”

The blonde hesitated and looked down at the table. “Technically yes, she’s nursing a hangover at home right now but otherwise fine, unless she’s started day drinking. But there’s a bigger issue, and I’m sure you guys have started to suspect as much. What I’m trying to say is she’s developing an alcohol problem, and if we don’t do something about it now, it could get much worse.”

Everyone else had similar expressions - sadness, concern, anxiety. But none of them were surprised. “What do we do, then?” Rosé asked, breaking a tense moment of silence.

“Listen, I’m not claiming to be an expert. I’m twenty-two, sober for eight months now, so I can relate to how she’s feeling. What she’s going to need is everyone to rally around her, because it won’t be easy to convince her to get help.”

“So can we stage an intervention?” Jaida asked. “Do you have someone we can talk to?”

Juice nodded. “I can talk to my sponsor and have her put us in touch with someone who can get her into a detox, put the whole thing together. It goes so far beyond just telling her to stop drinking, especially in a club environment.”

“Speaking of the club environment,” Gigi chimed in, “we have to address the elephant in the room. What are we gonna do about the Priyanka situation? She told Crystal she’s taking a day job until things cool off, but if Lemon gets help… maybe that’ll expedite the process.”

Jackie sighed, but agreed. “I can open auditions to take on another dancer temporarily, I don’t know how long she’s gonna need, but assuming she chooses to get help, I want her to know she has a place to come back to.” She was quiet for a moment, then added, “I’m going to reach out to Priyanka too, I know she hasn’t been answering most of our calls or texts, but I think I might be able to get through to her.”

“My god, we’ve been so caught up with Lemon, we’ve barely kept up with Pri. Are we bad friends?” Jan asked, feeling a mix of guilt and sadness.

Juice shook her head. “No, of course not. Everyone here is doing their best. You guys reach out to Priyanka and figure out a way to get Lemon to the intervention when the time comes, I’ll do what I can on my part.” From there, they all just had to hope for the best.

------

Jackie took a deep breath, making sure she was calm and collected before knocking on the door. When a woman with black hair and tattoos opened the door, she greeted her politely. “Hi, you must be Scarlett. Um, can you tell Priyanka that Jackie’s here to see her?”

Scarlett nodded, disappearing back into her apartment. There was a solid few minutes of waiting, but Priyanka eventually came to the door. “Hey,” she greeted meekly and led Jackie inside.

Jackie sat at the edge of the bed in the guest room Priyanka had been staying in. “How have you been? You know we’re all worried about you.”

Priyanka’s gaze never left the floor. She picked pieces of lint off of her shorts as she sat down as well, swinging her legs aimlessly. How could she even begin to tackle that question when everything she had ever known had changed overnight? How can anyone process that sort of thing? “Scarlett convinced me to try therapy. I’ve had a couple sessions so far… It helped, I think, but it’s just scratching the surface, you know?”

She listened attentively, nodding along. “I’m proud of you for that. How did your family react when you and Mark broke up?”

“It’s funny, as angry as he was, he didn’t out me. He said it’s clear I have my own problems to work through. My mom was furious that the wedding was called off, so I threw in the ‘I like girls’ news because, well, it couldn’t get any worse,” she sighed. “I don’t think it’s fully hit her yet. She asked me if it was an excuse to get out of the wedding. I haven’t heard back since I told her it was the truth, and I haven’t heard from my dad at all.” She laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I couldn’t even say that I’m gay. It’s too much, I can’t just be gay,” she sat back up and grabbed a tissue, quickly dabbing the corners of her eyes. “How do you get past it, Jackie? How do you stop being afraid of yourself?”

Jackie pressed her lips together as she tried to articulate an answer. “There’s no easy solution, but I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now. I don’t think I was ever ready to be gay, one day I just came to terms with the fact that I was miserable trying to avoid my own truth and that the only way I was ever going to be happy was by loving even the scariest parts of myself.”

Priyanka went quiet again, crumpling the tissue in her hand and staring at it as if the answers were there. “So you don’t think I’ll be able to be fully happy until I embrace being gay?”

“That’s for you to decide. But think of it this way; when you think about your future, best case scenario, what is it in your life that’s making you happy?”

The answer for that wasn’t in her hand, it was in her heart. It made its way into her throat, choking her from the inside and making her pulse race. After everything, it nearly made her angry that it felt inevitable. “Lemon.”

------

“Juice just texted me that they’re on the way,” Rosé read off her phone, her free hand squeezing Denali’s tight, her leg bouncing anxiously.

The woman they’d brought in to help Lemon, Widow, nodded calmly. “Remember, at the end of the day we are here to help her. We’re not punishing or lecturing her, but we have to be firm.”

After another review of the plan, they heard the door open and looked up to see the two girls walk in, Lemon’s expression immediately becoming confused as she looked around. “Are you guys fucking intervention-ing me?” she asked as she took the empty seat to the right of Rosé.

“Lemon, your friends and family are here because they care about you and are worried about your health,” Widow explained. “Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘this bitch wants to send me to some random rehab until I come back sober for good’, but this isn’t like that. We get that you’re twenty-one, fresh out of college, no history of addiction.”

“So why am I here?” Lemon interjected.

Rosé arched her brow. “Well, for starters, you haven’t been sober a full twenty-four hours in nearly three weeks, you’ve been acting completely unhinged every time you get trashed. You’re actively trying to alienate yourself from everyone who cares about you, you-” She stopped short when Denali squeezed her hand, her cue to reel it in. “You’re going down a dangerous path and we don’t want you to get hurt.”

“This isn’t one of those ninety-day programs either,” Jackie chimed in. “It’s only three weeks, and the first five days are just for detoxing. We’re not saying you have to be sober for good, this isn’t AA, it’s a program that’s going to give you the support and help you need to still enjoy things in moderation instead of relying on alcohol as a coping mechanism.”

Lemon nodded and listened as the rest of the group said their pieces to try to convince her to go. And she took it in, but she was also looking around and at the door. After a while, it became clear that she was waiting for - hoping for - another person.

“Priyanka wanted to come,” Jackie told her. “But we weren’t sure how you would react and decided it would be better if she waited at least until after you detox to contact you. You have to know, though, she really does care about you.”

She sunk further into her chair, not angry, but embarrassed. It shouldn’t have had to come to this, she knew that, knew better. And she hated that everything they said was right, that she did need help. “Fine,” she mumbled, “I’ll go.”

There was a collective sigh of relief as the tension dissipated throughout the room. “Rosé and Juice will go back with you to your apartment so you can pack, we’re going to get you checked in tonight,” Widow explained. “The facility is in Westchester, you won’t be more than an hour away and visitation is every Saturday.”

Rosé looked at her younger cousin and could tell she was doing her best to cover her fear and anxiety. She wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tightly. “You’re going to be okay, baby,” she promised, “they’re gonna take good care of you, and you’re gonna be better than ever once you’re done.”

Lemon nodded quietly, wiping her eyes. “I just wanna get this over with,” she mumbled, still unwilling to allow herself to be vulnerable in front of everyone, though the group anticipated that from her and let it be. All any of them could do now was trust the process.

[artificialqueens]

Taste of a Poison Paradise, Chapter 9 (Multi) - Joley

Chapter Summary: In the wake of Lemon’s outburst at the club, those closest to her process the fallout and realize something needs to be done before she spirals to the point of no return.

ao3 link

“Okay, I think that’s the last box,” Juice remarked as she dropped herself down onto the couch. “So, why’d your cousin kick you out again?”

Lemon scoffed and rolled her eyes as she piled up the empty boxes. “She didn’t kick me out, we both decided it was time for me to move.” She decided her college friend-turned-roommate didn’t need to know about the argument she had with Rosé. And she certainly didn’t need to know that she’d rejected her ultimatum of, “if you want to stay here, you can’t keep getting drunk every day.” It had been a week since the incident at the club and she was going to recover from it on her own terms.

“Alright, cool,” she shrugged as she took out her phone and began aimlessly scrolling. “You wanna do something tonight?”

The blonde perched herself on the armrest of the couch, swinging her legs. “We could go to a club and get shitfaced,” she suggested.

Juice shook her head without looking up from her phone. “You can. I mean, I’ll totally go with you and turn shit up, but I don’t drink.”

“More for me.”

Her friend looked her over with a concerned expression, eyes finally pried away from the screen. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked gently. “I mean, I know you’ve been through a lot, have you considered talking to someone about it?”

Lemon shook her head. “I’m fine, I don’t have the emotional capacity for therapy.” She got back up and looked around. “Shit, I guess you don’t have any liquor in here then. I’ll be back,” and after putting her shoes on and grabbing her purse, she was out the door, leaving a concerned new roommate in her wake.

——

Rosé sighed as she passed the joint back to Mik. “This doesn’t make me a bad person, right? I mean the last thing I want to do is make Lemon’s issues about me. But god, that really is what made me realize that I have to do this.”

Mik shook her head as she took a hit. “It’s not your fault, you saw a trainwreck and realized you needed to keep your ass on the tracks.” She finished off the joint and put it out. “Listen, the last thing you wanna do is be that girl who pines over the person she’s sleeping with until it’s too late.”

“You’re right, I know. I’m gonna talk to her,” she exhaled deeply as she pushed herself up. “If Lemon comes around, please don’t have sex with her.”

“Oh fuck off,” she huffed, “that delayed her mental breakdown by at least a week.”

Rosé rolled her eyes as she left. She wasn’t mad at Mik for that, if anything maybe it did help Lemon temporarily by giving her a distraction. But she had so much more on her mind, things that have been brewing since the club incident.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she knocked on Denali’s door, evening out her breathing while she waited for her.

“Hey Rosie,” Denali smiled warmly as she opened the door, leading her inside and shutting it behind them. “What’s up? You usually text me when you’re on your way over.” They sat down on the couch as she spoke, a tinge of concern in her voice.

She swallowed thickly, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. “I know I’ve been distant lately with everything that’s been happening with Lemon. But through all the chaos, I realized something, that keeping your feelings bottled up is dangerous.” Another deep breath, this time she forced herself to look into Denali’s eyes, eyes that she found warmth and comfort in every time she gazed into them. “What I’m trying to say is that I have feelings for you. I don’t just wanna be fuck buddies, it’s not enough. I need all of you.”

Denali blinked, taking her time to process Rosé’s confession. At first it was pure surprise, but once she let it sink in, it clicked that she felt the same way, that she had been falling for her all along without realizing it. “You have all of me,” she told her, cupping her face and pressing a deep kiss to her lips.

In that moment, a weight lifted from Rosé’s chest. If only for the duration of a kiss, she could pretend nothing in the world existed outside of Denali’s apartment. She could stop thinking, stop worrying. It was only them, everything else faded to black. “Are we alone?” she asked against her lips.

“Mhm,” she nodded, a slight smirk tugging at her lips, able to fill in the blanks from there. Her hands traveled down Rosé’s body, tugging off her shirt in one swift motion, her own following suit, though they took their time undressing each other, letting their fingers and lips gently caress each other’s skin.

By the time they were both completely undressed, they had gotten each other thoroughly worked up. Rosé had Denali sit up on the couch, then got on her knees in front of her, pushing her thighs apart. She moved in between them, dragging her tongue along her pussy before circling, then sucking on her clit as she eased a finger into her.

Denali’s head lolled back to rest against the back of the couch, a pleased moan escaping. “Mm, Rosie…” she exhaled, her hips pushing up when Rosé slid in a second finger. “Baby, just like that, feels so good.”

She basked in the praise, continuing her movements, occasionally switching her tongue and her fingers, but never leaving her unattended. She was focused and fervent, bringing Denali to an orgasm as quickly as she could, as if she were setting it as a challenge to herself. Once she’d won her game, she pulled back with a smile, gazing up at her. “God, you’re beautiful.”

“And you’re sappy,” she teased affectionately, leaning down to kiss her. “Come on,” she got up and pulled Rosé to her feet, “we can cuddle until I gotta get ready for my shift.”

——

Nicky watched Jan with a concerned expression. She wished she knew what to do, how to talk to her and help her. Ever since the incident at the club, she had been quiet, withdrawn, two words she would never think to associate with the bubbly woman she loved so dearly. It killed her to see her girlfriend hurting, enough for her to put her aversion to emotional conversations aside as she sat beside her on the couch, gently taking her hand. “Please tell me what’s wrong. You haven’t been the same since what happened with Lemon and I’m worried about you.”

Jan chewed on her lip, her gaze downcast. Logically, she knew she couldn’t avoid this conversation forever, but it didn’t make it any easier. “Lemon is like a sister to me and I’m worried about her. I know what alcoholism looks like… and I know what it can do to someone, it’s not pretty.”

She furrowed her brows, shifting closer to the younger woman. “What do you mean?”

“Well, um…” she swallowed thickly, “my dad’s five years sober now, but it hit a nasty low before it got better. I-I don’t know what that low would be for Lemon, I’m afraid she’s hit it, but I’m even more afraid she hasn’t.”

Nicky nodded as she listened. She had suspected Lemon might have developed a bit of a drinking habit, but not the severity, and certainly not the effect it would have on Jan. “I am so sorry about your father, and about Lemon. Is there anything we can do?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “My dad went to rehab while I was away at college, but I imagine my mom laid down some ultimatums, but I don’t know if Lemon thinks she has anything left to lose.”

“There has to be some way, and I’m going to help you find it,” she promised.

——

“Thank you all for meeting me here,” Juice said as she looked around the two pushed-together tables in the diner. “For those of you who don’t know, my name is Julia - Juice - and Lemon moved in with me about four days ago.”

“What happened?” Rosé immediately asked. “Is she okay?”

The blonde hesitated and looked down at the table. “Technically yes, she’s nursing a hangover at home right now but otherwise fine, unless she’s started day drinking. But there’s a bigger issue, and I’m sure you guys have started to suspect as much. What I’m trying to say is she’s developing an alcohol problem, and if we don’t do something about it now, it could get much worse.”

Everyone else had similar expressions - sadness, concern, anxiety. But none of them were surprised. “What do we do, then?” Rosé asked, breaking a tense moment of silence.

“Listen, I’m not claiming to be an expert. I’m twenty-two, sober for eight months now, so I can relate to how she’s feeling. What she’s going to need is everyone to rally around her, because it won’t be easy to convince her to get help.”

“So can we stage an intervention?” Jaida asked. “Do you have someone we can talk to?”

Juice nodded. “I can talk to my sponsor and have her put us in touch with someone who can get her into a detox, put the whole thing together. It goes so far beyond just telling her to stop drinking, especially in a club environment.”

“Speaking of the club environment,” Gigi chimed in, “we have to address the elephant in the room. What are we gonna do about the Priyanka situation? She told Crystal she’s taking a day job until things cool off, but if Lemon gets help… maybe that’ll expedite the process.”

Jackie sighed, but agreed. “I can open auditions to take on another dancer temporarily, I don’t know how long she’s gonna need, but assuming she chooses to get help, I want her to know she has a place to come back to.” She was quiet for a moment, then added, “I’m going to reach out to Priyanka too, I know she hasn’t been answering most of our calls or texts, but I think I might be able to get through to her.”

“My god, we’ve been so caught up with Lemon, we’ve barely kept up with Pri. Are we bad friends?” Jan asked, feeling a mix of guilt and sadness.

Juice shook her head. “No, of course not. Everyone here is doing their best. You guys reach out to Priyanka and figure out a way to get Lemon to the intervention when the time comes, I’ll do what I can on my part.” From there, they all just had to hope for the best.

——

Jackie took a deep breath, making sure she was calm and collected before knocking on the door. When a woman with black hair and tattoos opened the door, she greeted her politely. “Hi, you must be Scarlett. Um, can you tell Priyanka that Jackie’s here to see her?”

Scarlett nodded, disappearing back into her apartment. There was a solid few minutes of waiting, but Priyanka eventually came to the door. “Hey,” she greeted meekly and led Jackie inside.

Jackie sat at the edge of the bed in the guest room Priyanka had been staying in. “How have you been? You know we’re all worried about you.”

Priyanka’s gaze never left the floor. She picked pieces of lint off of her shorts as she sat down as well, swinging her legs aimlessly. How could she even begin to tackle that question when everything she had ever known had changed overnight? How can anyone process that sort of thing? “Scarlett convinced me to try therapy. I’ve had a couple sessions so far… It helped, I think, but it’s just scratching the surface, you know?”

She listened attentively, nodding along. “I’m proud of you for that. How did your family react when you and Mark broke up?”

“It’s funny, as angry as he was, he didn’t out me. He said it’s clear I have my own problems to work through. My mom was furious that the wedding was called off, so I threw in the ‘I like girls’ news because, well, it couldn’t get any worse,” she sighed. “I don’t think it’s fully hit her yet. She asked me if it was an excuse to get out of the wedding. I haven’t heard back since I told her it was the truth, and I haven’t heard from my dad at all.” She laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I couldn’t even say that I’m gay. It’s too much, I can’t just be gay,” she sat back up and grabbed a tissue, quickly dabbing the corners of her eyes. “How do you get past it, Jackie? How do you stop being afraid of yourself?”

Jackie pressed her lips together as she tried to articulate an answer. “There’s no easy solution, but I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now. I don’t think I was ever ready to be gay, one day I just came to terms with the fact that I was miserable trying to avoid my own truth and that the only way I was ever going to be happy was by loving even the scariest parts of myself.”

Priyanka went quiet again, crumpling the tissue in her hand and staring at it as if the answers were there. “So you don’t think I’ll be able to be fully happy until I embrace being gay?”

“That’s for you to decide. But think of it this way; when you think about your future, best case scenario, what is it in your life that’s making you happy?”

The answer for that wasn’t in her hand, it was in her heart. It made its way into her throat, choking her from the inside and making her pulse race. After everything, it nearly made her angry that it felt inevitable. “Lemon.”

——

“Juice just texted me that they’re on the way,” Rosé read off her phone, her free hand squeezing Denali’s tight, her leg bouncing anxiously.

The woman they’d brought in to help Lemon, Widow, nodded calmly. “Remember, at the end of the day we are here to help her. We’re not punishing or lecturing her, but we have to be firm.”

After another review of the plan, they heard the door open and looked up to see the two girls walk in, Lemon’s expression immediately becoming confused as she looked around. “Are you guys fucking intervention-ing me?” she asked as she took the empty seat to the right of Rosé.

“Lemon, your friends and family are here because they care about you and are worried about your health,” Widow explained. “Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘this bitch wants to send me to some random rehab until I come back sober for good’, but this isn’t like that. We get that you’re twenty-one, fresh out of college, no history of addiction.”

“So why am I here?” Lemon interjected.

Rosé arched her brow. “Well, for starters, you haven’t been sober a full twenty-four hours in nearly three weeks, you’ve been acting completely unhinged every time you get trashed. You’re actively trying to alienate yourself from everyone who cares about you, you-” She stopped short when Denali squeezed her hand, her cue to reel it in. “You’re going down a dangerous path and we don’t want you to get hurt.”

“This isn’t one of those ninety-day programs either,” Jackie chimed in. “It’s only three weeks, and the first five days are just for detoxing. We’re not saying you have to be sober for good, this isn’t AA, it’s a program that’s going to give you the support and help you need to still enjoy things in moderation instead of relying on alcohol as a coping mechanism.”

Lemon nodded and listened as the rest of the group said their pieces to try to convince her to go. And she took it in, but she was also looking around and at the door. After a while, it became clear that she was waiting for - hoping for - another person.

“Priyanka wanted to come,” Jackie told her. “But we weren’t sure how you would react and decided it would be better if she waited at least until after you detox to contact you. You have to know, though, she really does care about you.”

She sunk further into her chair, not angry, but embarrassed. It shouldn’t have had to come to this, she knew that, knew better. And she hated that everything they said was right, that she did need help. “Fine,” she mumbled, “I’ll go.”

There was a collective sigh of relief as the tension dissipated throughout the room. “Rosé and Juice will go back with you to your apartment so you can pack, we’re going to get you checked in tonight,” Widow explained. “The facility is in Westchester, you won’t be more than an hour away and visitation is every Saturday.”

Rosé looked at her younger cousin and could tell she was doing her best to cover her fear and anxiety. She wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tightly. “You’re going to be okay, baby,” she promised, “they’re gonna take good care of you, and you’re gonna be better than ever once you’re done.”

Lemon nodded quietly, wiping her eyes. “I just wanna get this over with,” she mumbled, still unwilling to allow herself to be vulnerable in front of everyone, though the group anticipated that from her and let it be. All any of them could do now was trust the process.

[dr-imagines-modfuyuhiko]

Reader helps Nagito in his plan to expose the traitor

Came up with this one on my own, just something for you guys to see my style of writing for if you want to request :)

Category: Angst Imagine

Specifics: GN!reader, obviously takes place in chapter 5, reader is Ultimate Actor

Warnings: Gore, swearing

I legit finished this but forgot to save and had to rewrite it all over again-

Nagito had told his lie of planning on blowing the island up. You, of course, saw through his bullshit, there was no way he had more than one bomb from the Ocagon. And he had just used it. So when you had stopped him walking away from the restaurant and confronted him, he let himself take his chances.

The boy had decided to confide in you after a minimal amount of convincing. There was no use in lying to you, especially when his time to execute his plan was limited. He told you what he knew. Absolutely all of it.

He told you how you were all Remnants of Despair, the 78th class’ killing game, Hajime’s “identity crisis”, about Junko Enoshima, everything. He even shared the fact that you had your left eye replaced with Junko’s while some other classmates, including himself, had other body parts.

While his claims were unbelievable at first, you could tell he wasn’t lying. He took you to his cottage and showed you the book he had received in the Octagon and he got some sort of poison. It was insane, yet it explained so much: Mikan’s behavior, Hajime being talentless, the swirls in Nagito’s and Mikan’s eyes when they got despaired, and so much more.

However, with this explanation, you had also gotten a hope/despair rant of how you all deserved to die for being Remnants. And for the first time, you actually agreed with his ideas. This part seemed to shock him slightly before he chuckled and explained what had to happen.

Whilst everyone else was on a wild goose chase for the bombs, the two of you got to work. You were told of the traps he already set up the night prior. He had you tie a spear above him, tie his legs and arm, and finally, made sure no one could hear him through the duct tape. You weren’t completely aware of why he needed that last point, but you guessed you would find out soon.

When leaving the warehouse to “meet up” with the others, his last words before you left had sent chills down your spine;

“Just make sure no one can hear me screaming, Y/n..”

——————

You had finally met up with your classmates just after they left the plushie factory where Nagito set his video message. You discreetly led them to the warehouse, using your talent as a shield of sorts. The domino fire trap had been set off, then they found the grenades in the break room, all according to plan. You made sure to stay back and not throw any of the grenades in case you screwed it up and took the poisoned one.

Once the fire died down, you had entered the next phase of this plan, the part you had to complete alone. You carefully led the group to Nagito’s body, not having to act as the shock of his self-mutilation took over you. Quickly shaking the nerves off best you could, you focused on the rest of the plan. Before you knew it, everyone was in the trial grounds being led by your lies.

That is, until a certain protagonist decides to call you out.

“Y/n, you don’t usually speak up so much during trials,” the boy gulped a bit and suspiciously looked to you. “Especially since you weren’t there until after we found the video.”

“I just want to help as much as possible,” you bit the inside of your lip nervously, “and like I said, I was in my cottage the whole time to avoid being blown up.”

“Then how did you know to lead us outside of the warehouse?”

Shit, shit, shit...

“I-I..” You had to think fast. So you did the only thing you could think of. Besides, all they had to do was vote incorrectly, right?

Lowering your gaze, you let your voice take on a dark tone, forcing a visible smile to tug at your lips.

“Because I killled Nagito.”

The room went dead silent for a moment. It was almost amusing. But you had to finish this plan out.

“I think we can start the votes now Monokuma, I killed Nagito-”

“No that’s wrong!”

Hajime’s voice rang out like an annoying alarm. You looked towards him and raised a brow for an explanation.

“Y/n, I don’t think you killed Nagito. I think you’re covering for something.” Hajime was getting closer to the truth, but thankfully your classmates were short tempered at this.

“What the fuck do you mean?! They already confessed!”

“Buddy, they already said they did it!”

“Hajime, they have just confessed their crime!”

“I don’t get the fuss, just start the voting!”

Their voices tangled together, most ready to start the vote. Unfortunately for you, Hajime apparently had backup.

“Y/n, if you did kill Nagito,” Chiaki’s voice had silenced the others, “then please give an explanation of what exactly you did.” You felt your chest tighten but remained calm on the outside.

Taking a breath in, you relaxed and focused on using your talent to complete your mission.

“When Nagito told us he’d blow up the whole island, I could tell he was lying, so I went to confront him. I knew there was no way he’d get a bomb large enough to take out the whole island. At least, not without any of us knowing beforehand. Plus he already used a bomb, and there was no way he had a second.”

You stated with a truth as you always did before delving into your lies, carefully weaving the two together. You were ready for this rebuttal battle.

“He refused to tell me anything, so I dragged him to the warehouse and tied him up. There, I tortured him to tell me the truth. When that didn’t work, I threatened a painful death.”

The thoughts of having to commit the actions you were describing caused you to pause for just a moment before continuing your faulty explanation.

“He began to mock me, saying I wouldn’t do such a thing. I decided to prove him wrong. I stole the key to his cottage off him and forced him to hold the spear above him. To keep him from screaming for help, I covered his mouth in tape.”

You felt yourself grip your trial stand just a bit tighter.

“I took the poison from his room and placed it in a granade for later. From there, I had set up the rest of the traps like Hajime said. All I had to do then was lead you all along and throw the grenade with the poison into the room-”

“I’ll cut through those words!”

Ignoring the odd word choice Hajime had been using in every trial, you turned to him, annoyed and nervous.

“Y/n, you’re the only one who didn’t throw a grenade,” the ahoged boy pointed out.

“Hey wait a sec- Hajime’s right!” Kazuichi joined in, “You were standing behind us the whole time!”

“So why the fuck are you lying to us?!” Fuyuhiko swore.

“They’re acting a bit like Nagito in the first trial..” Sonia was quiet but you still heard her.

“Do you know who the culprit is or not?!” Akane shouted from across from you.

Now you knew you were in deep shit. If you couldn’t keep the culprit’s identity safe, you would’ve failed. You would’ve failed to keep the world safe from the remaining Remnants.

After a few moments, you had your next course of action planned out. You lifted your head once more and smiled sickingly sweet. You were going to follow what Sonia had said.

You were going to play Nagito.

“Heheh..” Keeping the same dark but nonchalant tone as he always did, you continued, “Yes and no, Akane..”

“What do you mean, Y/n?” The plain boy seemed confused as ever.

“Well you’re the smart one Hajime, so I’ll give you one hint that should pull this together for you..”

The group had gone silent once again, awaiting your words.

“He used our talents to find a certain someone.”

Your head tilted to the side in false glee. Hajime had gone into his own mind for a minute, processing your claim. Once he figured what you meant by that statement, he turned to the group in shock.

“You’re telling us, that Nagito set this up?” He almost looked scared to say such a thing.

“Indeed I am,” You gave a crazed look, “I’m sure you know who the culprit is now, Hajime, don’t you?” The boy gulped once more.

“It’s the traitor.” Hajime looked down, “He was trying to kill the traitor.” At that, you erupted into Nagito’s signature laugh.

“Not quite, Dating-Sim-Protag.” You let out one more chuckle at your teasing. “It wasn’t the traitor he wanted to kill. It was everyone but the traitor!”

You continued your cackle. Having to laugh in his way made you feel guilty for your actions and words. You were hurting everyone. But what had to be done had to be done.

“They’re messing with us like Nagito did!” Kazuichi seemed more freaked out than everyone, as per usual. “Just tell us who the traitor is!”

“Not so fast, Kazuichi,” Chiaki once again calmed down the commotion, “I think Y/n isn’t lying. Nagito wanted the traitor to kill him and be the blackened, right?”

“Y/n,” Hajime kept his gaze towards the floor, “did you really know where the poison was?”

“In the grenades? Yes.” You felt this as your chance to come clean, convinced they couldn’t find the traitor. “Which one, however? I had no clue.”

“Then how would the traitor have known which one it was in?” Sonia was so close to getting it, but Hajime sealed their deal.

“They didn’t, Nagito used his luck.”

“Correct.” You decided to drop the Nagito facade, deeming it unnecessary now. Your face instead fell solemn.

“Why the hell did you help him, Y/n?!” Fuyuhiko’s voice called out.

“I’m sorry, I really am,” You let yourself speak the truth, “but it was what had to happen for the world to be safe. Safe from-”

“Ah, ah, ahhhh!!” Monokuma jumped in, “We wouldn’t want spoilers, now would we!”

You grit your teeth, feeling even more horrible that you couldn’t explain your actions. Although there would be no need to once the vote had started.

“Just..” Your voice fell weak, “..know all but one of us deserve painful deaths. And we’re about to get those as I assume the traitor wouldn’t reveal themselves.”

The room was completely silent. Even Monomi kept her usual whimpering to herself. Monokuma probably would’ve jumped up again if it weren’t for said traitor speaking up.

“I killed him.”

Chiaki’s voice made your head snap up. She must be lying right? No, there’s no way she’d help you and Nagito.. right?

“Chiaki what are you talking about?” Your voice trembled, knowing you won’t know if she’s helping you or everyone else until after the vote.

“I’m the traitor.” She smiled sadly, “Hajime, you want to do your usual run down of the case?”

Hajime’s face was in complete shock along with the rest of us. He quickly shook himself out and nodded. You could tell he didn’t want to vote on his (what you assumed to be) girlfriend. Nevertheless, he gave the story of it all.

“Here’s everything that happened: The person who actually arranged this incident was... the victim, Nagito Komeada. He kept a specific item inside his cottage that he needed for his plan. Monokuma's Special Poison, which he brought with him from the Octagon.

“Using the gloves and gas mask that he got from he military base... Nagito swapped the contents of a fire grenade he took from the Plushie Factory break room with that poison. When he did that, a specific item was left as evidence: the blue aluminum seal on the grenade.

“With that, Nagito finished making the poisoned fire grenade, took it with him to the factory... and put it back with the rest of the grenades in the break room.

“The next morning, Nagito appeared before us and declared that he hid a bomb somewhere... However, one of us wasn’t fooled. That person was Y/n L/n. Through some sort of convincing, Nagito had told them his plan and the two of them got to work.

“While we were looking for the bomb, that's when Nagito and Y/n headed over to the goods warehouse. In order to set up a fire, the two arranged the Monokuma panels in a line going from the door... to the curtain, and placed an oil lighter in front of it. From there, Nagito set his insane plan in motion.

“First, he hung the spear that he took from Nezumi Castle from the ceiling girder by its cord... then he had Y/n tie his arms and legs at the back of the warehouse with rope. However, they burnt off the rope on his right arm beforehand.

“In doing so, they made sure that only his right hand was free while his remaining arm and legs were tied up... As he gripped the tip of the rope hanging over the ceiling girder with his left hand... He laid down face-up, just beneath the dangling spear.

“But this was just the beginning of Nagito's plan, and then...he did something no one could've predicted. First, he covered his mouth with duct tape, and after making sure he was unable to scream... He made Y/n leave and stabbed himself with the knife multiple times in his left arm and in both of his thighs.

“Finally... He propped the knife on the plushie, and slammed his right hand onto the blade! He didn't just want us to think he was tied up, he also wanted us to think he's been tortured... Through all this, Nagito never let go of the spear. His plan still wasn't over...In fact, it was just about to begin.

“Meanwhile, we finally arrived at the plushie factory and found Nagito's message... After seeing his message, we instantly made our way to the warehouse, Y/n leading us there even though they had shown up after we left... But that was part of Nagito's plan. We opened the door to the warehouse, which inadvertently started the Monokuma panel domino effect...

“The panels fell, one after another, until they reached the lighter, tipped it over, and ignited the curtain. Shocked by the sudden fire, we rushed to the factory's break room to obtain some fire extinguishing grenades.

“We then aimed for the fire's origin point, which was the curtain, and unloaded the entire supply. It never occurred to us that one of those grenades was the poisoned grenade that Nagito had prepared... But because Y/n knew it was there, they made a crucial mistake in Nagito’s plan and their later lies... they didn’t throw a grenade.

“The poison sank to the floor, instantly vaporizing due to the intense heat, and spread everywhere... The poison gas quickly drifted to the curtain at the back of the warehouse, where Nagito was. Also, Monokuma's poison has a unique quality in which it becomes heavier than air when vaporized. That poison gas completely surrounded the area where Nagito lay face-up on the floor.

“There, Nagito inhaled the poison, and if it didn't instantly kill him, he certainly lost consciousness... Which caused him to let go of the rope in his left hand, and the falling spear plunged into his stomach.

“But even then, his plan wasn’t completely over as his accomplice, Y/n, had to lie in order to voting wrong. Unfortunately for Y/n, the traitor did something they couldn’t expect... the traitor revealed themself.

“This is all the information related to Nagito's plan. His true intention was to set one of us up as the killer... At the time, we didn’t know who the killer was... Because the killer wasn't aware they killed someone. Try as we might, if the traitor hadn’t revealed herself as Chiaki Nanami, the Ultimate Gamer, we could not reach that truth... That was Nagito's trap.”

You could feel yourself shake as the rest of the trial went on. You didn’t trust your voice to not get all shaky if you attempted to speak. Instead, you simply listened as arguments were made on Chiaki really being the traitor. As well as the insults occasionally thrown your way.

Soon, though, the guilt of failing Nagito and the world settled in as Monokuma declared that Chiaki was indeed the traitor, and possibly worse, correctly voted as the blackened.

———————

As soon as Chiaki’s execution had ended, you made your way out of the trail room and to your own cottage. You didn’t want to end up tied in the warehouse like they did with Nagito in the restaurant so many weeks ago. So when there was knocking at your door, you didn’t answer it.

The knocking continued, but you stayed in your curled up position on the bed. When the knocking finally ended, you sighed in relief, that is, until you heard Hajime’s voice.

“Y/n.. please come out and eat.. you haven’t had anything since this morning..”

That certainly wasn’t what you had expected to hear. You expected scolding, anger, anything other than concern. Hearing a sigh from outside the door, you decided to slip out for just a moment.

When you did open the door, you saw Hajime as he was about to turn and leave. His form seemed stressed, like he’d definitely been crying.

“You aren’t gonna tie me up, are you?” You tried to joke, but your voice was hoarse, your own crying to blame. Even so, Hajime let out a tired chuckle.

“No, I did have to stop Kazuichi and Akane from trying though..” He scratched the back of his neck. A small, breathy laugh of your own forcing it’s way out of you.

“Why aren’t you siding with them?” You looked downward towards your shoes. “I mean I did quite literally act as Nagito and try to get us all killed..” At that, you felt a hand on your shoulder, forcing your gaze back to Hajime.

“If your reason behind doing that was good enough for Monokuma to stop you from revealing it, I think it’s justified.” He gave a weak, but reassuring smile, “The others agreed with me once I pointed that out.”

“Let me guess,” you attempted to lighten the mood once more, “Sonia agreed with you so Kazuichi just magically changed his mind and Akane was forced to join?” The two of you shared a small laugh as he pulled his hand away and to his side. There was a short, awkward silence that followed before Hajime spoke again.

“Just.. please help us figure out what’s going on. With the information you now have, you may not be able to directly tell us, but you can help so much more.”

You felt yourself nod, slightly ashamed. “In that case, there’s something I need to show you and the others. I can go get it-”

“Let’s wait till you get something to eat, okay?”

Hajime, no, everyone was really willing to give you a second chance after you essentially killed two classmates? You couldn’t believe it. But it was the truth. A small smile made it’s way to your mouth and you nodded once more, this time more assured. This made Hajime smile in return.

“Now how about we go eat something before Akane gets to it all, Y/n?”

[wherearemyglassesbro]

The DNR au executions in order ✨ Dont read if it’ll make you uncomfortable :)

Murder #1: Alfred Jones is the first to kill. He’s overcome with the feeling of helplessness and can’t mentally handle being there. When Kumakuma gave everyone their first disguised motive, Alfred was pushed over the edge. His ‘motivation tape’ was a video of his parents’ farmhouse burning. It still isn’t clear if it was faked or real but that video hit Alfred like a ton of bricks. He kept up his cheery facade and decided to wait to make his move despite being desperate. He watched his classmates closely, just waiting to see weakness in them. He wouldnt go after a girl or someone bigger than him...He finally decided on Kiku. He was soft spoken and kept to himself so....He’d be easy to get to!! Around 3am, Alfred snuck out of his room and down the hall, knocking on Kiku’s door “Hey buddy uh....Look man I’m having trouble sleeping and I wanted to walk around a bit. Would you come with me? I don’t think it’s safe to walk around alone and I trust you”. Kiku is flattered and he agrees to walk around with Al. Little does he know, Alfred’s got a kitchen knife tucked into his jacket. They walk and walk, Alfreds getting fidgety. Kiku’s confused by his behavior but he understands that this place can make you feel jittery. They arrive at the second floor gate “Ok Alfred-san I think we should head back from here. I’m pretty tired, arent you-?” Alfred throws him against the gate, knocking the wind out of him which gives Al enough time to retrieve his knife and bury it into Kiku’s chest “I-I’m so sorry....I’m so fucking sorry...I don’t want this...I didn’t want to have to do this...But I need to get out of here....” he arranged Kiku’s body to make it look like he stabbed himself and runs away. Halfway back to his room he realizes that his shoes are bloody!! Shit!! So he takes them off to run the rest of the way back in his socks. He washes off his shoes and wears that same pair the next morning when everyone meets up for breakfast. Everyone realized that Kiku was gone way faste than Al expected and they split up into two groups to go find him......”Ding dong dong ding”....”A body has been discovered!!” And it begins.

Execution #1: Cannonball. Alfred Jones has been found guilty! Time for his punishment! His punishment for killing The Ultimate Gamer, Kiku Honda, is one final stunt! One exclusive show for his classmates! He’s the first to go so everybody buckle up! Alfred is stuffed into a Monokuma cannon! Wowie! The cannon is aimed at a huge target allllll the way across the room. The target is about a football field away. The canon starts to rumble...it gets louder and louder...Everyones freaking out!! And then, the floor opens! And Alfred is shot into a murky pool full of piranhas! Canonball!! His classmates are forced to stand and watch until there’s nothing left of their friend.

Murder #2: Tension rises after Alfred’s trial and execution because that was everyone’s brutal wake up call. This is very real. This is a game theyre forced to play. Kumakuma provides another motive only hours after the trial, calling everyone to the gym to present a stack of money! 20 million dollars to be exact! This is supposed to bribe the greedy ones into killing. Luciana Vargas begins to get cocky. She and Natalya start fighting. And I mean fighting. They scream, throw shit, all that! The others have to intervene most of the time too. It’s getting out of hand. And Nat can’t take it anymore!! Luciana likes to do her laundry at night so Natalya sneaks up on her...very quiet...She’s not wearing shoes, not even breathing as she approaches. And it’s all to easy. She snatched up a scarf and threw it around Luciana’s neck, brutally strangling her and whispering in her ear as she took her final breaths “You bitch...you slimy, nasty, fucking whore...I hate you...I hate you I hate you! I feel no remorse...You snake...You evil, cocky bitch...” The last thing Luciana sees is Natalya’s smiling face. Once she’s dead, Nat stuffs Luciana’s corpse into the washing machine and leaves. It takes three days for her to be discovered....Ding dong dong sing....and when she is, she’s discovered by Michelle of all people. Michelle faints and hits her head super hard on the ground, which makes this an even bigger ordeal. Everyone suspects Nat from the start since the two were fighting so much and the evidence all leads to her anyway. Luciana managed to rip out a few of Nat’s hairs so those were found at the scene....

Execution #2: Eye Of The Beholder. Natalya Braginskya has been found guilty! Time for her punishment! Her punishment for killing The Ultimate Designer, Luciana Vargas, is to face off against 10,000 bees! Natalya is placed in a giant glass bubble which is teetering on a ledge shaped like a hand. Bees are quickly pumped into the sphere! As Natalya struggles while shes being brutally stung, she makes the glass ball shift too much! And in doing so, she and the bees fall to their deaths, the glass ball crashing into the floor 4 stories below! She was beautiful! And her death made sure she would no longer be. Or...no longer...’bee’

Murder #3: it’s almost three weeks after Nat’s trial and none of the motives are working. Kumakuma has presented six motives and everyone has decided to stick to their friedship. That just won’t do. Kumakuma then decides to dig deep into everyone’s pasts, finding their darkest secrets. He slips a folder under everyone’s door...The secrets cause Francis to snap. He can’t take this anymore. Kumakuma is going to release his darkest secrets to the media in 48 hours if someone doesn’t kill. Oh god oh god oh no...Francis’s folder if full of secrets. He slept with a director, gave another actor food poisoning to take his role, drove over a coworker’s leg with a gold cart so they couldn’t perform, all sorts of awful things that he did to secure his career. Things that his poor mother didn’t know. That his sister didn’t know. No one was supposed to know any of this but...him. He couldn’t allow this to get out! This would wreck his family!!! He calmed himself down enough to draft a plan. He wrote out his entire murder plan from start to finish. It was foolproof. (Spoiler alert, it wasn’t). He caught Arthur in the hall as everyone was heading off to their rooms after dinner and guided him away where no one would see, sneaking him into the bath house. It was all coming together...This was going to work...Francis is the ultimate actor of course! He’s been working on Arthur from day one, flirting with him and being nice. He had a feeling that Arthur’s loyalty would come in handy!! Now it was time to put him to use. He and Art stripped and got in the hot tub, Fran made conversation and then offered to wash Art’s hair. Of course Art complied....Then Francis did what he had to do. He shoved Art’s head underwater and held him there. Art put up a good fight, he screamed and fought hard but in the end, Fran was just stronger and heavier so when he finally managed to sit on his head, it was all over for him. Francis didn’t bother arranging the body, he dried himself off and left the scene. He was very stealthy about his exit and he took the long way back to his room just to be sure. His downfall? He smelled like the soap from the bathhouse. That soap is only in the bathhouse. That was the one detail that got him. And when that detail was discovered, his cool facade started breaking, he’d never been so nervous before and even as the ultimate actor, he couldn’t mask his guilt forever.

Execution #3: The Stage Of Kings. Francis Bonnefoy has been found guilty! Time for his punishment! His punishment for killing The Ultimate Mathlete, Arthur Kirkland, is to put on one final performance! Francis is strapped into a chair in the middle of an ornate stage. He’s dressed as a king with the whole garb and crown. Above him are three chandeliers, one falls and hits the stage on either side of him, scaring the crap outta him and the final one lowers down....lowers down...until it’s right over his chair. And then BOOM!!! In one horrific movement, the chandelier falls on top of him and explodes!! BA BAM!! To signify the end of the performance, black and red rose petals fall from the ceiling and into the viewing area where the other students are and applause plays from the speakers.

Murder #4: Another motive has been presented. This motive is success. ‘If you kill someone and graduate, you’ll be guaranteed even more success than before. Your name will be everywhere, you’ll get many interviews and all kinds of publicity! Media coverage beyond your wildest dreams!!’. This sparked something in Berwald. Berwald has always been the rock of the group. He’s emotionally detached, intelligent and strong. He did very little in the actual trials but if he thought someone was wrong he’d say so. Berwald thought that he’d never be a suspect if he ever did commit something...All he had to do was disguise the crime scene. Plant hair. Contaminate evidence. Move things around. Anything he could to frame someone else! He had a plan. He would kill Matthias, the stupid dancer who he couldn’t stand to be around. Then he’d frame Carmen. He found a pair of the shoes she wore and took them from the supply room, keeping them for himself. It took awhile to get all of the supplies he needed. Tarps, tools from the art room, a bag of blood from the nurses office. Everything was coming together!!! This was going to work!! He could almost taste his freedom! He got too cocky. Berwald followed Matthias, who was blissfully unaware of what was happening, as he wandered around the school. He followed Matthias up to the 3rd floor and cornered him in the red room!!! But Matthias was too fast!! As Berwald went to hit him over the head, Matthias grabbed a Kumakuma bottle and smashed it over his head!! Berwald now had blood running down his face into his eyes! Matthias took this as an opportunity to snatch up another bottle, breaking that one on his head too! BAM!! After a THIRD hit to the head, Berwald fell to the ground and died. Matthias was horrified with what he had done...now he was standing in a puddle of blood, covered in Berwald’s blood...Even though this was technically self defense, he still killed him!! Oh no!!! He rifled though Berwald’s bag and managed to piece together the origional plan! He made bloody footprints with the girls shoes and dumped his own shoes (and the rest of Berwald’s bag’s contents) in hallway garbage can. Jittery and in shock, he made his way back to his room to shower. His biggest mistake was leaving a partial bloody handprint on his own doorknob.

Execution #4: ‘Dance Dance Execution!’. Matthias Kohler has been found guilty! It’s time for his punishment! His punishment for killing Berwald Ox, The Ultimate CEO, is to dance for his life! A ‘dance dance revolution’ machine is set up for everyone to see. Matthias is set up on the machine and must dance at the highest level in order to stay alive. He gets three chances, each misstep makes the machine go faster, demanding that Matthias dances faster. When he messes up the first time, buzzer rings out and strobe lights turn on. Now the his vision is obscured as he dances. The second time he messes up, he’ll hear a buzzer again and the sound of a roaring crowd is pumped into the room, making it harder for him to hear the song the machine is playing. The third time he messes up, the room goes silent, the machine stops and the lights come on all the way to reveal a giant, heavy, metal box dangling from the ceiling. The box then falls, crushing him and the ‘dance dance’ machine too.

“Murder” #5: The students have all been desperate to figure out the mystery of the school. They’ve gone to the bathhouse and student bathrooms countless times to formulate plans to sneak around. They’ve distracted Kumakuma, stolen things from different rooms, found a headmasters key tucked away in the library. They’ve been able to uncover the mystery of why there are 16 trial stands. There are 16 students. What the fuuuck???? They get ahold of Gilbert’s student file and within a day, a body is found. Ding dong dong ding!....Huh??? Everyone rushes to where they hear screams! Up on the 4th floor, slumped against the music room door is Gilbert Beilschmidt!!! The student they just discovered in the files!! His face is mutilated and a chunk of skin on his shoulder is missing. His file indicates that he has a tattoo there to commemorate his first gold medal. Everyone is now rightfully freaking out, everyone suspects eachother!! They go into the trial practically blind.

Execution....#5...?: The trial for Gilbert Beilschmidt’s murder is the most chaotic one yet. No evidence is making sense...But...One little detail. Michelle had gone to the bathroom alone that morning while everyone else was at breakfast at 7:15. And Gilbert’s death was around 7:30 so....She had plenty of time to go kil him and come back before breakfast was over at 9! After that fact came to light, everyone agreed that Michelle was the killer and...she was sentanced! Huh??? Michelle didn’t kill anyone!!! She just barely saved herself by posing the question: ‘Couldnt Gilbert have even killed by the mastermind? Not one of us?’. Everyone then quickly turned on Kumakuma, asking who controlled him. After an hour in the trial room, arguing and yelling, The real Gilbert showed himself in his true, mastermind glory! He admits to being part of the Ultimate Despair. The dead ‘Gilbert’ was just another corpse. A decoy. But the students figured him out. The trial continued long into the night as the students worked through the mysteries of the school, the tragedy, whats outside, all of it. Gilbert laughed and went along with it, encouraging despair to take over the students. “If you convict Michelle, I’ll allow you all to continue living here in peace! But if you convince me~ Well, you have to go. The second I die, the air purifiers will go off! And so will the fridges, air conditioner, water pumps, all of it! You’ll be forced to leave! Go out into that hopeless world you love so much and die there, motherfuckers~”

Execution #5: The Finale. The students all convince Gilbert, they stick together to the very end. Gilbert laughs and laughs, hitting the button to announce his own punishment. He whoops and hollers as he strides into the punishment room, happily straps himself onto a wheel with a target on it. The punishment begins! The wheel starts spinning. Slow at first then faster and faster and faster! Kumakuma robots throw knives at Mach speed, each knife hitting Gil in different places. Throughout his punishment, he laughs and hollers through the whole thing. The students think it’s worse than screams of pain....When hes dead they all get to leave....and see what’s outside...

((I hope this isn’t too rambly lmao alsoooo please don’t think I’m like....fucked up or something lmao aijssjkshdvs))

[creepyalienghost]

orphanage farm 4

Sammy sighed deeply before beginning his confession. “That night when me and Joey were playing, all those years ago...I didn’t fall down the stairs...” he said then glanced over at Joey. “It wasn’t your fault I got hurt...it was mom’s.”

The three boys looked confused for a moment before Joey spoke. “What?!...what do you mean?”

Sammy looked down and continued. “As I was playing, I was also snooping around because I knew things. Things we shouldn’t. I was trying to get into moms office but she caught me...and threw me down the stairs as a warning. After that we..made a deal” his voice quivers.

“What was the deal?” Norman asked as he sat down next to him to support him.

Sammy turned to him a bit. “The deal was I spy on everyone and made sure no one was learning the truth. If they did I’d have to tell mom. Basically be loyal to mom for a way to live...”

“You mean they won’t ship you off to get eaten?” Henry asked. “That’s possibly?”

Sammy shakes his head no at Henry. “Once I’m shipped in a few weeks it would be for something else. What that something is, I don’t know yet.” He replied then looked at each of there faces. “I really want you guys to make...I could try but you guys need to obey the rules hear.

“No way!” Joey shouted, making all three of the others turned to him in surprise. “No way am I going to listen to you or mom!” Joey starts heading for the door. “We’re going to break free soon. With you or what out you!” He opened the door and only gotten one step before Sammy made him stop.

“What about the trackers.” Sammy blurted out, making all three turn there attention back to him.

“The what?” Norman ask softly. “What trackers, Sammy?”

Sammy race his hand up to his left ear, making sure all three could see. “They place trackers chips in our ears.” He simply spoke. “Mom has a Device that she can use to find us all, easy.” He looked from Norman to Henry to Joey. “Think about it. If mom has this...so do the demons.” He said, lowering his arm back down.

“So we need to get rid of them some how.” Henry noted, feeling the bump in his own ear from his tracker.

“So then-“ Joey closed the door and came up to Sammy. “tell us how to get rid of them, rat.” He eyed so hard.

Sammy nodded slowly. “I will...but ...what are you going to do for me?” He ask.

“What?!” Joey replied in a pissed off voice. Then he looked at Norman and Henry. “You hearing this?”

“Calm down, Joey...” Henry walked up beside him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “It’s information for information.” He turned to Sammy next. “We don’t know much. But we know what’s beyond the fence.”

Sammy glanced over to Henry then nodded. “Alright. What’s beyond it?”

Henry sat next to him on the other side. “A wall” he simply said. Sammy looked at him for more. “A concrete wall that is one meter tall. No guards of those ...demons you called them?” He waisted for Sammy’s nod then continued. “Joey said there was nothing but woods on the other side. So we can escape once we figure out and about this trackers.” He said to Sammy. “Now tell us all that you know.”

Sammy blinks and wondered if he should tell them everything. Or if they could handle everything he knows. “Hey -“ Norman cupped his cheeks, bringing his attention back to Norman. “Please don’t hold back anything. We want to know everything.”

Sammy looked deep in his eyes for a moment then sigh, nodded. “You can cut the tracker out and smash it. But that needs to be done at the vary last second!” He turned to Joey and Henry. “And where not the only farm. There’s others but I don’t know much about them.” He let them have a moment to Grasp this information before continuing. “The test determines who gets eaten. 6-11 the smartest people are saved from being shipped out. Once your 12 your shipped out anyways. But could be given the opportunity to live.” Sammy felt tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry for being the spy, I had to. I didn’t want to get eaten.” He started to cry, feeling Norman’s arms wrap around him for comfort.

Norman held the small boy in his arms, smothering him with love and looked straight at Joey and Henry. He didn’t know what else to say to them. Or if they should escape or get Sammy to ask mom for an opportunity for them.

Henry sighed to himself. “Sammy. Can you try to ask mom for us?... to give up an opportunity to live?”

Sammy glances his big blue eyes over Norman shoulder and nodded. “Y-yes.”

——-

Later that night everyone was asleep in there beds. Dreaming about being adopted by loving parents and meeting new siblings. Well most of the children. Sammy was starting at the ceiling, listening to all the others breathing in there sleep. He waited for a while then felt it was a good time to go talk to mom.

Sammy sat up in his bed and swung his legs over, clawing out of it. He herd a Russell from another bed behind and turned. Norman was sitting up now to. He smiled over at him and gave him a thumbs up for good luck. Sammy give him a thumbs up back before leaving the room and heading to moms room.

He knocked gently on the door then quickly herd footsteps approach from the other side. The door opened a crack and mom’s smiling face appeared in the light. “Hello there my little spy.” She greeted in his motherly voice.

Sammy crossed his arms over his chest. “We need to talk.”

Mom looked at him for a moment then she opened the door wider, letting him in. “What’s the situation Sammy?” She asked. That motherly voice gone, replaced with a wicked tone.

Sammy sat down on the chair in the corner of her office. “Norman, Joey and Henry...they know.” He spoke.

Moms face lost the smile of hers and became a frown. “You told them, didn’t you?”

Sammy shrugs his shoulders. “Had to. They found out I was there spy.” Sammy was both relief and scared. Relief that he didn’t have to keep such a huge secret from his friends anymore and he wasn’t the only person to know the truth now. And scared because this could affect there deal.

“Does this mean the deal is off, mom?” Sammy ask, hating the sadness that comes out.

Mom looked down at her son and thinks of it should of not. “We’ll see” she answered after a long moment. “Now if that’s all you may go.”

Sammy stands up immediately. “That’s not all!” Mom stopped what she was going and gave Sammy the attention. “They all want opportunities as well. To live.”

Mom stared shock for a moment then sighed. “Sammy. My son. I can’t just hand out these opportunities to everyone. That’s not how it works.” She got up from her desk, going over to him and kneeling to his height.

“I understand how you feel. Believe me I had friends to when I was your age. I couldn’t save them. Just myself.” She place warm Gentle hand on his cheeks and gave him some advice. “Focus on your self Sammy. Remain my loyal spy and in a couple weeks you’ll be out of here.”

When Sammy went back to the room he was surrounding by the three of them with hopeful wishing eyes. He hated braking there spirts like this but he couldn’t give them false hope. He looked down at the floor and sadly shook his hand no. Joey frowns and heads back to his bed, obviously upset. Henry went to go cheer him up. Norman brought him to his bed were they just cuddled in each other’s arms for the rest of the night.

——

Over the next few days Norman, Joey and Henry has been going over ever detail they know of and coming up with a plan. They needed to climb over the wall and get as far as they can. They needed to know what was good to eat and what was poisonous. They needed to know what these demons would do and they needed to know how to take as many as they can.

It was a horrible shock when my mom

Made the announcement after prayer this morning. “My dear children. I am happy to inform you all that Henry is getting adopted tonight!” Everyone was cheered for Henry’s great news. Everyone but Henry, Joey Norman and Sammy.

Norman and Joey was shocked about the news. Joey even felt sick to his stomach knowing his boyfriend was going to die soon. Sammy tried to make himself small so they wouldn’t notice him right now and Henry, poor Henry was petrified. He didn’t want to get eaten by any demon. He didn’t even know what buddy looked like or what he had to go through before he died.

However Henry kept a smile on his face the whole day. He played games with the younger children when it was free time and hung out with Joey and Norman on the other times. Sammy was no we’re to be seen that day.

When the time came after dinner, Henry got his nice suit on and pack his books and clothes in his suitcase. He headed downstairs where everyone was crowded by the door staring up at Henry. He hugged each one of them goodbye and kissed Joey for the last time before whispering in his ear. “Escape this place.”

Joey gave a small nod then Henry grabbed his suitcase and went to mom, staring straight into her eyes. “Ok. I’m ready.” Mom nodded and lead Henry outside into the night.

All the younger children ran for the front windows and watched as mom’s lantern light gets farther and farther away from the house. Joey and Norman stood in the corner seeing no point in wishing him a good life that wasn’t going to happen. Joey eventually sighed and head alone upstairs.

[tuanhood]

designated driver

pairing: im jaebeom x reader 

genre: fluff, angst(?)

word count: 2.9k

summary: you and jaebeom are always the designated drivers.

a/n: this is kinda bad and unedited so as always don’t roast me. alsO if you’re just coming across this and my blog here’s a self plug for my mark social media au ------> blurred

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“Pretty boring party huh?” You heard someone say to the left of you. 

If you had to be honest, you didn’t want to engage. You were completely fine leaning up against the back wall of the room, sipping on what had to be your fourth La Croix since arriving with your friends. That’s what you tended to do when you weren’t sure what to do. Just mindlessly drink a La Croix or four. 

You had volunteered to be the designated driver once again. Somehow it seemed like you always ended up taking the role whenever you went out with your friends and you weren’t exactly sure how. Was it the sad look your best friend gave you all when everyone declared it was her turn? Or was it the awkward silence that followed the age-old question, “So who’s DD?” 

This time had been no different, except the stakes had been a little higher. 

Mark Tuan’s end of the semester party. 

Of course, Mark was notorious for all of his parties – his Halloween parties, his Winter Wonderland Blowouts, Toga Parties and Tailgates – but it was his end of the semester party that was always the biggest and always the messiest. If you had to gather statistics from all of the end of semester parties Mark had had since you’ve been at University, you would have guessed that at least 30% of partygoers experienced some level of alcohol poisoning. And you weren’t exactly sure how Mark got all of the funds to cover all of his gatherings – it wasn’t like he was in a frat or charged cover – he somehow just had the means to supply three fourths of the campus with an ample amount of alcohol. 

When the discussion over who would be driving occurred for Mark’s party, you had told yourself that this time you would not be the babysitter for the night, and you would be letting loose after the tough semester you had endured. 

“So, who’s driving tonight?” One of your friends had asked slowly, drawing out her words in a way that was meant to tell all of you that it wasn’t going to be her.

“I mean… I honestly don’t want to,” another friend had piped up. 

Your best friend sighed, knowing that left her since you had driven the last two times, but she pressed for an alternative, “what if we take Uber this time?” 

“Do you know how expensive the surge will be? And who even knows if we’ll be able to get one since there’s less drivers here nowadays.” 

You had tapped your foot nervously. It couldn’t be you again, it couldn’t. 

“And if that happens, I’m not staying over! That house is disgusting after everyone leaves and I’m not staying with that jerk!” 

You blinked slowly and replied, “Mark is your boyfriend.” 

“I know but he’s really pissing me off right now and I refuse to stay there while he has that other heathen staying with him.” 

“Girl, Bambam didn’t meant to push you in the pool last time. He didn’t know about your fear of water,” your best friend responded blankly. 

More bickering had continued, and that’s when you realized that once again it was up to you to be the responsible one out of your friends. To give up the binge drinking you had planned for and the large carb filled meals you had prepped to have before. 

When you offered it had felt like they had been waiting for you to say those magic words the whole time, but they retreated and strategically hid the smiles on their faces. They shook their heads and said things such as, “oh no you can’t! We’ll figure it out don’t worry.” Until finally they caved and let you do it. 

As if you had been begging for the job in the first place. 

That’s how you found yourself in the position you were in now, watching everyone have fun around you and get completely and utterly wasted. Everyone drank around you as if it was their last night on Earth and they would never see alcohol again. 

“Okay, so no response?” The voice asked again. 

This time you decided to engage and tell whoever attempted to bother you and your sober self-pity party to leave you alone. You were instantly met with warm brown eyes and a bright smile that belonged to none other than Im Jaebeom.

You had seen him at many parties, often in a similar position as you – being the one responsible friend who took on the role of getting everyone home safely. Sometimes at these events you would shoot a smile at each other, sometimes it would just be a quick eye contact to acknowledge one another, but usually it would be you and Jaebeom talking and laughing about all of the drunk idiots around you. You had to admit that he made being the designated driver a little more bearable as you watched all your friends have fun around you. And you would be lying to yourself if you said the butterflies in your stomach whenever you saw him meant nothing. 

Tonight, you felt those butterflies working overtime as you took what he was wearing. A light beige turtleneck that fit him tightly in the chest and shoulders showing off his broad frame but hanging loosely at his arms. It made you want to cozy up to him and have him make you scream his name all it once. How a stupid turtleneck did all that for Im Jaebeom you had no clue. The short sleeved khaki work short over his lower layer only emphasized his tall, broad frame and drew attention to the distressed, medium wash jeans that sat on his hip. 

He looked hot. Something you obviously already knew, but it still always left you surprised when you felt a large pang of attraction for him just based on his style alone. 

His entire look was complete with his current signature look – a backwards baseball cap. At Mark’s neon party a semester or two ago you remembered making a comment about how you thought backwards hats only looked good on a certain kind of guy. And that the certain kind of guy who was able to pull it off without looking like a douchebag was in your opinion, attractive. By certain kind of guy, you had meant Jaebeom, but you had figured he hadn’t caught on to that, but his fashion choices for the last few parties made you wonder if he was wearing them because of you. 

You immediately shrugged the thought out of your head. As if Im Jaebeom would do anything for me. He doesn’t do anything for anyone. 

With the time spent on his appearance you hardly noticed the red cup in his hand, which made you frown almost immediately. “Not the DD tonight?” You asked, a little bit sad that he wouldn’t be your sober buddy for the night. 

He smiled at you sheepishly and tipped the cup towards you in an effort for you to be able to view the inside, “It’s just water.” 

You pretended to be shocked  and gazed at him with wide eyes, “Im Jaebeom are you telling me that you’re ditching your one true love, strawberry milk for water?” 

He shook his head and rolled his eyes at you pretending to be annoyed, but you could tell by the glimmer in his eyes and the corner of his mouth moving upwards, he was attempting to tease you. As was most of the encounters you had with him. 

In a way you hoped that the teasing you often did to one another would lead to something more. In fact, it almost felt like your own version of a cat and mouse game, but most of your contact with Jaebeom was simply left to the confounds of a party. Never had you approached one another on campus, or ever had the slightest attempt to slide into one another’s DMs. Maybe all you two were good for was being designated driver colleagues. 

“So, who made you drive this time? Youngjae? Ooh no I bet it was Yugyeom.” At your question, you noticed him look down shyly. 

“Ah… Well you know…” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck, “A little bit of everyone.” 

You nodded your head in agreement, “same here. I was going to get wasted after the semester I had, but once again I guilted myself into after no one really volunteered.” Jaebeom cleared his throat, “well you know any time you feel like you’re being coerced into it I can always take you and your friends home? I could even do it tonight if you uh… wanted to.” 

You felt your heart warm at his offer. 

“That would be really nice of you Jae, but what about your friends?” You laughed and you could almost have sworn that he froze at your use of his nickname. 

He nodded slightly and looked away from you, out towards the party and the drunk people surrounding you both, “right, right of course.” 

“But you definitely make this whole always getting stuck with designated driver kinda fun,” you mused. He turned back to you immediately, batting his eyelashes, “only kinda? You know I make it kinda definitely fun.” 

His response caused you to snort and you couldn’t help but disagree with him. He didn’t make it just kinda fun or kinda definitely fun, but instead he made the whole thing fun and worth it. The moments over the last year or so that he made you laugh, warmed you with the gentle touch of his hand on your arm or made you freeze with just one look, had you thinking that if you had to stay sober for the rest of your life while your friends had fun and partied around you, it would be okay as long as you were with Jaebeom. When you were with him it was as though you were intoxicated in your own kind of way. It was as if you were drunk on him. 

But he clearly doesn’t feel the same way. Otherwise he would have done something already, right? 

You felt his hand comfortingly go to your shoulder as it always did when he was about to begin one of his big stories about his cats, a new track he was producing, something Jinyoung had learned in his Philosophy lecture or anything in between. 

Looking up to him with big eyes, ready to listen to anything Im Jaebeom has to tell you, you smiled softly to show him he has all your attention, “so what is it this time?” 

Jaebeom was just about to open his mouth when you heard a crash and a familiar voice suddenly yell, “watch out!” It’s at that moment you turn to see a football coming directly towards your face. You froze, too unsure and slow to react to the object. 

At that moment you felt warm arms wrap around your waist as you’re spun to the other side of Jaebeom, the football avoiding you completely and simply hitting the wall behind where you were originally stood. 

“Are you okay?” Jaebeom asked you, looking down at you with eyes full of concern. 

“Y-Yeah t-thank you,” you barely managed to stutter out. And you don’t know it’s from the the shock and fast pace of what just happened or Jaebeom’s arms still firmly wrapped around your waist, as if they were meant to always be there.

Jaebeom nodded at you and as he turned to face the culprit, you feel his arms move away from your waist and rest at his side. You felt yourself frown. 

“Bambam are you an idiot or something? Why the hell are you playing football inside?” Jaebeom asked the younger boy with annoyance written all over his face. 

The younger boy immediately rolled his eyes at him as if his indoor take on an outdoor sport was the most obvious thing in the world. “Jinyoung told me it wasn’t possible, so obviously I had to try.” 

“If Jinyoung tells you it’s not possible to jump off a bridge, would you do it?” As if on cue, Bambam rolled his eyes again, “no Jaebeom, of course I wouldn’t.” He turned to you and moved his eyes in Jaebeom’s direction as if to say can you believe this guy? 

“Sorry about your drink by the way,” Bambam suddenly said, leaning down to the floor by your feet. It’s then when you realize that Jaebeom was no longer holding his red cup, as he must have dropped it when he rallied to get out of the way of Bambam’s football game. Bambam picked up the cup and sniffed the inside of the cup once and handing it over to you, “here.” 

You shook your head at him, “It’s Jae’s.” 

Bambam looked at you with confusion and turned to Jaebeom, “are you already that drunk that you have to switch to water?” he cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes to take Jaebeom in, “you don’t look that drunk.” Once again you found yourself shaking your head at Bambam for his incorrect statement, “no, no, no. He’s the designated driver.” 

He looked back and forth between you and Jaebeom for a moment with wide eyes until finally deciding to fixate them on you, “what!? Are you telling me that Jaebeom is sober? If I would have known I would be halfway to the hospital for excessive alcohol consumption,” he groaned, “why does everything bad always happen to me?” 

This time it’s you who looked at him in confusion, unsure of what he was saying and that’s when you took notice of Jaebeom rubbing his hand against the back of his neck once again – his nervous habit. 

“If you’re just going to abuse your right to party, then I’m never volunteering to be designated driver again,” Bambam muttered. 

It’s at that moment when everything clicks, Jaebeom was pretending to have to be sober. But why? 

You turned to Jaebeom, “Bam’s your guys’ DD? Why aren’t you drinking?” You smiled at him and grabbed him a bit, shaking him excitedly, “you know taking part in organized binge drinking and alcohol poisoning?” 

“I- well you know I just knew that you would probably be the one who has to drive all your friends home again… A-And you know I thought it would be lame if you were sober on your own so I just thought that I would keep you company.” 

Bambam doesn’t hide his annoyance at Jaebeom, “I would have also been sober with her… and you know what? I am!” Jaebeom turned to look at Bambam with a scowl on his face, “Yeah but I’m the one who likes her so you should just shut your-” Jaebeom cuts himself off and widens his eyes, at a loss for words, not believing the confession he had just let slip from his mouth. 

“You like me?” You asked him, also not quite believing Jaebeom’s sudden reveal.  

He turned to look at you softly, lowering his head gently to the side, “Y-yeah and I planned on asking you to hangout away from all of our drunk friends and confessing to you somewhere a bit better. Like that tree you always sit under by the main quad or the rose garden near my apartment, literally anywhere else besides here.” He paused and groaned, putting his head in his heads woefully, “and now I’ve given probably the worst confession ever… Yelling at this stupid idiot,” he muttered bitterly, his eyes fixed on Bambam angrily. 

Just knowing he wanted to take you somewhere special to confess his feelings for you was more than enough to give you the same warm buzz you know you would have felt if he had performed a grand romantic gesture, but somehow him doing it here – at a party surrounded by drunk people and scolding Bambam was kind of perfect in its own way. 

In yours and Jaebeom’s way. 

You reached out to grab Jaebeom’s hand before he can stop himself from doing any kind of damage to Bambam. At your touch, and your hand in his you felt him relax. 

Delicately, you set your eyes on his and he returns your fragile look almost as though you both are having a silent conversation with one another. You had already known what you felt for Jaebeom was more than just casual friends who kept each other sane during a party, but for the first time since meeting him you realized that you wanted Jaebeom to have every piece of you and for the first time ever you weren’t scared of that. 

You rubbed your thumb over his hand and felt yourself look at him shyly, “why don’t we go talk about this… upstairs?” 

It takes a moment for him to figure out what you mean, and he almost chokes when he realizes, “t-that would be good. I would like that.” 

Without another word you tugged on his hand, leading him through the crowd of partygoers and towards the stairs, leaving Bambam to gawk at both of you in shock. 

“What’s going on over there?” Your best friend asked Bambam, slurring her words from her last few hours of too many cups of jungle juice. 

Bambam blinked slowly for a moment, getting out of his state of surprise. He placed his hand on her shoulder and pat it comfortingly, “your designated driver and my new designated driver are going upstairs to have sex, so I hope you’re not planning on going home any time soon.” 

She stared at him blankly, lost in confusion. 

He pats her one more time and began his walk towards the kitchen, “now if you excuse me, I’m going to go get hammered. I have some catching up to do.”

[inkribbon796]

Where the Crossroads Meet Ch 2

Summary: As reality breaks down, heroes and villain meet for the first time and Dark sees another demon for the first time in decades.

<= PREVIOUS

Chapter 2: Collision

Reality itself was bending and twisting, sliding apart and crashing together like it was a series of gears being forced into specific places. The earth collapsing and sliding together as people and objects were thrown about.

A river appeared in Egoton where it had never been before, and a haunted lake filled with dark, cursed magic hanging over it like a cancerous, poisoned miasma appeared in Gainesville.

Dark was working at his desk, things had calmed down a bit since he’d yelled at Wil over the phone. Once he was in prison he’d set a timer and then go and pick Wil up. But Dark was in a meeting about the network when he felt something similar to the Manor ripping it’s way through the room.

The Entity shuddered violently, feeling like the body he was in was absolutely freezing.

“Dark?” Edgar asked, the young enforcer looking at him in concern.

The shuddering didn’t pass, Dark felt wrong, that something was terribly wrong and it was about to get worse.

Standing up, Dark was already pulling up as much of his aura as he could. “Get everyone inside their warehouse! Now! Tell them to hunker down!”

Edgar flinched momentarily before him and the other captains and lieutenants Dark had been talking to, began to run out the door as quickly as they could.

Dark was already trying to open up a portal into the Void but it wasn’t letting him access it so he pushed himself through the crowd. “Move!”

Quickly getting outside, Dark spread his aura as far as he could and grabbed all thirteen of the warehouses, pushing anyone who was outside inside. The ground was spilling and shaking, warping as buildings crashed into other buildings that appeared out of thin air and then disappeared as the ground was spilling apart.

“Dark!” Silver flew over, looking around. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, you’re the hero, do something about it!” Dark spat at him, he didn’t want to keep yelling at Silver. Any concentration he gave to the hero was concentration away from forcing his aura over the warehouses, and the ground was splitting under one of them so he had to hold it up over the gaping maw in the ground.

“Any chance you could do that to the rest of the city?” Silver said, clearly noticing the space Dark was covering.

“No!” Dark grunted. “Make yourself actually useful, and save my town already.”

Silver let out an audible huff, flying off, “Not your town, shitlord!”

Dark saw him doing his best to safely catch people in buildings and evacuate them so he didn’t spare Silver another thought.

Something flashed in front of him, but Dark tried to ignore it, it was a human face that was half gaunt on one side and literally scaly. The face seemed equally surprised to see him but it was gone and Dark was focusing on keeping his network physically afloat.

The Entity was frantically looking around, he was having trouble drawing all his power from the Void. His connection was getting stronger but with how much chaos was spreading through the city, it was better to drop the warehouses back on solid ground the instant he could.

Quickly observing the ground around him, Dark found out that the ground wasn’t just splitting, it was dividing as if something new was being added in. Dark followed the space his warehouses had been over, trying to keep all over them over solid ground.

After another couple minutes of his city heaving and collided with what looked like an ever changing city. But Dark was able to set the warehouses down, trying to get them in the same places as they were before, pulling his aura back as quickly as he could.

One of his newer captains ran out, Dark thought his name was “Derek”. “Hey, boss, what’s going on?”

“Get back to work,” Dark yelled at him. “And if you find Wil, stab him immediately.”

“Uh,” Derek looked nervous and more than a bit terrified. “Sure, boss.”

Dark took the time to relax, letting his aura seep back towards the Void where it belonged, the town was various degrees of ruined and destroyed around him but he’d deal with that after a cup of coffee and locking Wil in the Void until he figured out what was going on.

While he was relaxing on top of his main warehouse Dark felt and heard a violent and electrical-sounding tear in the Void. The Entity looked up to see a glitchy green figure fling itself out of the Void and instant look at Dark with a huge smile.

Dark stood up, trying to get as much information about what he was pretty sure that what he was looking at was a demon.

“Well, well, well,” the glitch demon was clearly sizing Dark up, even his voice glitching up. “Nice muscle show, suits. Still got any power left?”

Dark used his aura to brush off any dust on his suit, not taking his eyes off the rival demon. “I have more than enough. But you’re in my city and I’d like you to leave.”

Looking about as intimidated as if Dark had pulled a puppy out of his back pocket and thrown it at the rival demon, the glitch demon looked around for a bit before pointing to a corner of the street, “Yeh fookin’ me sideways? I pissed on that wall. That’s my territory.”

Dark scowled at him, already deciding he hated the creature and was going to have him painfully exorcised.

“So, what’s yer name, mine’s Anti,” Anti smiled sharkishly.

“If I cared for your name I would have asked,” Dark dismissed angrily. “The only thing I’m concerned about is the time you are wasting me by breathing.”

Anti summoned a serrated knife and tapped it to his chin, “You remind me of this old fookin’ geezer I met, I can practically smell the magical rot on yah. I think I’ll call yeh Raccoon Eyes.”

“It’s Dark, you sufferable brat,” Dark snarled. “And I will decorate my territory with your blood and mount your head on a pike.”

Anti scoffed, almost laughing, which was only making Dark angrier, his form splitting and fracturing. “Right, like I’m real scared ‘a the shambling corpse who thinks his cheap guyliner is a good substitute fer the shadows ‘a eternal darkness.”

Something in Dark’s self-control just snapped and he lunged, Anti summoning a ring of knives around him as Dark gathered as much of the Void’s magic around him.

Wilford was walking down an unfamiliar street, when the world had started breaking and rearranging itself Wilford had held onto the box until he could safely store it in his part of the Void. Now all he had to do was find Dark.

Problem was: he had no idea where he was or where Dark was.

“Huh,” Wilford furrowed his mustache a little bit. “My mind must be failing me more than I thought. Dark? Dark!” 

Then Wil shrugged and pulled out his favorite revolver and just started emptying the cylinder into the air. People screamed, ducking away from him and trying to put as much distance between them and the madman with a revolver.

Wil waited for a minute for Dark to show up, and when that didn’t happen he flipped open the wheel, dropping the empty cylinder and started to reload it. “Huh, must be in a meeting.”

The madman pointed it at a crowd of people and began firing.

Jackie, who had suddenly found himself on a different street then where he’d been with J.J inside the crumbling bank, had heard gunshots and started immediately running towards the pandemonium. The instant he saw the gun firing and he immediately dashed in to move the bullets out of the way, the gun clicking uselessly.

“Yo, barbershop singlet!” Jackie called to the man as he stood in-between the shooter and the crowd. “Did ye lose yer way ta yer shop or did the other guys ‘a yer quartet leave yah hangin’?”

Wilford stared at the hero in red, tapping his bottom lip with his gun, “I’m sorry, have we met.”

“Nah,” Jackie told him, “but don’t suppose yah can stop shooting at people?”

“Well I’m only poking people to find my boyfriend, normally he shows up after the cops do,” Wil explained. “Name’s Wilford Warfstache, a pleasure to meet you.”

“Jackieboy Man,” Jackie introduced hesitantly. “So you find your boyfriend or the police, and you’ll stop shooting people?

“Oh post-haste,” Wilford promised, jumping up a little bit.

“So can we put the gun away?” Jackie asked.

“Oh this?” Wilford waved it around it a bit.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jackieboy Man tried not to seem rattled.

Wilford smiled, pocketing his gun, it disappearing into thin air to Jackie’s concern and confusion, “Okay, Darky lives on Hill Road.”

“Well we can start with the police station, it’s three blocks down the road,” Jackie offered.

The man shrugged, “Okay.”

Wilford held his arm out, “Lead the way.”

Jackie started walking with Wilford, trying to keep him distracted and non-violent. “So, buddy, where yah from?

“Egoton,” Wilford smiled. “Lived there almost my whole life.”

“Where’s that?” Jackie asked.

Wil stopped, his mustache furrowing, “I’m not sure. You know, I’ve never had problems getting back home until now. I always just find my way back to him and the House.”

“Well, we’ll get yah there soon buddy,” Jackie clapped him on the shoulder.

Wilford smiled, reminding Jack of an overgrown puppy. Then he pepped up, “Oh, I know where we are!”

Jackie, at that moment, became acutely aware that he wasn’t in Althone, he was somewhere else. “Where’s that?”

“We’re near the Oakren, Darky owns this place,” Wilford exclaimed, running up to it. “I’ll give him a call.”

Jackie started to follow him in, but froze when he heard a series of loud explosions off in the distance.

In another part of town Virgil was standing along the street, confused. Just a couple seconds ago he’d been cowering from the earthquake next to Janus and now he was in a place he’d never been before. He fought the urge to look like a five-year-old lost in a mall and waiting to get kidnapped by some stranger.

He didn’t have long to think about calling out before the ground was shot around him.

“Hey!” Virgil shouted angrily before he saw some guy in a grey hoodie holding what Virgil was fairly certain was a NERF gun. “What the?”

“We told yeh freaks not ta come back inta town!” He shouted, clearly not an American. “Or did yah have yer ears clogged with rotting flesh?”

Virgil recoiled in disgust, “Hold up, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

“Nah, not falling for that again,” he told him.

Whatever he said was lost on both of them when part of the building next to them exploded and something flew towards them.

Virgil yelped, flinching back and waiting to get hit.

“Anti! What the hell?”

Virgil pulled up his hood a bit to see his attacker arguing with a guy picking himself off the ground and floating in green and black glitchy static.

“Hey, Average?” The glitchy creature smiled at him. “Yer not using yer body right now, are yah?”

“Of course I am!” Average shouted, angry and clearly terrified.

The glitch demon made a disbelieving face, “Nah, I need it more. Don’t worry, I won’t give it back too badly damaged.”

“No!” Average shouted but Anti turned into static and just jumped into the guy, his eyes turned into staticky green and he turned towards the broken building as everything went grey and Virgil tried to put as much distance between him and the situation as possible

“Howdy, fooker!” Anti shouted at the Entity as he ported in, lifting up Chase’s gun. “Ready fer round two?”

Virgil was grabbed by Janus who was trying to keep Virgil behind him. “Dee, what’s going on?”

“Nothing good,” Deceit hummed. “But we might be able to come out ahead if we play this right.”

“Get out of that pathetic meat sack,” Dark shouted, throwing his aura up as a shield against the foam projectiles. “If you can’t be bothered to fight me for real, then go back to Hell.”

“You first,” Anti forced Chase to say. “Why don’t yah step out of yer own rotting flesh sack an’ we’ll call it even. That can’t be good on the joints.”

“Just,” Dark groaned. “I just want you to die so I can get back to work, is that so hard?”

“Yes!” Anti shouted. “Yah were on my turf.”

Janus clapped, drawing attention to him and Virgil. “So which of you fine fellows do I have to thank for breaking apart space and time?”

“What are you doing?” Virgil croaked, hiding behind Janus.

“Oh that’s right, show fear in front of the demons,” Janus scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“If I wanted advice from the peanut gallery, I would have asked,” Dark growled.

“Yeah, fook off,” Anti shouted.

“What concerns me far more is that our towns have merged, and you two are fighting, spending your energy battling each other when we could be making the most of the situation. Besides, we’re looking for our compatriot and he’s attracted to chaos not rampant destruction.”

“Fookin’ brainy, ain’t yah,” Anti rolled his eyes, before looking back at Dark, “come on, 3-D Tinitus, let’s do this.”

“Quiet,” Dark scoffed, manifesting an echo to observe Janus closer as he kept his eyes on Anti. “I have too much to do today to get involved in a pointless scuffle with you.”

“Buzzkill,” Anti scoffed. “Maybe I should have grabbed the magician instead, least he can set stuff on fire.”

Dark was already trying to summon a portal to force Anti through to buy himself at least a couple minutes of peace and quiet to think of how to get himself out of this mess without being stabbed in the back.

That thought was derailed when a ripple that cut through time itself tore through the little alley they were standing in.

“Shit!” Anti spat, looking around. “Where’s that fooker?”

Deceit and Virgil looked confused, Virgil clinging a bit tighter to the other side. Dark, however, realized that there was someone nearby messing around with the time stream and he only knew of Wil who could affect those around him. He was trying to find the madman’s aura but saw no trace of it.

“Anxiety!” A voice shouted, impossibly behind Deceit and Anxiety, despite no one standing there mere seconds ago.

The two Sides turned to see Logan in his costume staring at them.

“Hey! Where’d you come from?” Anxiety spat, Dark and Anti were looking at the new addition to their group.

“Da fook are you?” Anti asked.

Logan took out a stick and he hit the end of it and it erupted into fire.

Anxiety screamed, reflexively letting out a burst of his fear waves, engulfing the area around him.

Dark flinched, more out of surprise than fear, he did get a brief glance of a body in a red robe hitting the floor with a sickening wet thud and dark soulless eyes looking at him. His twin souls roiled a bit before Dark pulled them all out of its effects, assured that he would be braced the next time it happened.

Thankfully, no one noticed Dark’s little crisis because Janus was a bit too preoccupied calming Anxiety. The wave was so strong it spooked Chase enough to wake up and panic enough that the fear pushed Anti out of his mind.

“AHHHHHH!” Chase screamed, and fell to the ground. J.J was there to catch him and with Logan’s help the two ran off with Chase.

“You!” Dark yelled at Deceit. “Control him, or I will.”

“Little fooker cost me a good host,” Anti spat, a serrated knife in his hands, knowing that by this point Chase was too unconscious and frazzled to be any use to him.

“I didn’t expect them to come out of nowhere,” Deceit shouted, casting an illusion in front of his eyes to calm him down, Anxiety was looking around wildly. “Logic is dangerous but last I saw of him he couldn’t appear out of thin air!”

“Give me five minutes an’ he’ll be plunged inta the fifth layer ‘a Hell,” Anti promised.

“You can have the techno manic, so long as I get to have a talk with his friend,” Dark dismissed.

“Oh, Jay? Sure as long as yeh don’t fook him up too bad, been wanting to see how his body ticks,” Anti agreed.

“I make no promises,” Dark warned, as Janus frantically tried to think of a way to make this better and not get Logan killed outright. The brainiac was annoying and bullheaded, but he was still a Side.

NEXT =>

[fanfic-scribbles]

Lunch Buddy: Chapter Nineteen

Masterlist

<<Previous Chapter Next Chapter>>

Overall Story Facts: Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Story Summary: Steve Rogers makes a friend. A prickly, generally people-averse friend, but they’ll both take what they can get.

Quick Facts: Friendship (/Eventual Romance) – Steve Rogers & Reader (leading to Steve Rogers/Reader) – Female Reader

Story Warnings: Reader-insert that verges on OFC, written in 1st person past tense

Chapter 19: Twelve Strikes

Chapter Summary: Honestly, New Year’s Eve is usually mostly uneventful for most people. Usually. Mostly. For most people.

Chapter Word Count: 5380

A/N: This chapter was kind of fun and I hope you enjoy it. I really hope you enjoy it actually because while I know sort of how I want the next chapter to be I have no idea how it’s going to go, so an update might take a little longer. Also, just housekeeping news: I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I decided to make this story a series. Part one is this, the getting together. Part two is tentatively titled “Dinner Date” and it’s pretty much going to be the cute couple shit I’ve been wanting to write. I haven’t decided how yet I want to organize it, whether I’ll just be adding a new section to the LB masterlist or making a new post and linking it. I’ll let you know by next chapter as it will be the last one for this story before I start the next.

Anyways, please enjoy!

  ~

 This was a bad, bad, bad idea. Me, alcohol, Steve, Steve’s friends, Steve, Steve in a tux, me, alcohol–

“Are you hiding already?”

I almost leaped out of my skin, but Sam just laughed at me. Jerk. But I hugged him because it was good to see him. And, if I was being honest, it was literally good to see him– Sam was a beautiful man and looked no less in his dark blue suit. However when I hugged him I was fine and normal. Why couldn’t I just appreciate Steve as an objectively beautiful man the way I could appreciate any of his friends as objectively beautiful people?

Although Natasha was so stunning in her long glittery black dress that I had run to the bar so I’d have an excuse not to babble “you pretty lady” at her like the caveman I was. So maybe I was just a mess.

“I’m just– getting a drink,” I said and gestured, only to accidentally hit the glass and scramble to keep it from sliding right off the ridiculously smooth and utterly unblemished “wood” counter. That’s what the whole place felt like actually– bright and shiny with nary an imperfection to grab onto.

“You okay?” Sam asked and leaned against the bar. His body blocked me from a happily chattering couple just as they made it to the space next to us, and I tried to calm the fuck down. Steve invited me, I got in just as easily as anybody, it was fine; I was fine.

“I’m okay. Can’t remember the last time I went to an actual party but other than that.” I picked up my drink but it was already almost gone so I put it right back down. Even if I wasn’t trying to monitor my alcohol intake that would have been worrisome. I breathed. I was here and I (and everyone else) was going to have to deal with it.

“Yeah, it’s not really my scene either, but.” He shrugged and smiled. “It’s New Year’s Eve; why not live it up a little?”

Said the man who looked like he belonged here. “I guess,” I said and looked around. I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to see Steve or avoid him.

Sam motioned for a bartender and made a few smooth hand gestures that got me a refill and him a copy of my drink. He took a sip, paused, and then raised both eyebrows at me.

“Don’t you judge me,” I said and sank closer to my cup. “Steve promised good alcohol. And this isn’t even the top shelf.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s all top shelf. But I wasn’t going to say anything.” He pushed away from the bar. “Come on; you found the best thing about Tony’s parties and now I’m going to show you the second best thing about them.”

That did make me perk up. “The food?”

Sam grinned. “The food.”

~

Second best had yet to be claimed, as first place was a tie.

“Do you think they’ll miss it if I just steal the whole tray?” I asked, staring at the waiter walking around with the really good wraps. I didn’t know what the hell was in them but I didn’t care. If I ended up poisoned later I would have no regrets.

“Thor’s done that before,” Darcy said. “It was awesome.”

Jane’s expression told me why Darcy used past tense. Too bad, but I could tell why he would have towed the line. Darcy (“Avengers wrangler extraordinaire”) and Jane (astrophysicist and Thor’s partner) were kind, smart, beautiful, and fun. That guy kept really good company.

“I think Steve’s done it too,” Sam said. “At least once.”

“Hm.” The tray was getting low, so I looked around the room for another one to pick at. “Do you think if I say I’m eating Steve’s share they’ll just hand it over?”

“What am I sharing?”

I took a moment to, again, chill the fuck out, and then I turned to look at Steve. Somehow it was easier to see him all put-together in a suit now than it had been the night he had shown up all disheveled, but he still looked stupid handsome in straight black and combed hair.

“I’m going to eat all the food on your behalf,” I said and swatted at his stomach. Lightly, because I wasn’t a jerk (and otherwise I would have just hurt my hand). “I’m helping you watch your waistline.”

“I've seen how much Steve eats,” Natasha said, coming around him and somehow making Steve look boring with her dark red matte lips, sparkling chandelier-like earrings, and flawlessly fitting gown. She smiled at me and raised a single perfect eyebrow. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Would you like some?” I asked her. “I’ll share. Just not with Steve; he owes me, like, at least three more grocery bags of snacks.”

“So much for hospitality,” Steve said. He sounded like he was trying to be flat but the smile he couldn’t wrestle off his face fucked that up. But it was a good thing. “If I give you all my food here are we even?”

I thought about it. “The food is pretty good…”

He laughed and opened his arms, and I went in for the hug. When he squeezed me my heart did a happy little somersault and I briefly considered letting him break it. Any more of this and I would have small woodland creatures following me pretty soon. Talk about a dead giveaway. “Easy, easy,” I said and tried to straighten up. “I have delicate alcohol here.”

“Oh, right; I forgot about what’s really important,” Steve said, still smiling widely as we parted.

“I’ve got priorities,” I said and took a sip. “Alcohol, you.”

“I come before food?”

I had to think about it. “Alcohol slash food, you.”

“I come before–”

“Take a fucking compliment Steve,” I said and downed the rest of my drink. A few of his friends laughed and I gave myself a mental pat on the back.

“If only,” a new person said. A beautiful blonde woman who had somehow sidled up right between Steve and Natasha without me noticing. Without Steve noticing too, by the way he jolted. But he looked delighted to see her. “Sharon,” he said and hugged her carefully to keep her full flute of champagne from spilling over her ash grey silky smooth dress. For fuck’s sake; could Steve have one friend who didn’t look like a goddamn model?

When Steve turned to introduce us I realized, oh yeah, that was me. My glass was far too empty but I swallowed back the bitterness on my own. Sharon was very sweet and had no problem turning her attention away from Steve to properly greet me. Unlike the people starting to gather and gawk.

“That’s a lovely bracelet,” Sharon said. “May I see?”

“Sure,” I said, feeling my mood lift at the mention. She and Natasha admired it. As well they should have.

“It’s beautiful,” Natasha said. “Where did you get it?”

“Um…” I looked around at all the strangers, some of whom were trying to sneak in closer to Steve– who looked a little uncomfortable while some woman chatted him up. I decided to play it safe and said, “A friend gave it to me for Christmas.” Hopefully my smile didn’t look as big as it felt.

“A friend?” Sharon pressed.

“A very good friend,” I said.

She tilted her head and smiled like we were in on something together. I wished I knew what it was. “Are you sure they’re just a friend? That’s a pretty special m–”

“Hey, do you want me to go get you another drink?” Steve asked me.

I was sort of relieved Steve stomped on the conversation at that point because I was just going to be miserable if we tread that road too far. However I couldn’t believe what he was asking me; he must have been desperate to escape his conversation. “Do you have any idea what I’m drinking?”

“I can guess,” he said, which…he never drank, so how… “Fine; then come with me?”

I looked at Sharon who was seemingly unbothered by the interruption. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, it was nice to meet you,” I said and Steve, acting the perfect gentleman, gave me his arm to hang onto while we made our way through the crowd. Hanging onto Steve, good alcohol, his friends being nice and not looking at me twice; I actually felt…okay.

“Are you having a good time?” Steve asked, sounding hopeful.

“Did you see that? I had a perfectly normal conversation with another human being,” I said proudly.

“You’re doing very well.”

I jumped as Natasha came up and took his other arm. “Hello again Natasha,” Steve said, sounding annoyed. Apparently he didn’t like her sudden appearing act either.

“You're not the only one wanting the bar, Steve,” she told him. She then looked past him to smile at me. She did ‘reassuring’ shockingly well. Well, she was a spy; she could probably do anything she wanted. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m fine, thanks,” I said. “You look gorgeous, by the way.”

She batted her hand at me, but it was her coquettish smile that made me laugh. “Be careful with complements like that, or I’ll steal you from Steve so I can hear them more often.”

It might have been a joke, but a woman like Natasha was so beautiful maybe people just assumed she knew. “You should hear it more often,” I said sincerely.

Natasha’s smile smoothed out– in a good way, I thought. She gripped Steve’s arm hard enough to make him flinch. “I’m glad you got yourself someone with sense,” she said and slipped away just as we got to the counter.

“It’s a little sad you make me look sensible by comparison,” I said and ordered another drink for me, and something for Steve to try.

“It’s a low bar,” Steve admitted and put his arm around behind me. It was just because the space was crowded, but it felt so nice. When the drinks were delivered I grabbed mine with one hand and slid Steve’s over to him with the other. “Am I carrying your drinks now?” he asked.

I elbowed him and looked around for one of the less-populated areas of the room I had scoped out earlier. “I think you’ll like the taste of it,” I said and grabbed the edge of Steve’s jacket to lead him. “Come on; let’s go catch our breath.”

He didn’t complain then; he just followed along.

“Captain Rogers!”

Or tried to.

A woman (beautiful, of course) with wavy blond hair came right up to him– and I got my first red flag when Steve tensed up. I got my second red flag in flashing lights when she practically shoved in between us. Had I stayed where I was it would have been literal, but I managed to save my dress and drink from combining. And, when she failed to apologize (or even acknowledge my existence) I considered turning my glass up over her head. Instead I took a sip to quell the growing rage and glared daggers at her perfectly-made-up head.

“Hello,” Steve said and looked at me. I lifted my cup and mimed dumping it on her. It got a smile, at least.

“It’s so good to see you again; I missed you at the last party,” she said and gave me an aneurysm when she wrapped her arms around his arm. Steve tugged but man, she had him worse than a boa constrictor. It was almost admirable, if I didn’t want so badly to take some hairspray and a lighter to get her off.

I took another drink. ‘Down girl; he isn’t yours,’ I told myself. It didn’t do much.

“I wasn’t at the last party,” Steve said, looking at me and drawing her attention.

I got my polite face on just before she turned her head my way. She sized me up and I stared at her. Yeah, pretty, sure. But Sharon was prettier. And nicer. “Hello,” Handsy said, perfectly icy. “Do you need something?”

‘Yeah– for you to fuck off,’ I thought. “Oh, I’m just waiting for Steve,” I said and smiled. It felt bland and fake and I didn’t care if it looked it.

“Well, we’re going to be a while,” she said even though Steve’s face clearly said that no, no they weren't.

“That’s fine; I’ll wait!” I said, a little more chipper than I wanted but, fuck it, she was pissing me off. She glared at me, so at least the feeling was mutual.

“STEVEN!”

We both jumped and Steve took the chance to extract himself from Handsy’s grip. “Thor!” he said and the two of them gave (and therefore received) hugs that looked like they would crack lesser spines. Wow Thor was even bigger than I thought he would be. Objectively he wasn’t that much bigger than Steve, but it felt like he filled the room. It was a little intimidating. But Handsy smiled patiently, and she was the reason I stayed close by– I didn’t want to risk leaving Steve alone with her.

“I want you to meet someone, actually,” Steve said and that was all the warning I got before Steve reached around Handsy to grab me and pull me in front of him so he could introduce me to Thor, Thor to me.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Thor said and shook my hand with very measured strength. It was easy to forget that Steve was strong, but I had a feeling you couldn’t forget it with this guy. “I’ve heard many good things.”

That sounded a little rehearsed, so maybe he was nervous and awkward too? I ran with it. “Likewise,” I said, because it was polite, and also true. Steve really respected and liked Thor and I wanted to make a good impression. I just didn’t know what to say. “I, uh, met Jane and Darcy earlier.”

He brightened at the mere mention. “Are they not wonderful?”

“They’re great,” I said and (only partly joking) added, “You’re a lucky guy; you must have done something pretty good to deserve them.”

Thor froze.

I froze too and started a chorus of ‘shit shit shit shit shit’ in my head. However I didn’t get a chance to even plan my apology before he let out a loud laugh that made me jump. “Oh, I am sorry!” he said and put his other hand on my arm. “It is true, but I did not expect to hear it from you.”

Weird, but I had the good sense not to say so. I was still coming down from the almost fuck-up so I missed what Steve said, but when Thor enthusiastically responded with a flurry of words that were unrecognizable despite being in a mostly-English sentence, I stepped back to let them geek out. Some people were coming and I really did need a breather, so I waited for Steve to look at me. When he did I held up one index finger, he nodded, and then he put his arm around Thor to lead him in one direction while I went the other.

The gaggle followed them. Or maybe people simply went in that general direction, I couldn’t tell and didn’t really care. I got to a little offset spot where the walls met awkwardly and took a few minutes for myself. I spent most of that time staring at a dark-haired woman who went between Steve and Natasha and I wondered if I had met her yet. She looked familiar but maybe she wasn’t? This was frustrating.

Handsy showed up again just as I was thinking about going back to the bar for some water. “So,” she said, still smiling politely but without even trying to introduce herself. ‘Handsy’ it was then. “How did you meet Captain Rogers?”

Trying to reconcile Steve with the image conjured by “Captain Rogers” caused a cognitive dissonance so strong I nearly had to physically shake it out of my head. “Oh, um…we met at a coffee shop we both happened to be at. Became friends.”

She waited for a few seconds, but since it wasn’t really her business I didn’t go on. “How cute,” she said blithely and smoothed out her dress. Admittedly she did cut a lovely figure in it. “The captain and I met at one of Stark’s parties a while back. We really hit it off.”

“That’s nice.” Thankfully I caught sight of Pepper heading my way so I straightened up at the prospect of a distraction.

Handsy turned to face her too and while I couldn’t see the look on her face, the high-pitched (super fucking fake) excited squeal of Pepper’s name from her mouth and look of absolutely strained politeness on Pepper’s face made me want to merge with the wall to avoid what was almost certainly going to involve bloodshed. But they hugged and, though stiff, they miraculously came out of it with all eyes and limbs intact.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but if you don’t mind,” Pepper said and gestured at me.

“Oh, of course; it was lovely to see you,” Handsy said.

And then left.

I gawked and when Pepper said my name in a tone of “what’s wrong” I wanted to ask her what the hell that was– in a polite, reasonable way befitting an adult who got invited to a Very Fancy Party– but what came out of my mouth was, “I thought you two were going to fight.”

I glared at my drink in betrayal, but I was so unaffected that it wasn’t even funny so the glass was just a convenient scapegoat. Pepper laughed at least– and smiled to show teeth. “It wouldn’t have been much of a fight.”

I laughed. And then, because I was a (mostly) functioning adult: “Thank you for letting me tag along on Steve’s invite; I appreciate it.”

“‘Letting you’ nothing; I’m glad Steve finally got you to come to one of these,” Pepper said. “How are you doing?”

“I’m all right; taking a breather,” I said. The dark-haired lady was talking to Jane now. “I’m trying to remember names now before I wade back in.”

Pepper nodded. “That’s Maria Hill.”

“Oh thank god, I don’t think I’ve met her yet.” I then realized Pepper was hosting (mostly, I thought; Stark was being loud elsewhere so maybe it was a two-pronged approach) and I looked her over. She looked perfect, but still. “How are you? It must be tiring.”

“Oh, a little.” She waved a hand carelessly. “It gets easier.”

“That’s good,” I said. And had nothing else. I looked around but the bar was busy– Plan B then. “I should go find Steve so he doesn’t think I ditched him.”

“I think I saw him at that end of the bar,” Pepper said and gestured to one of the crowds, because of course. As she motioned though, she saw someone she knew and waved.

“Thanks Pepper. I’ll track him down,” I said as the other person brought his partner over to say hi. Well, that was one hiding place completely ruined. Hopefully the others were all right.

“If you have any problems, just come find me,” she said and went to greet her friend with actual joy and excitement. That was a nice offer that I absolutely wasn’t going to take her up on. I could handle a crowd of people and bitchy partygoers. Weddings were way worse than this scene. So I shored up and went to the place where Steve apparently was. Which he was– in the middle of a crowd of people who had gathered around to listen to Thor tell a story.

I didn’t even try to nudge my way in. I made a trip to the bathroom, snagged a new drink from a small open spot at the bar, and went over to the food table. Natasha and Phil Coulson were talking to their friend (Maria). They looked up when I got closer and I nodded, trying to be unobtrusive as I grabbed a little crostini-thing with some stuff on top of it, but they turned to face me and I stopped before I even got the thing to my mouth. “Uh…” I said, looking at all of them. I lowered the hors d’oeuvre. “Sorry; I didn’t mean to…intrude?”

“You didn’t,” Phil said and extended his hand. I had a drink in one hand and food in the other, and nowhere to put the food. So I shoved it in my mouth, switched the glass to my food-tainted fingers, and shook his hand while I chewed like I was trying to take a prize at an eating contest. Not easy with how crunchy it was but it was good, at least.

“It’s good to see you again,” he said like I hadn’t just done a disaster dance right in front of him. Nice man.

I swallowed. “And in a better situation,” I said, trying to pretend at dignity.

Natasha said my name and then introduced me and Maria Hill to each other. She added, to me, like she was telling me a funny secret, “Don’t worry; she doesn’t bite.” Natasha even winked. Wow; who knew a woman that gorgeous could also be such a fucking dork? I was a little in love.

“Oh Natasha, don’t lie to her like that,” Maria said and very obviously scoped me out. Honestly, I might not have minded the biting. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

‘Finally?’ What the hell was Steve saying about me? “Uh–”

“Ooo, is this a new spy induction ceremony?”

Tony Stark sauntered up and I tried not to laugh at him outright but the idea was so ridiculous I couldn’t help but snicker. Stark raised an eyebrow at me and I shrugged. “I’m clumsy, would rather walk under a ladder than walk past a gym, and avoid people if I can help it. I would be the worst spy ever.” I swirled my glass. “All that said, thanks for letting me tag along with Steve. I like your booze.”

“At least you have taste,” Stark said. “Are you the reason I saw Rogers walking around with a half-full glass himself?”

“Still half-full huh?” I asked and looked around, but there was no Steve in sight. With the one second loss of attention Tony Stark moved on to talking to the other three. Since I was hemmed in in a way that would attract attention should I leave (and I was right by the best snacks that just got replaced) I stayed and socialized. Or ‘socialized.’ Stark was a talker– not as fast as I had expected but fast enough that whenever he looked at me for a response I only had time to make a facial expression before he was on about something else. He was kind of funny, but also kind of an asshole– like, he was okay, but I still felt cautious and I could see how he and Steve might be at cross-purpose more often than not.

I felt pretty pleasant though. Nobody was glomming onto the Avengers just for being Avengers anymore (even Handsy was off laughing with a group of friends), people were talking around me without making me participate, the lights were bright in a sort of haloed way, I had good food and drink in hand, and the room was comfortably warm. I just needed one more thing and it would have been perfect. Or maybe I was better off without him.

…No. I still wanted Steve around, even if I was being the world’s biggest idiot about having a dumb crush. Even if this only ended in heartbreak and I had to watch him hook up with other people for the rest of my days, his company was worth that much.

I was only half-listening to Tony when he made some dumb joke and I had sussed out his personality enough to comfortably and casually tell him, “Go fuck yourself.”

His mouth dropped open and he gasped. “Cap!” he said and pointed at me like he was a lawyer in a courtroom drama and I was this week’s case. “Your plus one just told me to go fuck myself!”

Warm chuckles drifted on high from behind me and I felt even more comfortable when Steve came around to stand at my side, just slightly behind my arm. “Is that all? She tells me that almost every day.”

I was taking a drink so I flipped Steve off without looking.

“See?” Steve said. “Sometimes even nonverbally.”

“Well,” Tony said, pouting. “Now I don’t feel special.”

I gave him an awkward consolation pat on the shoulder.

Pepper arrived then so Tony turned his mania onto her. I turned my head to look up at Steve. His shoulders were loose and his expression leaned closer to a smile than not. “Hi,” I said, trying not to smile too big.

“Hey,” he said. “Having fun?”

“Mm hm,” I replied. His smile was soft and sweet and the light formed a glow around him.

Someone coughed next to us. Steve jolted and I turned my eyes as far away from him as I could. “I’m sorry,” Steve said to someone else and lightly tugged at the shoulder of my dress as he said my name. “I want you to meet someone.”

I looked back but didn’t let myself get to Steve. I settled my eyes firmly on the (of course, handsome,) wavy-haired brunet next to him. Steve then introduced me to his friend, Bruce Banner.

“Sorry for the terrible first impression,” I said as we shook hands.

“I’m sure Steve deserved it,” Bruce said kindly. “And I know Tony did.”

“Hey,” the two of them said in near-unison.

“You are right,” I said. “On both counts.”

“What is this rudeness at my party?” Tony grumbled. “I could kick you both out.”

“You promise?” Bruce said, which was much funnier than my response of grabbing a few hors d’oeuvres and hastily wrapping them in a napkin.

Steve tugged at my sleeve again as the conversation turned to Who Can Roast Tony The Best. I leaned in closer to Steve and he came down to my ear to ask, “Do you still have that corner open?” in a low voice that made me shudder.

‘Boy do I,’ I thought but kept that to myself. I grabbed his sleeve and pulled as I slipped out of the group, and he followed easily.

The party picked up in noise and excitement but Steve and I stayed in my second-favorite corner for a while, sharing my napkin-wrapped snacks and drinking the water he had momentarily stolen away to grab (and which he refused to replace with alcohol until I had drunk the whole thing).

It was getting a little chilly since we were right by a patio door but I was content and tried to show as much. Steve left momentarily to go say hi to someone and I rubbed my arms, trying to warm and wake myself at the same time. While it wasn’t necessarily past my bedtime it was just…tiring. I was a little relieved that Steve had stepped away, because it gave me a few moments to rest my eyes.

“Hey.”

“Back already?” I asked and opened my eyes as I smiled at him.

“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked and hesitated, like he would actually leave if I said so. Dork.

“Of course not,” I said. “I just…I know you have friends here; you don’t have to keep me company if you don’t want to.”

“What if I want to?” Steve said and glanced around, coming back to me with a shy smile that was begging for a kiss.

I swallowed the urge and smiled at him. “Well. I’m certainly not going to chase you off.”

His eyes brightened and he retook his place next to me. We went back to staying in affable silence and it was good to have a reminder of why I didn’t really want to kiss him. This was the most comfortable I had been with a human being in a very long time and I couldn’t stand the thought of losing him. Not for awkwardness, not for regret, not for anything.

Apparently I was worse at concealing the chill than I thought. “Here,” Steve said and didn’t wait a second before he draped his jacket over my shoulders. “Is that better?”

I was caped with a warm, surprisingly soft jacket that smelled like Steve. ‘Better’ was a wildly inaccurate term; I was lucky I wasn’t fucking catatonic. God, I had problems. “You don’t need it?”

“Nah,” he said. And put his arm around me. “Is this okay?”

“Warm,” was the only word I could form.

“Good,” he chuckled and did not pull away from me, even when the door didn’t open for a while. I was so comfortable. Too comfortable. But I ignored the warning bells and leaned my head against his shoulder, letting my eyes droop a little in comfort.

And then I noticed his friends were staring at us and my eyes opened right back up. Fuck, shit, fuck, did they know? He had at least two spies for friends, they had to know, I was lucky Steve hadn’t yet noticed; how did I get so fucking sloppy? I sat up straight.

“Are you all right?” Steve asked.

“Uh, I think your friends might need you,” I said and nodded in their direction. While he looked over them I swirled the remainder of my water and then tossed it back. “I need a drink.” Understatement.

“All right then,” Steve said and stood with me. “It’s my turn to show you my favorite corner.” And so it was my turn to follow and I did, but when he slipped his arm around me, as we pressed together to squeeze through people, I leaned into it and stole yet another little, selfish moment for myself.

As soon as I got my replacement drink he then led me all the way down the bar, then around and over to a lesser-used part of the wrap-around counter that was away from most of the fun and in an awkward corner that was even out of the light and shaded.

“Nice,” I said. “It’s a little small though. Are we going to rock-paper-scissors or just shove each other out of the way for it?” If I angled just right I could make him shove me into it. Granted, I would probably be made one with the wall, but sacrifices must be made sometimes.

“I have an idea,” Steve said. And he sat down. But just as I was about to commend him on his deviousness he

1) put his hands on my waist

2) pulled

and I

3) turned to grab onto something

4) failed

and 5) fell.

Into his lap.

I sat, frozen for a moment. But I didn’t say anything. Steve didn’t say anything. And I didn’t get up. I just kept…sitting on him. Eventually I found my voice. “Did I crush you?” I asked, feeling a little hoarse, and probably drowned out by the sounds of cheering.

“No,” Steve said, hard to hear through the excitement of the countdown as it started. I turned my upper body to look at him, but whatever joke I was going to make about ‘comfortable seats’ died before it formed.

Steve, half-cast in shadows and whatever scattered lightshow was going on behind us, stared at me, something inscrutable. A spot of red light splashed over his lips for a moment and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. They were slightly opened, dry from the air, and I felt so warm, so…what could it hurt? Just one little moment; would he mind so much just one little ta–

His arms tightened around me and he moved, bringing those lips to meet mine as the room erupted in cacophony. After just a second I slid my drink onto the counter, wrapped my arms around him, and returned the kiss with everything I had.

<<Previous Chapter Next Chapter>>

[henkinsjenkins]

A professor’s Journal

This is a Fallout fanfic, Deacon X male Reader (OC)

Chapter 1: Lets make a deal!

Prologue | We don’t mention him

Story: Sole wasn’t the only one to come from vault 101, there was another. But he had escaped years ago and joined the railroad. Sole, following his fellow vault mate, learns what really happened at the switchboard, and why they don’t mention the Professor.

“-2274, March.13 I met the strangest man trying to break into my room today. His excuse? A man was dying, it was Charley so I knew the shades was lying. Ain’t nothing gonna kill that man. In the end it turns out the burglar was actually an agent from that Railroad. The one Charley kept yapping about. Was gonna decline their offer of course, I’m anything but noble . . . But living as a hack doctor for the rest of my life didn’t feel like it would be fun. Let's hope I’m not wrong.” . . . . . . . . . . . . 

“I heard the railroad is real.” One of the drunks had leaned over to the dark haired man that sat to his right. “I’m thinking about joining. It be like my new poor-pose. Besides drinking my life away.” He chuckled waving his glass. 

Deacon raised his glass at the male, sure the guy was a drunk but despite that he was assured by the boss to take this sort of thing legit for potential recruits or information. After being temporarily expelled from the Railroad, he had no choice but to do recon and spy work. 

‘See what those wastelands have. We can't run the Railroad with only 13 members.’ 

“Oh really? Why would you do that?”

The man babbled on talking about synths, being brave, and about how cruel the world was. Deacon knew it was nothing more than drunken blabber. 

What else was he to do? Boss told him to listen out for any potential, it wasn’t like Deacon had much of a choice. He only could investigate the small trading post until something else came up.

His eyes rolled behind his sunglasses ready to move on. At least until the man said something that caught his attention. 

“There’s a man. He’s sorta the only doctor around that isn’t wandering in a caravan. Nobody knows his real name or where he's originally from. Though I think he knows about this Railroad.”

Deacon edged the drunk to speak more about the man he was speaking about. A possible lead he could check out even if it was just a rumor, Deacon was curious if the doctor knew of their location. To prevent another attack like the last one, he had to check this doctor out no matter what.

“He wears that funky gas mask all of the time so you can't miss him. Nobody really talks to him and he doesn't-” 

Before the drunk man's words could escape his lips the man was vomiting all over the bar. Luckily for Deacon he aim on the other side of the stool. The bartender heard the sound of puking before cursing loudly at the mess his patron made.

“What the hell Charley?!” he walked over throwing his hands up in frustration. 

“Who gave ya another beer?”

‘Oops.’ Deacon thought, remembering he offered the man a beer when they first started talking. 

The said man, Charley only moaned in response before slumping against the bar in a drunken slumber. 

“I'll pay 50 caps to anyone who takes his sorry ass to the Doctor.” A few people got up but being closer Deacon was the first to grab the opportunity. 

“Up on the second floor, to the left past the second room. He's used to taking care of Charley. Alongside others.” 

Deacon nodded lifting the poor man's arm over his shoulder. Deacon did his best lunging the overweight man up the stairs but found it difficult balancing him.

Following the bartender's directions Deacon found, what he hoped was the Doctor's office. The door was locked and still solid enough to the point where he couldn't tell if someone was home. Sighing Deacon set the drunken man off to the side. 

He knocked twice before knocking again.

He waited but there was no answer.

Charley slumped against the hallway wall moaning in discomfort as he shifted. Deacon was glad he didn't hurl while they were coming up the stairs. 

Pulling out a bobby pin Deacon looked around him. Making sure there was nobody else is the shady hallway. Crouching he started to pick the door's lock. Thankfully he was good at this, so it wouldn't be long before he can break in.

Though before the agent could continue a cough from behind stopped his movements. 

“You know from where I come from. This sort of thing would land you in jail.” 

Deacon turned seeing a tall man with a mask. A gas mask nonetheless. 'Ah this must be the doctor' Deacon thought. The man stood there with a bag in hand and the other a small handgun pointed at Deacon's head.

 Slowly he could feel the panic creep on him, Deacon tried focusing on an excuse that would get him out of whatever sticky situation he had gotten into. Otherwise he was gonna have to visit the doc himself. Preferably a different doctor than the one in front of him.

“Well you see this man right here is sick! He needs medical attention asap. Otherwise he might die. So I thought I could narrow some supplies."

The tall man looked down at the snoring drunk. It was obvious the man was just in a drunken slumber, drool leaking from his mouth while he snored like a log.

“He looks like all the other drunks that pass out on the street."

Deacon swallowed before giving a quick save. “Not only that! I think I soaked up a bit too many Rads and could use some Rad-x myself. Of course I was going to-"

“What does that have to do with breaking and entering? Besides you're not even glowing." The masked man interrupted. 

Deacon gave a nervous chuckle. He wondered if it was too late to run at this point.

“It's not like you're the first one to try and break into my room. So I don't have anything worth stealing.” The masked man sighed, putting his gun away he took out a pair of keys.

Deacon moved aside as the man reached the door. He thought about making a quick dash for it and just coming back another day and trying again but with a new identity. Deacon watched as the man turned the doorknob to his room and walked in. 

This was his chance to escape but the masked man turned. 

“Are you coming in or just gonna stand there with your mouth open?”

Deacon thought about it and decided there was no time to waste.

If he was going to find information he had to do it fast. There was no point in staying around when there were other people he needed to talk with. The fact he needed to continue on with his mission and find more members was pressuring. Why bother leaving now? It didn't seem like the man was hostile.

“What about the guy outside?” 

The Doctor waved him off not giving a second look. Deacon wondered what kind of doctor this man was as he stepped into his office. Looking around it was a pretty empty room. A desk, bed and a few chairs. The bag he was carrying was sat down next to a few others, from what Deacon could notice to be duffel bags. 

“I seen that guy drink rat poison and he was good the next morning. This much booze won't do anything. No matter how irradiated it is.”

Deacon only took a seat after the masked man did, sitting across from him he couldn't tell exactly what the doctor was thinking. Should he say something? He thought realizing that they both were just sitting there in silence. 

The doctor had finally spoke, his voice was deep but muffled by the gaskets on his mask. It made Deacon wonder why he was hiding his face in the first place. Considering the drunk from before had said. Maybe he was hiding something. 

 “So, what's your real reason being here? Trying to assassinate me? Or maybe you're one of those Gunner boys trying to kidnap me again. If that's the case I'm gonna have to do something about that.”

Thinking fast Deacon recalled the drunks rambles from earlier. If the doctor knew anything. If the mask man didn't he might throw him an offer. As much as he didn't want to cause any more risk for the organization. They needed agents and having a doctor on board would help with the injured back in HQ.

“Okay...I'll just come out and say it. I heard you might have information on the Railroad that could help me join.”

“You want to join the Railroad?” 

Deacon could swore the man's tone sounded confused. Genuinely or fake he couldn't tell with the sight muffle.

It was obvious the man talking to him had gave in to Charley's bullshit and probably Arden's as well. He wasn’t sure how to exactly confront the sun glass wearing man's idiocy. He was nothing more than a shady doctor, working his best for caps. He sighed realizing his lack of social skills only fueled the craze maniacs of the trading post. All of which, had theories on who he was.

“Look, buddy. All I can tell you is that, a bunch of people started talking about this 'Railroad' awhile back."

 Their whole idea to protect these synths and free them from whatever machine slavery sounded noble but it isn't worth it. Synths were just machines that mimicked human life, why else would they exist? He never cared about whether or not they were human or if they shouldn't be treated differently. He was an ex mercenary doing his best to get by.

“I really don't know what old Charley here has been filling your ears with but I don't know anything about a Railroad. I don't even know what a synth is so you're barking down the wrong tree."

The Doc said re-positioning himself, leaning closer to the man in shades. “I would lay off interrogating drunks for the time being, and focusing on actually finding whatever evidence you're looking for.”

Deacon hummed, he knew well enough that he couldn't tell if the man before him was being honest. But that was the game and he had to only assume.

“Well, that's disappointing. Though I gotta ask, what do you know about them?” he poked further. "If they're the talk around town then there's gotta be something."  

The Doctor sat back rubbing his chin in thought. He didn't know per say if anyone really knew about them or had any valuable information. 

“I hear as much as Charley rambles about. Otherwise I haven't really heard about them.” He didn't have much thought on them or an option for that matter. “I can only guess that they're a voluntary group. I can't see it having a huge caps flow.”

‘So he’s also a Mercenary.’ Deacon hummed rubbing the back of his neck. It made Deacon feel a sense of relief. Not only was this man a doctor but he also had fighting experience. A two in one he thought.

Having a guy like him would definitely help. He got around, he could help with transporting synths, maybe even pick up information about the Institute’s whereabouts. The idea of convincing him to join was the interesting part. How would he convince an ex mercenary to join a practically broken down, no money organization?

“So you work in a caravan?” Deacon asked. He wanted to know a bit more before making his move.

“No, well...Maybe...At least I did at some point.” 

Stopping mid sentence, the doctor had to think about it. It had been some time since he worked his last mercenary job.

“I was a Mercenary and did all sorts of jobs. I'm pretty sure I did at some point. As of now I’m working as a doctor. So if you don't have anything wrong with you, you should leave.”

“But there is! I do need help, but its not...Medical.”

"Then why are you here?"

The doctor sat quietly waiting for Deacon to continue. 

“I have a second lead but I can't go traveling alone. I need a gun. Hearing that you're a mercenary I figured I could hire you.”

He wasn't sure how to respond to Deacon. The thought of getting back into mercenary work did cross his mind. He just wasn't sure he could fight like he used too. Getting older was obviously a set back, despite being only in his thirties. 

Playing doctor had its perks, but there was no real money like he did back in his mercenary days.

“So if I pay you, lets say, 50 caps just to get me there and another 50 to stick around. Would you be interested?” Deacon laid his offer.

“No.”

That was quick...

“Okay...What about...” Deacon pulled out his cap stash, it was noticeable that it was light and the Doc could see it. Much to his displeasure. He chuckled watching as the man struggled to come up with a better offer.

“My price is 200 and a well lit dinner. But for you honey, cause I'm feeling nice. I’ll do it for 100 with dinner in an alley.”

“Deal.” Deacon said throwing his hand out to shake. The Doc took Deacon’s hand and shook it. 

“A deal it is.” 

[mr-lancers-english-class]

Waiting to Die Part 3

Waiting to Die Part 3!

AO3 isn’t working for me, but I’ll update when it is.

Word Count: 1916

Sam didn’t go to school the next day. She had woken up with a massive headache, and when her mother checked, a perfectly normal temperature of 97° (for Sam that was absurdly high, but Pamela didn’t know that). As a mature and responsible high school junior who was definitely totally worried about getting good enough grades to get into a good college, she spent all day texting Danny and Tucker. She tried using Discord, but after twenty messages with no responses, Sam remembered that first, the school wifi had recently gone on another purge and now blocked any sight deemed “games” or “personal” or “messaging,” and second, Danny had English Literature and Tucker had Statistics and neither teacher was particularly forgiving when it came to phones. After watching half of a movie and knitting a hat, she tried again, this time via text.

SM: Am I missing anything good?

TF: No

DF: Yes

TF: Definitely not

DF: Wes has decided that Tucker’s a ghost

SM: But…

SM: He is. Is that news?

TF: Ha ha

SM: I’m here all week, folks

DF: Lancer gave me your homework. We’re starting presentations next week, and we all need to make an outline for next class

SM: I thought only six people are presenting?

DF: Yeah, but we don’t know which six, and I think Lancer’s gonna pick based on the outlines

Sam groaned. She had not enjoyed reading The Great Gatsby, and did not want to have to think about the book any more, much less give a ten minute presentation.

SM: Well fuck

TF: Lol

TF: That’s what you get for taking Lit honors

DF: Moderately jealous

SM: You did this to yourself, Fenton

He had. Where her parents had made her take the hardest courses, his parents often didn’t even realize he was at school, much less think about his course load.

TF: Sooooo……… how’re you doing?

SM: My head hurts and I have a fever

DF: How high?

SM: 97 F

DF: That’s not good

SM: I know

DF: Aren’t you normally like a 93?????

SM: Yeah

TF: When do you start melting?

DF: Dude!!!

SM: Right under 100

DF: You don’t ask somebody when they start melting!!!!!

DF: But Sam, if you get up to 98, let me know and take an ice bath

DF: I don’t want to have to explain to your parents why you’re missing and there’s a puddle of ectoplasm in your room

SM: That’s fair

TF: Gtg. Tetslaff is yelling at me for not changing out

SM: Good luck! Don’t die!

DF: He should be fine…. Right?

SM: Nope

Suddenly, Sam straightened up. Her hair started to float up around her head and the air smelled a lot cleaner. She sighed, and climbed out of bed.

SM: Ghost. I’ll text you when i’m done

DF: Valerie just “went to the bathroom”

SM: Got it

DF: Be safe! You’re still sick

Sam pulled her hair back into a quick ponytail, stuffed a pillow under her sheets and turned the lights off to keep her mother and father from noticing anything, and shuffled over to the window.

“Well then, guess I’ll die.” As her voice trailed off, the two rings split around her waist, and she transformed. Immediately, she staggered and fell against the wall. “Oh, no no no. Not good. Come on, Sam. Just one ghost. You got this, you got this.” She quickly turned her arm intangible and reached through her wall, grabbing the Fenton Thermos and Fenton Wrist Ray she kept there. Danny had been both building and stealing his parents weapons since the Trio first started fighting ghosts, leading to the rather sizeable hidden collection they now maintained. Aside from the three other guns and extra thermos in her walls, Sam had stuffed an arsenal into the school walls, her locker, Danny and Tucker’s locker, her car, an old oak tree in the park, the library bathroom, and the Nasty Burger.

“Alright, let’s do this.” She attached the Wrist Ray to her left hand and the Thermos to her belt as she phased through the wall. It only took her a minute of meandering up Main Street to find a trail of small craters and broken bricks, and only a few more seconds to find Skulker.

“Ah, Ghost Child! You are here, which means I can-”

“Cutting you short there, buddy. I’m sick. I need to be home sleeping. I don’t have time to deal with your whole ‘Kill the Whelp! Take the Whelp’s pelt and hang it on my wall! Argh! bullshit. Can we just call it a draw and you head back to the Ghost Zone?”

“Never! I shall be victorious in this hunt-”

“Dude, seriously. You never win. Like, never. Not once. I’m giving you one chance to go home. The Red Huntress is gonna be here two minutes ago, and she’s not as nice as I am. Can you please just go away?”

“You are weakened. That means I shall-”

Skulker was cut off and thrown spinning backwards in the air as a missile hit him square in the chest. Sam groaned and dodged to the side as Valerie shot by her. She popped up, and almost went crashing to the ground just as fast, her vision fuzzy and darkening. She watched as Valerie went zipping around, peppering Skulker with rockets and plasma blasts and the occasional sideswipe with her hoverboard. If she hadn’t been on the verge of falling, Sam would have taken a moment to appreciate Valerie’s skill. Sam had never seen her equal. Back when they had dated for a month in freshman year, back before either of them knew what they were doing as ghost and ghost hunter, Danny and Tucker were convinced Sam was better. Having seen Valerie in action (and having been on the receiving end of that action more times than she would have cared for and thankfully not recently) Sam knew that, if it weren’t for her plant powers and preference for negotiation over confrontation, Valerie would have long surpassed her. As it was, most ghosts just needed a few kind words, directions to a natural portal, or a weekly shipment of boxes.

“Take that, ghost!” Valerie’s shout jolted Sam back to the present, right in time to fall into the road. She sat up as Skulker crashed a few feet away.

“I shall have your skin, huntress!” Skulker roared, clawing out of the new crater.

“I already told you, Skulker, go away!” Sam planted her hands on the ground, and let her powers loose. In seconds, vines and roots began to spring from the ground, breaking through the asphalt and wrapping themselves around Skulker’s suit.

“No! I will not be defeated by a tree!”

“It’s poison ivy right now, thank you very much, and yes, you will.” Sam pulled at the vines with her mind, and they brought the metal suit crashing into the ground. Skulker’s head popped off and rolled away, his little feet kicking frantically at nothing.

“And in you go,” Valerie laughed as she pulled out her own thermos and sucked in the head, as well as the rest of the armor. “That wasn’t too bad, eh?”

Sam smiled weakly. “Not too bad.” Valerie nodded back, her mask hiding any emotions. The two girls had come to a tentative truce at the end of sophomore year, and had been getting more comfortable with each other ever since. Sam had even gotten a burner phone so Valerie could call her at any time. She hadn’t yet, but it was the thought that counted.

“Hey, you good?”

“Mostly. Just a little under the weather.”

“Aren’t you dead?” Sam turned abruptly to glare at Valerie “Ack, wait, that came out wrong. Sorry. I just, well, I didn’t think you could get sick.”

“Oh,” Sam’s face relaxed. “Yeah, neither did I. But, here I am.”

“You should go rest.”

“I’m planning on it.”

“Like, right now. Go back to the Ghost Zone. I can take care of things here, at least for a few days. Besides, if I need any help, you have a phone number for a reason.”

Sam sighed. “Okay. Don’t die, Huntress.” She lifted off the ground a little.

“You too, Wraith.” Sam chuckled at the mention of her ghost half’s name as she flew shakily away. Valerie sped off in the other direction with the small hope that maybe she would make it back in time for the end of class.

“Now, back home I go. Slowly, very slowly,” Sam said to nobody. “Very, very slowly. Don’t want to collapse, don’t want to fall.” She faltered above the buildings. “I’m gonna set myself down right there, because falling hurts a lot. That is more power than I’ve used in a while. That was more power than I meant to use.” Sam set herself down in the middle of the road, and glanced back at where the fight had just gone down. Vines were everywhere. A few were still growing, twisting up to the sky. The entire road was blocked, along with half of the sidewalk.

“That is way more power than I thought.” Sam turned away from the destruction and pulled out her burner phone. She wasn’t sure how, but once she clipped it to her belt, the phone was always there when she transformed.

“Where is it… there it is.” She speed dialed the fire department. “Yes, hello?”

“Amity Park Fire Department Non-Emergency line. How can I help?” The operator on the other side of the phone sounded too cheery.

“Hi, yeah, it’s the Wraith.”

“Oh, hi! How are you? It’s been so long!”

“I’m pretty good, Sharon, you?”

“It’s good, it’s good. Nothing’s burned down recently.” Sharon, the operator, laughed.

“That’s good. So, I made a bit of a mess…”

“Just now?”

“Uh huh. Skulker showed up on Main Street.”

“Is everyone okay? Do I need to get an ambulance? A firetruck? The police? Did you burn something down?” Sharon’s voice rose an octave as lots of scrambling and thudding was heard through the phone.

“Nothing’s burned, Sharon, and nobody’s hurt. No police or ambulances necessary. Just a lot of vines in the middle of the road.”

“Can’t you undo them?”

“To be honest, I don’t know how. I was hoping, if there’s some extra people at the station, you could send some to burn them down?”

“You said in the middle of the road?”

“Yeah, they’re growing through the road. And a few on the sidewalk. And they’re poison ivy. Sorry.” Sam winced.

“I’ll send a crew down. Main Street?”

“Yeah, right in front of the mayor’s office.”

“Okie dokie. Sounds good. And thank you!”

Sharon hung up before Sam could respond. The woman was nice, and Sam liked talking to her. She almost never got to, but Sharon didn’t know anything about her other than their phone calls and the news, so when they did talk, Sam enjoyed the outside opinion and caring voice.

“And now, all the way home. You got this Sam. You got this.” She continued walking, slowly and shakily.

It took her another half hour to walk to her house, and then three minutes to muster the strength to fly up to her window and phase through. She wasn’t sure when she had transformed back, but a quick glance in the mirror told her Sam Manson was lying on her bed and not the Wraith. She sighed lightly, and drifted off to sleep.

[thetrishtalgem]

Bad Case of Loving you - Julian/MC

Hey I wrote another fic since y’all seemed to enjoy my Asra one! (I will not link since Tumblr got stupid about links). So this is a silly little idea I had for Julian and the Apprentice. Hope you guys like it!

Special thanks to @typicalguby​ for being my editor! Also feel free to look it up on AO3 under my same username!

Julian Devorak. At first, he seemed like a total enigma to you. He was one of the most infamously known plague doctors - and not just for his own medical abilities. It was the bounty hanging over his head for having allegedly killed Count Lucio three years ago at the last masquerade. You’d heard tales of how he leapt from the burning room, dodging palace guards, and making his daring escape out of Vesuvia. Then, three years after the Count’s death, he decides to return in the midst of the Countess announcing that there would be another masquerade held, starting with him getting hanged for his crimes. It didn’t make a lick of sense to you.

And then you met the man.

He had an affinity for the dramatics, as you had discovered when he deemed that breaking into your shop was an appropriate way to meet you for the first time. Then there was the astounding lack of foundation surrounding the accusation made against him murdering Count Lucio. It didn’t take speaking to the cards for you to sense that he was innocent - but it was going to be the matter of how you proved it. No less, without incriminating yourself in the process.

Sitting across from him at the Rowdy Raven wasn’t exactly the best way to make the case that you weren’t harboring a fugitive, but it certainly beat the alternative of chasing costumed guards pell mell through the gardens in the hopes of retrieving your Emperor card. Asra’s Emperor card. The thought made your blood run cold, though you felt yourself relax again as Julian swaggered back to the table, two steins in hand.

“There you are,” he smiled, throwing his head back as he took a long swig from his cup.

You peered into the drink that he had just placed before you. You didn’t notice any bugs swimming in the liquid, and it smelled faintly like a fruity drink. But you couldn’t help being cautious. You reached out and took the stein from Julian’s spidery fingers and brought it to your lips. You chugged it down and slammed it on the table when you finished, giving him a somewhat smug grin.

He threw his hands up helplessly and chuckled, “You’re smart not to trust a free drink. But if I really  wanted to poison you, I would have just ordered us some seafood.”

“It’s that bad here, huh?” You raised an eyebrow.

With a nod of his head he replied, “Anything caught in that river should be thrown back and given an apology.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. Despite all the things that you had heard about him, there was something about him that made you feel...at ease.

“You know,” he said after a moment’s pause, “I never did get your name.”

Your face flushed bright red as you told him. He leaned back and hummed. There was something about the way that he said your name that sent shivers down your spine.

“Now that is a name. Such strength, such presence. Please...call me Julian.”

He offered you his hand, his gaze piercing you. It was as if something came over you as you reached out, intertwining your fingers with his. Something about it that felt...right.

“So, I have to ask...how exactly did you wind up in that alleyway?” He pried as he pulled his hand from mine. “At first, I thought you would be here on account of the Countess. But I’m not locked up, and you’re covered in burrs. Maybe I’m projecting here, but...are you perhaps a fugitive like myself?”

“Ah, something like that,” you muttered, your gaze nervously shifting to the cup in front of you. Julian reached forward, plucking a burr from your hair and turning it over in his gloved hand for a moment.

He grinned as he placed the burr to the side of the table. “Escaped through the palace gardens? Through that little door, and down the side? We have so much in common already.”

You couldn’t help but smile and laugh out loud a bit at his joke. He picked up the stein in front of him, taking a sip before setting back down on the table. A smile gleamed in Julian’s eye as he looked across the table at you. His hand flinched for a moment, as if he was going to reach out for you, but he hesitated.

“So,” he finally spoke, trying to cut through some of the awkward tension, “where will you go? Back to your shop?”

Your shop. Suddenly you found yourself more alert, perched on the edge of your seat as if you’re ready to go bursting through the doors at the next word. But Julian raised a finger, shaking it in disapproval, “Ah, but that’s the first place that the palace guards would go looking for you, isn’t it?”

“...You’re right,” you admitted in defeat. You leaned back in your seat, slumping against the hardwood of the booth.

“I could still tell you how to get there, if you’d like?” Julian offered. You looked up at him, giving him a half-hearted smile. His face flushed red as he slid to the edge of the booth, grabbing your empty cup. “Here. At the very least, let me get you another drink.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to-,”

“Nonsense. I insist on it.”

Before you had the chance to argue with him any further, he made off into the crowd. You watched as he slipped between the cluttered tables of patrons with ease. It was as if he was used to this particular type of scene, which didn’t really surprise you. Your mind drifted off, suddenly feeling the weight of the whole situation on your shoulders. Here you sat, across the table from a man accused of murder. The very man that you were just sought out to condemn. For a moment, the image of him hanging lifelessly from the gallows flashed into your mind. It didn’t match up at all to the man you were going to share a drink with.

He snapped you out of your own little world as he put the cup down on the table. Somewhat sheepishly, he grinned. “Since you seemed to enjoy my drink so much...I got you another one of those.”

“That sounds...nice,” you answered him with a smile. For a moment, you thought you saw his face flash bright red. But he turned and headed towards the bar too quickly for you to be certain.

One drink turned to two, then to three, and after that you stopped counting how many “one more rounds” Julian had offered you. Your entire body felt warm, like it was floating. Julian seemed to be practically glowing in the dim light of the tavern. You set your stein down on the table, clanking it a bit loudly against the wood.

“You know something, Julian?” you slurred and clapped your hand down on his arm. “I have a theory.”

Julian raised an eyebrow. “A theory, hm?”

“You...you…” your words trailed off as you started to chuckle. “You’re not a murderer.”

“Oh? How can you be so sure of that now?” A devious grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. Mischief sparkled in his eye.

Your smile widened ear to ear. “You’re just too nice. An’ funny. And kind of...hot.”

“Ah...um…” Julian’s face was as red as his hair. He seemed to be struggling for words.

Suddenly, you stood from the booth that you were sitting at. Julian’s eye shot wide with surprise as he stuttered your name, “Wh-what are you doing?”

“I’ve got an idea!” you shouted. All heads in the bar suddenly turned towards you both.

Julian sank further into the booth. “I don’t know if I like this idea…”

“This is a tavern, right?” You shouted, leaning down so that your gazes could still meet. “Don’t they do like open mic things?”

You didn’t bother to wait for Julian to give you a reply to that question. You simply turned away from the booth and staggered over to a table. You greeted the bar patron as if they were your oldest friend.

“Hey,” you greeted them with a drunken grin. “Gimmie a beat.”

Though initially confused, they couldn’t help but smile along with you. The next thing you knew, they were beating a steady rhythm on the table. You bobbed your head along to it, letting your body feel the pulse of the music. Then your gaze turned to Julian, who was practically ready to crawl under the table at this point.

“Julian!” you shouted much louder than necessary. “This one’s for you.”

A distinct wave of approval passed through the rest of the bar patrons. And without warning, you began.

A hot summer night, fell like a net.

I’ve got to find my baby yet.

Several cheers of approval and a few whistles echoed through the small tavern. Then you sauntered over to the booth you had been sitting in with Julian. He looked at you with his eye wide open and tried desperately not to let his jaw hang open as you leaned across the table.

I need you, to soothe my head.

Turn my blue heart to red.

Without warning you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, putting him right in the open of the tavern. Some other patrons had begun to pound to the rhythm of your song as well.

Doctor, Doctor, gimmie the news, I’ve got a bad case of lovin’ you.

No pill’s gonna cure my ill I’ve got a bad case of lovin’ you.

As you pulled Julian closer and began to lead him in dance, you could see some patrons stand on their stool and clap. Quickly you looked at Julian, whose face was still a bright shade of red. But you could feel him beginning to relax in your arms, and you couldn't help but smile. You brought your hands up to his face and cupped his cheeks.

A pretty face don’t make a pretty heart.

I learned that, buddy from the start.

Finally you saw the grin break out across his face. You let him go to back away for a moment and hoisted yourself up onto an empty high top table.

You think I’m cute. A little bit shy.

Mama, I ain’t that kind of guy.

Despite all the noise and chaos, you could hear Julian’s hearty chuckle over all of the crowd. Then you crossed your legs and put your hands over your chest, as if you were a patient expecting dire news.

Doctor, Doctor, gimmie the news I got a bad case of lovin’ you.

No pill’s gonna cure my ill I’ve got a bad case of lovin’ you.

You slid off of the table, strutting your way back over to Julian. As the crowd continued to pound on the table and cheer, you worked off some of the buttons of Julian’s long black overcoat. Your hand rested on top of his chest as you looked up at him.

I know you like….you like me on top.

Tell me Mama….are you gonna stop?

All of Julian’s confident facade fell away at that last line of yours. You couldn’t help but grin as you backed off again for a moment, rallying the rest of the bar to cheer with you.

You had me down, twenty-one to zip.

Smile of Judas on your lip.

Then you got close to him again. You ran your finger along his lips, tracing the smile the somewhat nervous smile that was beginning to cross his face again.

Shake my fist. Knock on wood.

I’ve got it bad and I’ve got it good!

At the last line you pressed his body as close to yours as you could possibly can. Though you stumbled a bit to lead him, it was like the two of you fit together perfectly.

Doctor, Doctor, gimmie the news I’ve got a bad case of lovin’ you.

No pill’s gonna cure my ill I”ve got a bad case of lovin’ you.

As if to signify that you were done with your song, you pulled Julian down closer to your height and pressed a desperate kiss to his lips. The entire tavern had erupted into raucous applause at this point, but you could hardly hear it beyond the beating of your own heart. Nobody else seemed to be in that room but you and Julian for the moment. He leaned into your kiss, as if he craved it. As if he craved you.

You pulled away after what seemed like an eternity and grinned at him. “You taste salty.”

“Thanks,” He chuckled. “Must be the Salty Bitters.”

“While I think you taste good,” you muttered, burying your face into his chest.

As always though, no tender moment seemed to be good enough to last. In through the window burst a black bird, beating its black wings frantically. It crashed into a string of bells, continuing its cacophonous cawing. You felt Julian immediately tense in your arms.

The barkeep shouted in alarm, “Guards! Palace guards!”

Before you could even process what it all meant for you, Julian had already swept you off of your feet. He pushed frantically through the thick crowd of patrons hastily trying to exit the tavern. The cold night air suddenly seemed to snap you out of the warm fuzzies and into harsh reality. You were supposed to be at the palace, looking for your missing card. Had the Countess come to find you and have you arrested?

Julian dodged into an alleyway with you before gently setting you down into the shadows. His hands rested on your shoulders and his fingers gripped tightly. As if letting you go meant losing you forever. “Go back up that road, take a left, a right, a sharp right and you’ll reach the round street. It’s long, but it’s a straight shot and it’ll take you as far as the marketplace. From there...you’ll be able to find your way, yes?”

Your whole body felt jittery. Absentmindedly you nod your head and let Julian pull you along to the mouth of the alley.

“Up the road, left, right, sharp right, Round the street,” His face was contorted into worry. But then it gave way to a kind smile. “Good luck.”

As he turned to leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and whirled him around. The night air made your head feel just a bit clearer. You leaned up on your tiptoes and Julian met you halfway as your lips pressed together once more. Despite the frantic atmosphere, this kiss felt sweeter. More genuine.

Quickly you pulled away and grinned at him, “For luck.”

His face was still a bright shade of red as he nodded at you. “For luck.”

Then he released you, and you stumbled out into the road. You took a quick look around and noticed that everyone and everything seemed to be locked away and escaping now. One last glance backwards let you see that even Julian was already gone. And despite this being typical behavior for him, you couldn’t help but feel this wouldn’t be the last time you’d be meeting like this.

[secretadventuresociety]

Episode 30 Recap

It’s that time again, SASholes! I’m Bren, resident SAStorian and Kü enthusiast. Welcome to Episode 30: Fire and Bone.

“Who Broke the Sky?”

On the walk back from the Night Market, our heroes take in the bright swirls of the aurora in the Mardosta welkin. Despite the heaviness of the evening, the sight brings on conversation about the coming festival-- which will necessitate new clothes and money to buy them with. Kess makes sure to impress upon Pearce that he can’t wear his red paint-stained mask, and so the gunslinger turns to Kü and asks if he would take off his helmet; his reasoning being that it would be ‘weird’ if he wore it. Now, I know what you’re doing here, Shooty Boy, and it’s admirable. However, if you ever tell my son how to dress again I will rip your character sheet up in front of you. ANYWAY. The matter is dropped as the party’s attention once again returns to gold (and honestly? Mood.) and they decide to go seek out Norse and Arthur to find out if they found the note and attached moolah that Pearce accidentally slid under their door. They find the couple lounging on their floor-- the whole floor that they have to themselves-- with cocktails in hand. Arthur immediately offers them a ‘Mardosta Mule’, which excites Kü. He turns to Pearce and exclaims that he’s had horses and donkeys, but never this ‘newfangled fusion’. 

As they all get turnt, Norse admits she did find the letter and assures the group she did NOT tell Brienne about it, just in case. Relieved, Kess explains the mix-up, then asks what her elders DID tell the detective. Norse reports that they were relatively honest, up until the point where they were questioned about Xarus’ presence in the house. They covered well, however, telling the investigator that he came to work with one of Kess’ brothers. The investigation does not seem to be closed, but the parents think that they are in the clear for now. Kess asks about Vendreth’s reaction, and Norse isn’t as forthcoming. All she will say is that he was fine, just upset that he wasn’t told sooner. Placated, the adventurers start in on their Madosta experiences, which to be fair, are limited because of… you know… all the murder. In any case, it makes a perfect venue for distraction as Pearce and Kess allow the nine year old kobold to drink TWO mules-- which for his body weight HAS to be more like TWENTY-TWO mules-- so that they can possibly talk him into removing his helmet. His skull. His-- skull helmet. Skelmet.

Kü gets to the point where the alcohol is giving him the sads instead of a buzz (which, RELATABLE, amirite?) and he tells everyone he’s just trying to ‘not think about how I feel or feel about how I think’ and realizes the mule is donkey-kicking him right in his racehorse heart. I think I tried too hard on that last sentence but I’m leaving it. Fuck you. In an attempt to make Kü feel better, Kess brings out one of our favorite callback jokes-- the singing bass. She tosses it at the kobold and in his drunken haze he bites at the writhing meat, coming away with a mouthful of dead scales. Did you guys know that thing was an actual, enchanted fish? ANYWAY. With this being the nail in the coffin of the worst day of Kü’s life (which INCLUDES his mom dying), our little buddy nopes out to sleep off the alcohol, leaving Pearce and Kess to their own devices.

The Suicide Squad

Being wary of the dozing kobold, Pearce quietly tells Kess that if Brienne comes after Kü to incarcerate him; he would take the fall for him. Kess counters that they probably have ways to see if he’s telling the truth-- but then realizes that they could eliminate the problem altogether if they separated the being from Kü. The fishsticks from earlier betray our druid-- the combination of the grease and stress forcing them from her stomach and onto the nice guest room floor. She flings a sidelong look at Kü and decides that their ‘stealth speak’ may not be enough to escape Mother’s… uh. Not ears, but-- whatever an evil being uses to listen. I didn’t take Eldritch Anatomy. The pair take off toward the greenhouse, Kess instinctively leading to the place she feels most at home. Once inside, they rehash all that they know about Skugamor. 

Pearce looks at the scene around him, soil spotted with Kess’ white flowers with the black iris, and he takes off the dried remains of the one he picked and places it with the others. He asks if Ashe is of a similar type as Mother, and Kess denies it. She says that she thinks her power isn’t tied to the being, but it does help him in some way. This inspires her to grow a flower to try and talk to Ashe to get help with their situation, but no answer comes. Pearce, irate, takes hold of it like a microphone and shouts into it, obscenely demanding attention. In a panic, Kess draws the rest of her strength and grows another flower-- and when it only waves in response, an insidious idea blooms. The changeling tells Pearce she saw Ashe when she was dead (unconscious), and without further explanation the gunslinger refuses to help one of his best friends die (get knocked tf out). He does, however, offer to take her to Rook’s room (you know, where the poison is— the poison to kill Kess. Kess’ poison. THAT poison) so that they have someone else to assist should the whole dying (slight coma) thing go wrong.

As they’re headed back into the house already, the duo go into the guest room to let Kü know their plans. Pearce wakes up the kobold and Kess breathlessly explains her brain blast, asking him if he wants to join them. The sleep immediately leaves Kü’s drooping eyes as rage fills its place. His voice booms with pain and accusation-- unbelieving that she could even think of killing herself (taking a quick nap with no breathing) because of him, especially after she told him she wouldn’t leave him the way that Jendee, Dorf, Augustus, and his mother had. He pointedly asks her ‘Do you know how I would feel if you died trying to fix me? Not that I NEED fixing” and as the anger gives way to sadness, he mutters that he was better off asleep. Effectively having talked Kess out of being near-suicidal, Kü takes this opportunity to relieve himself of his party’s company while he cools off. He storms out and starts to stalk the halls for his nightly watch.

Küdini

Now alone, Kü registers Mother attempting to speak with him. She extinguishes all the firelight around him, and the kobold lets loose a bloodcurdling scream for help. Kess and Pearce emerge from the guest room, the former running to all of her relative’s rooms to ensure their safety, and the latter posting up beside Kü. Everyone on their floor seems to be fine, but before they can let a sigh of relief loosen from their lungs, a scream rings out from downstairs. If you’re feeling deja vu, rest assured, it’s about to get REAL different. Pearce yells at Kü to go outside, but as he tries to comply, it’s soon clear that he and his party members are dashing toward the scream instead of going their separate ways. The lights continue to go out as they bolt through the halls-- stopping finally as the group comes to see two hired hands; one standing frozen in horror… and one being constricted by shadows.

Not knowing what to do, Kü tries to counterspell the tendrils of darkness. When nothing happens, he instead casts fly on himself and throws his tiny body at the Drow chef in front of him-- who is suspended in midair, choking from the pressure on his throat. He succeeds, but only inasmuch as he gets him on the ground. Kü watches as the light dies in the chef’s eyes-- not unlike the lantern fires that now flicker to life around them. Kess, acting quickly, brings out a diamond and uses Revivify to save the fallen housemate. The druid then heals him for good measure; giving him no time to recover from his experience before she and Pearce give him food and drink before asking him to recount the events of the night. He doesn’t remember much, and before the two can dig in deeper, Norse pulls Kess aside to ask what the actual fuck is going on. 

Her daughter tells her about Mother, about Kü’s past, about their current predicament. She fears Kü is a warlock, and that the shadowy magic comes from his patron, who is wreaking havoc in their home. Mind clouded by fury, Norse reveals that she was plotting to kill Xarus already, and with this secret out-- a wave of calm washes over her-- and she marvels at Kess having enough magic within her to save a life. It’s then that Norse ushers the younger Shadowmore away to check on her friends. She sees Pearce, and they link up to head outside for Kü. However, once there, they see no trace of him. He’s vanished.

I’ll Fly Away

Unbeknownst to anyone, Kü used the remainder of his Fly spell to escape soundlessly from the Shadowmore manor. It carries him to the treeline of Mardosta, and once it fails, he falls into the snow, sobbing. His shaking arms reach up and lift the helmet from his head-- bringing it to face him. Nothing happens, and the kobold tries to form one word. His heavy heart crushes the ‘why’ rising from his gut, and he lays down on the unforgiving snow. Kü squeezes the skull to his chest and sleep claims him. The green and purple of the aurora above stick behind his eyelids as they close. They twist into a nightmare of screams, slaughter, and ash until everything goes still; melting into a small campfire. The warmth radiates from his mind to his body, and an excited voice calls out to him. Kü attempts to respond, but there is some sort of disconnect. The cry implores him to find them-- admitting they’ve been watching him for some time and are anxious to meet him.

Kü awakens, afraid and unsettled. He reaches out to Mother, who tells him that she’s tired and will talk to him in the morning. The kobold, however, has other plans. He refuses to wait, and Mother fumes at the fact that he thinks he is in any position to be demanding when he took away her kill, but she relents. She asks if Kü doesn’t want her to get stronger anymore, and he timidly replies that he does, but he needs to know who she really is. Her anger rises as she fires back the same question to him-- accusing him of not acting like himself, of being stupid. In recompense for his insolence, Mother tells him that now, HE needs to spill blood for her once a day. If he doesn’t, she will be forced to, and she won’t show any prejudice. Seeing no other way out, the kobold agrees, placing the skull back on his head and sits in silence. After a couple of hours watching the night sky, Kü grows hungry and he decides to try and make his way (SOMEHOW) back to the mansion.

While all this is happening, Kess and Pearce are panicking. Kess shapeshifts into a giant owl and persuades Pearce to hop on her back. In this higher vantage point, they find the missing kobold within twenty minutes, and Kess swoops down to intercept him. Kü assumes he is about to be eaten until he sees Pearce, and Kess drops her form before he can run away. Things escalate quickly from here, and I bet you can guess whose fault it is. Pearce whips out his gun and points it at Kü, assuring the kobold that he doesn’t want to hurt him, but he needs to remove the helmet. Kü relents, placing it on the ground. Kess and Pearce take in their friend’s visage for the first time. He sports small, nubby horns and a long, healed scar from the top of his head to his nose. The gunslinger asks for one reason not to shoot the skull, and Kü tells him he doesn’t think it would stop Mother. The two quickly realize, however, that Kü doesn’t need to be wearing the skull for his powers, which seems to soothe them somewhat. 

Mommy Dearest

Because the hits to my heart never stop, Kü voices his decision to leave the group. He tells Kess and Pearce that he wants to go home to his cave, and they agree-- excited to go with him, thinking digging into his past may help. The kobold shakes his head and clarifies he wants to go alone; he is afraid their timers will go faster if they stay with him-- and that as long as he’s in Mardosta, people will continue to die. He realizes he can let go of his anger at Gus, who only left because he thought what he was doing was right. Pearce tells Kü he has effectively paused his timer; and he and Kess aren’t going anywhere. Kess says they can find a way to break it, but Kü dejectedly murmurs, “She’s the only one who won’t leave. I can’t let her leave; not again’. So-- they then discuss other options; Kü wonders if he can find a Scott-like douchebag (and Xarus, just saying) to take out every day to keep Mother away.

Kess brandishes the page she ripped from the library book and hands it to Kü. He sees the illustration of the struggling victim of the shadows but is unable to read the words; so he passes it off to Pearce to read for him. Afterward, Kess asks the kobold if he believes the entity in his mind to still be his mother. Kü launches into the story of what happened to his real mom in answer; saying that a giant spider had stalked him and that his mother gave up her life for his-- and months later he found her skull, picked clean from other scavengers. That’s when he heard her, telling him to pick up the skull and take her with him. Kess, unnerved by the story, switches back into her owl form and flies the trio to a cave she used to hide in-- covered in dusty furniture and knick knacks. They start a fire with the forgotten relics, and from the flames comes the voice that Kü heard in his dream. She introduces herself as Kertilios, encouraging Kü to call her Kerti. They are able to communicate this time, and Kü learns that she is the disowned daughter of Skugamor, the Goddess of Warmth, the Daughter of Firelight. She tells him they can get rid of Mother together, and he took an important first step by removing his helmet; they’ll need to destroy it.

Overwhelmed, Kü admits that his waking hours hadn’t been very good to him, and though the sleeping hours weren’t much better, he needed some time away from the hurt. The kobold hands off his helmet to Pearce and lies down by the fire. Pearce lets Kess sleep as well, watching the skull for an hour or two before the changeling rises from her sleep, unable to breathe. The gunslinger instinctively attempts to shoot the skull, throwing an apology to Kü as he does so. Kü, however, does not hear it-- his mind is an unending echo of questions. The Shadowmother heard Kü talking to Kerti, and she’s not happy. In terror, Kü makes an effort to banish Kess to another plane of existence long enough for her to be out of Mother’s grip, but it fails. Pearce continues attacking the resilient bone, and Kess shapeshifts to loosen the hold the shadows have on her. Out of magical options, Kü gives Mother a warning. He tells her, “Let go of my friend, you FUCKING BITCH”, and when she doesn’t, he pulls the last bead from his Necklace of Fireball and the helmet goes up in flames; Pearce narrowly missing secondhand damage. The shadows recede violently with a howl, and Kü drops to his knees, hearing a small “You’ve done it” from Kerti in his mind.

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TL;DR

I was not ready for Kü’s Molly Weasley moment, y’all.

I think this is an important time to mention that self-harm does not fix anything; even fantasy problems. *cough*Kess*cough*

Can we be done with the Sad now?? What do you mean we still have DADDY ISSUES to explore?!

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Hugs and Kesses my friends, and catch the next session over at twitch.tv/lochness on September 8th at 7:30CST/8:30EST! If you’d like to watch THIS episode, follow the link below:

Secret Adventure Society | Session 30: Fire and Bone

[astoldbyacertifiedunicorn]

Japril Appreciation Week: Day 4 ⇒ Favorite episode(s)

9x07 : I was made for lovin’ you

Note: Admittedly, this isn’t my favorite episode, that would be 10x12/10x13, 11x11, JTM and JTS, but those episodes already have so many fics  written about them, and I didn’t want to write the same thing. I do, however, even with the sad ending, love this episode because that ‘proposal’ was one of the most wonderful japril moments. Anyway, please enjoy :) 

Positive. 

April hopes that maybe staring harder at the paper, to the point where her vision becomes blurry, will mean that when she refocuses her eyes back on the black letters, they would have magically transformed into a different word. 

Positive. 

Oh well. It wasn't that she wasn't happy. She was. April was, after all, the type of girl who grew up longing for the husband, children, white picket fence house daydream. The catch was that she'd imagined this with her Christian boyfriend, whom she had dated for a respectable number of years, before they'd have their wedding in field with butterflies, after which she'd engage in the wonders of the sexual experience she was abstaining from. 

Positive. 

Life, however, had different plans, it seems. She was now sitting on a cold wooden bench, outside her disaster  magnet of a work place,  holding a piece of paper that confirmed that she was in fact pregnant by her not-Christian, male friend whom she engages in daily sexual activities with, way, way before marriage. At least, the field and butterflies were still on the table. Life had great priorities. 

Positive. 

She wasn't sad it was his baby. No, that part actually made her want to throw her hands in the air, and thank God, although mildly inappropriate at the moment, that she got a chance to procreate with the most wonderful man she knew. He was not only a beautiful specimen of creation, but also a kind hearted, intelligent, incredible human, who happened to be her best friend and occasional.... 'other kind of buddy' as Mark Sloan, rest his soul, would've termed it. 

Positive.

It's the timing that was all messed up. They were just having fun, messing about, rolling around in the metaphorical hay, although there were talks of feelings and marriages, although she wasn't too sure if the marriage came about from those feelings or not. Regardless, there were two best friends with benefits and a baby, and this whole thing was so much more messed up than it appeared to be. 

Positive. 

"What does it say?" 

She turns her body to face him, the contributor to half of the cause of panic, Jackson. He smiles at her, and if she wasn't his best friend, she probably would say he looked very calm for someone who was about to find out they were going to be a father. But she knew him, and she knew that under the cool exterior was a scared, uncertain man who was quite ready to scream into a brown paper bag. 

"Positive." 

"Oh." 

Ah, the happy cries of expecting parents. She watches him glance at his hands, nervously wringing them together. She feels for the guy. This definitely wasn't in his plans, no matter how ready he thinks he is for this. She wasn't even sure if marriage was in Jackson's plans to begin with. He never talked about it with her, and she never asked. He did seem deliriously happy when he'd talked about raising this kid together, but the reality of having a child is a lot more grounding than the possibility of it. 

"Look, Jackson. I know we talked about getting married and all of that, but-" 

"You don't want to?" 

She could be sourly mistaken here, and merely projecting her own desires on to him, but Jackson sounded, almost sad, at the thought that she didn't want to get married. Either way, it could just be about giving the baby a good, happy home. One less child with daddy issues. 

"I do! I do," Does she? She does. She's just scared about the baby and she's scared he's marrying her for the wrong reasons. She's just scared, period. But she does, "I just don't want you to think that we can't raise this baby without necessarily having to get married. Callie and-" 

She stops mid sentence. Okay, so maybe using Jackson's ex mentor and his bisexual, married best friend wasn't exactly the best example in this situation. 

"No, I want to get married, April. I wasn't kidding when I said I was all in. I want to do this right. For you and for the... baby." He gulps at the word and even she has to admit it sounds terrifying out loud. A baby. A human being. She proved incapable for taking care of her own adult self, and now she was partially responsible for the life of another human being, "I want him, or her, to have a family, and I think it'll be easier for you to tell your parents if you're married, and I mean, I...." 

He looks away from her all of a sudden, and she's a little confused why he stopped  mid-sentence. She groans internally. He was doing this for the baby and, sweetly enough, for her. But she didn't want him to marry her because it was his responsibility to. Was it so wrong to want to be married for love? 

"We can do this, April. Okay? I know it's scary, but.... we can do this." He smiles at her, and she nods at him, hoping his slight uproar of confidence rubs off on her. 

"Come on," He says, getting up and holding his arm out to her. She takes it, and he pulls her to her feet, "I am going to go book an OB appointment, and you are going to go get your stuff. We'll drop by your apartment to get some clothes, and go to my place. Okay? We can get some dinner-" 

"And talk?" 

He stares at her pointedly for a second, probably wondering if she'd blow a nerve before she makes it to the changing rooms. 

"Yes, we can talk." 

She nods again, and goes to walk off, when he stops her and pulls her into him. She settles against his chest, and holds him as tight as she possibly can, making sure not to cut his airway. It wouldn't do well to murder him from her anxiety. 

"We'll be fine, April. I know you don't believe that right now, but trust me, okay? We'll be fine." 

She mutters acquiescence into his jacket, and loosens her hold on him. They'll be fine. They were going to be fine. All three of them, will be fine. April wondered if she said the word 'fine' out loud enough times, she'll actually start to feel it. 

He leads her into the apartment and closes the door behind her. She's been here yesterday, but somehow the whole place feels more different, more permanent. This was her home now. They'll eventually sell her apartment, because compared to Jackson's God knows how much rent he pays for the view alone Condo, hers is like a rabbit hole. She didn't mind the switch too much though. His place was nice, impeccably designed, and the only thing it lacked were throw pillows. Well, throw pillows and art that wasn't a big brown shoe. She never understood that painting. Maybe it held a deeper meaning, who knows? 

She carelessly drops her jacket and overnight bag on the sofa, and although she's usually neurotic about stuff like that, today her mind was too preoccupied to care. 

"What do you want me to make for dinner?" Jackson asks, walking behind the island of the kitchen. 

"You're cooking?" She sounds suspicious, and with good reason. The last time Jackson had attempted to cook, she and Alex had ended up with food poisoning. 

"I've gotten better, I swear!" He laughs, possibly recalling the unfortunate incident. 

"Mm, let's just order pizza, you know, considering..." She lets her sentence drift off, and stares down at her stomach. She was trying to save their child at least 9 months from their daddy's cooking. 

"Good point." He admits, and quickly puts back the ingredients to a mac and cheese he was trying to use cream cheese to make. 

He begrudgingly lists her order of a mushroom pizza, which he always vetoes on ordering because 'the taste still lingers even if you take it off'. 

"So, can we talk now?" 

He nods, and walks up to her, placing a glass of water in front of her with a slice of lemon cut up, "You need to stay hydrated. I read during medical college that-" 

"Nope, you are not helicopter parenting me." She says, shaking her head, although she's begun to sip the water. 

"I don't think that's what that term means, but fine, I promise not to be overly protective, but I will be a little bit, all up in your space, because.... I don't know, you're..." He shrugs, and doesn't complete the sentence, and she's tired of him doing that. 

"Okay, so, first thing's first, we need to tell our parents." Her voice is shaky when she says this, because it's the last thing she wants to do. 

He scratches his neck, and furrows his brow, "Do we have to?" 

"Jackson, if your mother finds out about our... baby, when she comes to the hospital, she might have to stick around longer to reattach your pe-" 

"Okay! Telling my mother, as soon as possible." He says, holding his hands up, waving a white flag. 

"I'll tell mine as well... soon." She chews diligently on her bottom lip, and doesn't stop until Jackson pulls it away from her teeth because she could draw blood. 

"They're going to freak out about the whole baby out of wedlock thing, huh?" 

"Yeah," She admits, because her parents are very very conservative and very very Christian.

"How strong is the whole policy in the Bible about not killing someone?" He teases her, but she can tell he actually wants to make sure there's no way Jo Kepner would walk outside the house with his shotgun he keeps locked up in the shed to scare away wild boars, and walk determinedly towards Jackson.  

"Sixth commandment." 

"Oh thank God." 

She laughs at that, and he joins her, and although it's careful, and sounds slightly forced, it releases some of the obvious tension. 

"Are we going to live here?" 

"For now." 

She widens her eyes, but doesn't ask anything more in regards to that. For now meant plans to move, to a bigger house perhaps? Why would you need a bigger house unless you were planning on expanding your family? Maybe she should worry about the one baby she's having now, before theorizing about more. 

"Is there space?" 

"I'll just pull down the man cave thing I have going on, and put up a nursery." 

"No, Jackson, that's your space, I'll feel terrible." "April, please stop acting like you and our child is a burden to me. You're not. Neither of you are. I want to do this. I want to raise this baby, with you. So, please, just no more of making me sound like this guy who just happened to take you two on out of sympathy. I'm his dad." 

She smiles at him, and is mildly more comforted by his words. 

"Or hers." She says, grinning at him. 

"Or hers." He agrees. 

There's a beat, and she comes to realize that this baby is going to change their lives forever. 

"April?" 

"Hm?"

"Can we name the baby Jackson Jr?" 

She spits out her water, and stares at him. He's not serious. Is he? 

"No we can't." 

"Why not?" 

She runs a hand over her face and groans at his very serious name consideration. 

"Because... it's a bad name. Nobody wants to be junior. Junior is a lazy name."

He rolls his eyes, and crosses his arms in front of his body, "It’s a great name." 

She ignores him, "Plus, what do we name the baby if it's a girl?" 

"April Jr" 

"Jackson!" 

They laugh, and for the first time that night, it doesn't feel forced. 

  "Um, I have the guest room ready for you if you want to go get some sleep." 

She comes out of the bathroom, fresh from the bath he'd run her. April had always known Jackson was very caring, it had been in his nature even when they were just friends. It made her heart flutter, as disturbing of an image as that was, and left a pit in her stomach that kept reminding her something she didn't want to think about right now. She really really liked him. A lot. 

"Thank you." She smiles, and makes her towards the bedroom to get changed. She closes the door behind him, and is slightly confused why he doesn't seem to be making any efforts of moving.  

April lets her towel drop, and for a second catches her reflection on the closet mirror. Her body looks exactly the same as it did yesterday. She was probably only a month or 2 pregnant, so there were obviously no visible signs of a pregnancy. She runs her fingers carefully down the skin of her stomach, smiling at the possibility of a baby bump yet to come. She was scared still, nothing about the future was clear to April since her boards, and that was hard for someone who had spent planning every minute of their lives. She felt like she did when, during their residency, Jackson had  taken her to a theme park with the sole intent of getting rid of his fear of roller coasters, and decided that they best way to do it was to go on the tallest and fastest one. It was exciting to finally be sitting on a rollercoaster this thrilling, but you wished you would've taken it one step at a time, instead of plunge head first into the scariest ride of your life.  

She wonders if she should say anything to the baby. She's sat down countless times and talked to her sister's bellies addressing her nieces and nephews.

"I know it feels like mommy isn't acknowledging you, but I promise I am. I know you're there. I'm just really scared because I didn't plan to have you so soon, but I really am happy you're here. Me, and Jack- your daddy. Both of us." 

She smiles down at the little child she's carrying, already feeling an immense sense of love towards this little human. 

"Um, April." 

"Yes?" 

She quickly finds a silk nightgown she packed, and blushes deeply when she realizes that in her hurry, she had picked the one Jackson had gifted her not so long ago. She puts it on, and it falls just above below her thigh. 

"Do you... um, you know you don't have to sleep in here, right?" 

"Um, what?" 

She walks up to the door, and opens it, looking questioningly at Jackson who seems to not have moved an inch since she closed the door on him. 

He stares at her for a moment, letting his eyes roam over her. April blushes as if on cue, and tugs at the dress, hoping to make it a little longer. She knew, tetchily, what it meant whenever he looked at her like that. In any other circumstance, she'd probably be half way there by now, but tonight she wasn't in the mood. Okay, that was a lie. With him, she was always in the mood, but she didn't think she ought to be, considering how tiring the whole day was.   

"Jackson, you were saying?" 

"Hm? Oh yeah, sorry, I just-" He says, shaking his head and pointing towards her, before probably realizing he can't exactly tell her he was distracted by her. Not that she would've mind, "Um, I don't think you'd want to be alone tonight. I mean, heck, I don't want to be alone tonight. So, if you want to... you can just... sleep in my room?" 

She wants to almost laugh at how unsure he sounds at her accepting the request. Before today, she'd be in his bed without him even having to ask, but now it felt different, even though she more or so had more of a right to share a bed with him than ever before. They were after all, in a way, engaged. And they would be married soon enough. This whole process of doing everything backwards was exhausting, April thought. It was confusing and she wished they could talk about the two of them in addition to talking about the baby. There were still so many doubts, and she was close to going mad any minute if they didn't get resolved. 

But he looked tired and so was she, so maybe she'd have to leave it for tomorrow. 

"Okay." 

She smiles and he instantly lightens up, a lopsided grin she loves appearing on his face. She walks to his bedroom, and settles under the covers, and watches him do the same. 

They lay there awkwardly for some time wondering how intimate they ought to be before Jackson comes up to her, and pulls her against his chest, dropping a kiss to her forehead. She snuggles into him, and for a second all the doubts etch away from her mind, because nothing about this feels wrong. It all feels so perfectly right. 

"Goodnight, April." 

"Goodnight, Jackson."  

 Jackson Avery couldn't find any sleep, no matter how hard he tried. He kept tossing and turning around, trying his hardest not to disturb April, who'd causally wandered to the other side of the bed. He wanted more than anything to turn around and hug her to him, but she needed her rest, and his restlessness would just keep her up as well. 

He just couldn't believe it! A baby! They were having a baby! He was going to someone's father! The thought was slightly nauseating, and he started to feel the room begin to spin. There was a human being inside April's body, that would in 9 months, rely on him to take care of them, for the rest of their lives. It was the most frightening thing he'd ever experienced, and he had operated on a friend while a gun was pointed at him. 

He turns his head to the right and sees April blissfully sleeping, although he could tell she was anything but blissful. She was stressed, and nervous, and scared and he knew that a complete breakdown was due any second now. He was just trying to delay it as much as possible by appearing as calm as he possibly could. How does she manage to look so beautiful even when she's doing something so stupidly mundane as sleeping. He'd recently taken to watching her. Not creepily or anything, but just whenever she was in the room or in his vicinity, his eyes would always follow her, and he'd feel this constant loud thumping in his heart, whenever she caught him watching. He'd never felt such an adrenaline rush before in his life, it was maddening. 

She grunted slowly, turning her body to face him. He smiled at her, softly placing a stray curl, that was clearly annoying her in her sleep, since she twitched her nose at the feel of it, behind her ear.

He never thought he'd be a father. He was out of his mind scared about this. He'd never grown up with a good example of a dad, and so he'd always assumed that maybe kids weren't for him. Looks like life had other plans. He was going to mess up. There was no way he'd be able to dive into this head first and hope for the best. There was no way he'd be good at this. He sighs, tossing on his side once more. He wasn't ever sure he'd be married. His ex girlfriends hadn't come anywhere to the point where he'd even had to think about getting married. He'd probably make a shitty husband, who knew. If one were to go with the performances of Avery men in marriages, they didn't have the best track record. Divorce, cheating, alcoholism or legacy. It was a mess. 

He woke up that day, intending to kick ass at some surgeries and take his... best friend home and make love to her. He definitely couldn't have predicted that he'd go home with his... fiancé? best friend who was carrying his child. The thing that baffled him the most, however, wasn't having to marry April, or having a baby that scared him, necessarily. Those two things, surprisingly, made him slightly giddy. It was the fear of failing the now two most important people in his life that was eating at him. 

He sighed, knowing that the endless questions weren't going to solve anything. He looked at the clock reading 1 am, and closed his eyes. They had a long day ahead of them tomorrow, and the least he could so was try to get some sleep. 

He’d notice her missing, when he’d woken up at around 3.30 am, and instinctively reached out for her, just to feel a blank space next to him. He’d taken a second to calmly walk around the house, yelling her name, progressively more panicky with each room that was empty. April had left the house. It was a little difficult for him to remain calm at this point, so he chose to the exact opposite; lose his shit. Then, however, having realized that there might be a perfectly good explanation for this, set about looking for her. He tried calling her, but the loud blaring of the ever inspirational Doubt by Mary J Blige indicated that she’d left it at home. She could have been paged, but a quick call to the hospital dispelled this theory. The other two options were that she’d woken up, and for whatever reason, gone to her apartment or, and he really hoped she hadn’t done this, gone to visit Charles’s and Reed’s graves. Well, if that was the case, he’d use the ‘I walked through a graveyard at 3.30 in the morning for you’ card for years.

He runs down, and gets into his car, trying his best not to speed. He stops at a traffic light, one road down from his apartment complex, when a figure exiting a 24 hour department store catches his attention. If he hadn’t known April for as long as he had, he might have driven by, and found her at neither spot he had in mind, called the cops and made tomorrow’s headlines. Thankfully, he could spot his best friend from a mile away.

He quickly parks in the entirely abandoned car park, and walks determinedly towards April, getting angrier and angrier with each step.

“April!”

She stills, and turns around, looking downright shocked to see him.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, when he reaches her

“What am I doing here? What the hell are you doing here? April, it’s 3.30 in the morning! I woke up and found you gone, and panicked!” He yells at her, and she looks like a deer caught in headlight.

“I-I just wanted some ice cream.”

“At 3.30 in the morning?! April, you can’t just walk down the street at this time. It’s dangerous. You’re a pregnant woman, what the hell were you thinking?!” He is outraged, and frankly frightened.

“I just wanted to make a milkshake.” She shrugs. The nerve!

“Then you wake me up! If you’re having cravings, you wake me up so I can buy you a milkshake. You don’t walk outside in the streets at this time, wearing a nightgown, and a jacket!” She hasn’t even changed. It was a surprise he found her completely unharmed.

“Why are you yelling?! I just wanted a milkshake, and you’re here just yelling at me.”

Cue the crying.

He sighs, knowing her ultra-sensitive pregnancy hormones, wasn’t holding her too well during this conversation.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Here, come here.” He holds his hands out to her, and she wraps herself around him, crying into his chest. “I was just worried, okay? You can’t do this, it’s dangerous, April. I don’t want either of you getting hurt. It’s scary.”

“How are you so okay with this?” She mumbles into his chest.

“What, the baby?” Obviously, not her late night excursions, since he’d made his stance on that really clear.

“Yes. How are you not scared? I love this baby, and y- um, I am happy, I really am, but I feel like we’re in over our heads, Jackson! We don’t even know what we are, and now we’re getting married and bringing a baby into this. It’s just-”

Cue the crying, once again.

He had been expecting this meltdown, so he’d been prepared. He just hadn’t expected it to happen in the middle of an empty parking lot, at this time of the morning.

“I am scared, April. Believe me, I am. I don’t know the first thing about being a dad… or a husband. I am so scared that I’m going to let you two down.” He admits.

“No, you won’t. I know you won’t. You’re going to be great.” She says, determinedly.

“Look, I know this is too much, too soon. I get that. But we’re going to be okay. We just have to… fake it ‘till we make it! Act like we got this, until we actually do.”

She studies him for a second, and nods.

“I wouldn’t want to do with anyone else, April.”

He’d definitely take care of the child if they decided to keep the baby, and help to co-parent, but he’d only marry a woman he knew he could love.

“Yeah?” Her eyes lit up, almost as if he’d said the exact thing she’d been wanting to hear all along.

“Remember those feelings I told you about?”

She nods, “I have them too.”

He grins, wide, “Good.”

“I am so glad it was you.”

She stands on her tip toes, and kisses him, holding his face between her hands. When she pulls away, he leans back in, and pecks her lips once more.

“Come on. Let’s get you two home, and I’ll make you a milkshake.” He puts his hand on her stomach, although there’s no bump still visible, but there’s something very grounding about the fact that his baby was in there. The baby, he and April made together.

“Hm, maybe I’ll make the milkshake and you can help me drink it.”

“Hey!”

She giggles, and takes his hand in hers as they walk towards the car. If this was what he had to expect when they were expecting, he was looking forward to it.  

THANK YOU FOR READING!