#but those. well. everything is temporary all things end. i lost all my photos in 2017. i lived. besides most r still on my phone

[pussymasterdooku]

my beloved imac from 2014 with a cracked screen that i conned my dad into giving me so i had a computer on which to do stupid freelancer shit for him but use primarily for personal use (file storage, use appletv to play streaming sites on our actual tv, play sims) seems to be……engaging in behaviors that for lack of a better way to put this best resemble when my elderly cat started having seizures after a hard summer of kidney problems and we had to be like. oh it’s the end the end? obviously less emotional than that but. you know. she’s had a long good life and maybe it’s her time. that’s okay. all things end. anyway. all this to say we are trying to coax her into not just waking up again but pretty please just giving me two files that are the backbone of the recurring stupid freelancer shit i do every month. please baby i have hand problems i can’t build those templates again. please.………

[aki-draws-things]

Ron makes fun of him, but he's allowed, they flew together quite some times by then, he can have a little fun here and there. He knows he has a son, hell, ron always carried pics of baby jake as he grew up, he's very very proud of his boy! But somehow he missed the memo on the "Former navy" part, until they had a very bad emergency landing, the kind that his copilot seriously started praying because "no, captain, no way we land unscathed oh my god I never thought I would end up like that we're gonna crash there's something on fire and..."

"We're not in a flat spin, everything is... well, as good as it can be with one engine left okay?"

"A flat-- Captain! that's not a time for jokes crashing! we're about to crash and have god knows how many people there and--"

"Might be a bit bumpy, I give you that. I know, I'm rusty on this kind of landings but we're gonna be fine."

They're actually fine, his copilot is ghostly white.

"You were way too calm. we were about to die and you were like oh, it's a stroll in the park kind of calm."

"5 MIGs on our tail and I lived to see the next day, marry my husbands and get a kid. I'd say losing an engine heaven knows where and how was a walk in the park, all considered."

"5 WHAT I BEG YOUR FUCKING PARDON?!!?"

Tom calls him not long after the landing, no way something like that escapes him even if it's commercial flight. he checks on ron's flights, okay?

"Why did you lost an engine" "Yeah, about that great question, I'd like to know that too, you know? look, can you the Chrisy I'm gonna be late for dinner with the boys? we're currently stuck in the middle of nowhere waiting for someone to pick those poor souls and us and get us home. everyone's fine, by the way, a bit shaken but--"

"Captain Roland Kerner I thought flying commercial would be safer!"

"COMPACFLT Thomas Kazansky, so did I!"

His usual copilot retired soon after him, yeah, where else would he find someone like him? besides, he was going to retire soon anyway, he just anticipated it of a little.

The last flight is very emotional. He didn't expect all of them, his family and Javy? sure, but the rest of them?

"So, this time we're just going home, mh? For good?"

He shows up around Tom during meetings and things, but as fully civilian, just like Chris. Most people don't know he was a former pilot and even more a former RIO. Cyclone definitely didn't know, he was shocked a civilian knew so many things about jets, and even more about some of their missions and protocols.

Javy is extremely anxious when it's not his Super Hornet or Ron flying. Jake had to tell him, and even have papa confirm it on videocall to convince Javy to get on the plane without a panic attack.

He once tried to be a temporary WSO, with jake as his pilot, He trusts and loves Jake to death, but he's really that much anxious, he couldn't do it.

Jake quite unconsciously kept saying like "Hello. have a nice flight" to whoever was walking past him when they were seated.

"Wanted to become a flight attendant before enlisting?"

"Nah... but I've been put on a plane at 6 months old, I learned things. even had my little uniform."

Roo definitely didn't blush at how cute some photos of baby jake were.

MORE FLUFF!! (Oh, no worries, I'll return asking for angst soon too ❤️)

Rick said in an interview that in his mind, Ron switched to commercial flights. Well, Jake had the habit to try to fly with him, everytime he knows he's the pilot he just relax a little more. When he was really young one of the first time he jumped on the seat like "Papa?? Papa papa papaaaaa!!!" Very excited until Chris and/or tom took him to the cockpit after landing. (Baby Jake sitting in the pilot seat while Ron is copilot is Chris and Tom's favorite photo honestly . No wonder the kid chose to fly!)

Daggers don't know about that, cause he just goes by Ron, they don't immediately make the connection with slider. And then Jake saves mav and Roos. And he's like "this is ypu captain speaking". Tom does hear it, he just can't help the laughter, cause damn, that kid sounds like his papa so damn much, to the point he just borrowed what he says after every flight. He.cant wait to see Ron and tell him about that!!

I'm just so soooooft help!!

What alien are you and what have you done with the Phanie that likes to hurt them??? But I absolutely love this oh my god

I mixed this up and wrote baby Jake pov + older Jake

Jake is excited, his papa is flying! Fly fly fly.

Papa’s job is very exciting. Very important. Like tata’s. Or dada’s.

He loves to fly. Tata or Dada will hold him even though his ears hurt when they’re so high up. He loves watching out the windows.

The plane makes a thump sound showing it’s landed. “You wanna take Jakey or should I?”

Dada said Jakey! That’s Jake! “Dada! Papa! Papa! Papa!” Tata kisses his head and then tells dada to find papa.

Papa got lost?

Jake is in the air. They knock on a little door and then suddenly papa is there. Jake throws himself at papa. It’s been so long since he’s seen papa. He keeps throwing himself until papa takes him. Jake babbles that he loves papa and he colored lots and that he has a new favorite tv show.

“Talkative little thing we have huh?” Jake pats papa’s head. “Love.” Papa lights up. He kisses Jake’s head again. “Love you too Chickie.” Jake tucks his head under papa’s chin. Everything is right in the world.

——

Jake couldn’t believe he made it out of the mission. He drops out of his plane and races to his dads. So happy they all got to be there for him.

He slams into them so hard that the three of them stumble into them.

Ron kisses his head and ruffles his hair. “This is your savior speaking? Really Jakey?”

Jake blushes a little. “I thought it fit.” Chris let’s put a laugh, he pulls Jake closer. “You’re not wrong it did. It was insane Jake.” Tom nods. He kisses Jake’s head “stay safe kiddo.” Jake nods along to all of their advice.

Rooster slides up to them. “Sirs.” Jake smacks Bradley’s chest, “oh please they’re harmless.” Bradley stares at Jake. “That’s literally the compacflt and his wingman.” Jake shrugs “he also likes great British bake off. And papa likes sudokus”

Bradley stares at the three men. What the fuck?

“Jake?”

Jake only shrugs. He has no desire to be helpful. “We’re your captains speaking.” “He’s a pilot now oh my god. No wonder Mav couldn’t find anything past 2015” Ron laughs. “Yeah you’re not going to find much.” His dads float away to join in on more embarrassing conversations.

Bradley can only nod. He gently takes Jake’s hand. “I want to date you. Please.” Jake stares for a second. “You fucking with me Bradshaw”?”

Bradley laughs “only fuck I want is yours.”

Jake snorts. “Alright fly boy. Be good.”

He sees wolf and Holly of to the side. Never know when the other is lerking around things like this. They both give Jake a thumbs up though so he’s taking that as a good sign.

Guess time will tell.

[only-johnny-deppp]

“Whatever I’ve gone through, I’ve gone through. But, ultimately, this particular arena of my life has been so absurd...” 

 Johnny Depp’s NEW INTERVIEW!

Last saturday, August 14, The UK Times, released a new interview with Johnny for the Sunday Times section. It was realized sometime earlier this month, in London, probably on the same day he and Andrew Levitas were recording for the Q&A for the “Minamata” release in UK. This is Johnny’s first interview since the UK trials in London last year, and released three years after Johnny’s major interview for the British GQ Magazine. Here Johnny and Andrew Levitas speaks about “Minamata”, his future as actor and a thing or two about his personal life, although he cannot talk about the court case.

For those who couldn’t read yet, here is the FULL interview:  Enjoy.

***

“I’M BEING BOYCOTTED BY HOLLYWOOD”

Johnny Depp has a new film out this week. In the opening scene his character, the real-life photographer W Eugene Smith, says, “I’m done. I’m tired. My body is older than I am. I’m always in goddam pain. I can’t trust my f***ing dick any more. Constantly in a foul mood. Even the drugs bore me.”

I ask Depp if Smith’s despair resonated with him. Depp stops. Rocks back and forth. “That’s interesting,” he replies with painful hesitation.

“I didn’t approach playing Smith in that way… Although you bring your toolbox to work and use what is available. Having experienced...” He stops again. Depp takes any questions that might refer to his calamitous libel case last year slowly, in a mumbly, croaking drawl. “A surreal five years…”

In the film Smith needs to revive his reputation. In real life Depp’s task is even more daunting. Thanks to the judgment, everyone can call him a “wife-beater”. Now he must convince a Hollywood still convulsed by #MeToo that he’s not toxic — and that any attempt to rebuild his career is a risk worth taking. This is Depp’s first interview since the case.

We are speaking over Zoom, Depp in his London home, in front of a gold-framed painting. The 58-year-old is wearing a lot of clothes. Earrings. Floppy hat. Sunglasses. Bandana. Scarf. Checked shirt over a T-shirt with an indiscernible slogan. If you saw him on the Tube*, you might think he was off to work at the London Dungeon*, to play most of the characters.

PS. For those who are not familiar with British words: * Tube = British slang for London Underground, the subway trains. * London Dungeon = is a walk-through experience that recreates scenes from London's scary history in a mixture of live actors, special effects and rides.

Depp resumes, talking in broken sentences about the new film, Minamata, in which Smith, via Life magazine, exposes the brutal mercury poisoning of Japanese villagers in the early 1970s.

“How do we do this?” he asks rhetorically, meaning how to speak about the elephant in the Zoom. “Well, there’s no way one can’t recognise the absurdity of the mathematics.” He grins. “If you know what I mean?” No. “Absurdity of media mathematics.” He talks in riddles. “Whatever I’ve gone through, I’ve gone through. But, ultimately, this particular arena of my life has been so absurd...”

He trails off again. He is holding a big brown roll-up of some sort. “What the people in Minamata dealt with? People who suffered with Covid? A lot of people lost lives. Children sick...Ill. Ultimately, in answer to your question? Yeah, you use what you’ve got. But what I’ve been through? That’s like getting scratched by a kitten. Comparatively.”

Last July, I went to the High Court in London to watch Depp on another screen — a video from the socially distanced court where the Hollywood star was losing a libel action against The Sun after it called him a “wife-beater”. It was the grottiest showbiz trial of the century. There were photos of the actor passed out in a foetal slump, socks on show. One lengthy exchange involved faeces. Another urination, inside or outside a house, after a violent night with his ex-wife Amber Heard.

This had all been going on for a while. In 2016 Heard applied for a temporary restraining order against him. The couple had long endured a narcotic, booze-filled, childish relationship, but that does not matter — 12 incidents levelled against Depp were proved, said the judge, and abuse is abuse, regardless of how badly they both behaved. Depp wanted to appeal, but the court said no. Next April in the US he has a $50 million defamation case against Heard relating to an opinion piece she wrote about being the victim of domestic abuse. It may be his last roll of the dice.

In the 1990s Depp was a sensitive heart-throb. Cooler than DiCaprio, edgier than Pitt. In this past year he has been stripped of his status and dignity. On day three of the trial Sasha Wass QC, representing The Sun, asked Depp about daubing a penis on a painting. He could not remember. “That would be quite a big thing, painting a penis on a picture?”  Wass asked. “Quite a big thing?” Depp asked.

It was a well-delivered line, but Depp was on show. Performing. Now he is more timid, less lucid. His people say he cannot talk about the court case given the looming US trial, yet it hangs over everything. The director of Minamata, Andrew Levitas, is also on our call — as a pub trivia aside, Levitas is married to the Welsh singer Katherine Jenkins.

The two men clearly get on. “With regards to journalism, it was important for us to put across in the film the power of truth,” Levitas says. Depp nods. “The responsibility of journalists to look after citizens of the world. [Our film] coincided with the moment important publications had to put Raquel Welch on a cover to get enough eyeballs to sell enough ads in order to put something meaningful inside. A result of that is clickbait — it’s destroying the purpose of journalism,” Levitas continues.

“You said it beautifully,” says Depp, one of the world’s most pinned-up men, who built a career on magazine covers. “I couldn’t say it better than that.”

Last month Levitas wrote to MGM, which bought Minamata for the US market but decided not to release it. He accused MGM of being concerned that “the personal issues of an actor in the film could reflect negatively upon them”. Then the letter got really strong. Levitas accused MGM of failing in its “moral obligation” to release the film and said it needed to explain to the victims “why you think an actor’s personal life is more important than their dead children”. He then attached Smith’s photos of ghastly deformities that shocked the world 50 years ago.

“It’s important that the movie gets seen and supported,” Levitas says. “And if I get an inkling it’s not going to be, it’s my responsibility to say so. Where it goes from there? I don’t know. But we have responsibility to these victims . . .”

You can see why he’s passionate. The film is good. MGM bought the film because it is good. Depp is good too. He disappears into the role, far from his more recent pantomime parts. It’s being released worldwide, just not in the actor’s homeland.

Depp, who also produced the film, interrupts. “We looked these people in the eyeballs and promised we would not be exploitative. That the film would be respectful. I believe that we’ve kept our end of the bargain, but those who came in later should also maintain theirs.”

“Some films touch people,” he adds. “And this affects those in Minamata and people who experience similar things. And for anything…” He pauses, as he does. “For Hollywood’s boycott of, erm, me? One man, one actor in an unpleasant and messy situation, over the last number of years?” He trails off. “But, you know, I’m moving towards where I need to go to make all that…” Again, he trails off. “To bring things to light.”

The fact, as I think Depp knows, is that for his career, the court that matters is not one of law, but public opinion. On social media, where a lot of minds are made up, Depp’s good reputation will always outweigh the bad, thanks to his frequently blinkered fans.

Outside the High Court, as Heard arrived, I saw Natasha, 30, yell: “Get hit by a truck, Amber!” She is extreme, but the persistent way his fans demand that others think their idol is a saint shows a career revival will happen. After all, most filmgoers do not follow his private life at all. To them, he is Jack Sparrow, Edward Scissorhands. To them, he is a star — and a star can take an awful lot of heat before it burns out.

“They have always been my employers,” Depp says of his fans. “They are all our employers. They buy tickets, merchandise. They made all of those studios rich, but they forgot that a long time ago. I certainly haven’t. I’m proud of these people, because of what they are trying to say, which is the truth. The truth they’re trying to get out since it doesn’t in more mainstream publications. It’s a long road that sometimes gets clunky. Sometimes just plain stupid. But they stayed on the ride with me and it’s for them I will fight. Always, to the end. Whatever it may be.”

Depp will talk like this for ever — about his “truth”. Minamata is the last film Depp has listed on the industry site IMDb, where actors usually have half a dozen in development. So, yes, fans of the actor can see Depp in a new role now — it is a return, but is it a relaunch? The film was finished in 2019, way before last year’s court case. Is that it? His last film? He thinks and looks off to his bookshelves, at biographies of Betjeman and Olivier.

“Er...no,” he says, eventually. “No. No. Actually, I look forward to the next few films I make to be my first films, in a way. Because once you’ve...Well, look. The way they wrote it in The Wizard of Oz is that when you see behind the curtain, it’s not him. When you see behind the curtain, there’s a whole lot of motherf***ers squished into one spot. All praying that you don’t look at them. And notice them.”

I would ask him to explain, but I am not sure he is an explainer. Watch this space, I guess, but he is already taking a first step back. After we speak, it is announced Depp is getting the coveted Donostia award at the San Sebastian Film Festival next month. Some people are just too famous to fail.

~ Interview by Jonathan Dean, in London, for The Times UK (released on August 14, 2021)

[sidespromptblog]

What to Do?: Chapter 8

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Nine, Ten

Warnings: Patton Angst, and food mention. 

Summary: Logan realizing that his first mistake was seeing the other sides as anything other than coworkers. They weren't a family. They didn't even like each other. How had he not realized sooner?

Word Count: 1,657

Patton sat hunched on the floor in front of the oven, watching as the cookies he was baking slowly rose as they were cooked right before his eyes. Behind him another bowl of cookie batter sat, waiting for the very same thing. And in the fridge there were already cookies cooling down, and still his fingers itched to do something.. anything really that would help keep his mind away from what had made it most sad to begin with.  He didn’t want to think about this, any of it really. He just wanted to stay focused on the things that made him happy, and the things that made the others happy too. 

If Logan saw him like this he’s-

No. 

Patton stubbornly shook his head, as his heart plummeted at the thought of Logan and just what Logan would think if he saw him like this… if he saw him pushing down his negative emotions in favor of the good ones. They had already talked about this, they had already come to the conclusion that Patton still didn’t want to face even right now. It was better this way, he had told himself. Someone had to be happy around here, even if he was just pretending. He’d cried enough for all of them, and now it was time to get over that and move onto being happy again. It was better than seeing Roman slowly sink into self-despair like he had been when he had accepted Janus, and it was better than seeing Virgil slowly grow more and more anxious over time with no way to stop it. He had to do this, for all of them. 

Even if Logan…

Patton felt his eyes mist over in a second, before he stubbornly rubbed his sleeve over his eyes. 

“I’m fine,” He listlessly muttered to himself, keeping his eyes firmly fixed onto the cookies. “I’m fine…” 

“Tsk.” 

Patton flinched with his whole body, as his head snapped around in an instant to look at the side who was standing there at the entrance of the kitchen. His mouth twisted into a tiny half smile, that he honestly didn’t even feel like giving. But be that as it may, it still felt just the slightest bit nice to see the side in front of him, like he wasn’t totally alone and surrounded by sad people who had no idea what to do.

Janus smiled down at Patton, the kind of smile that made the scales on the side of his face shimmer in the warm lighting of the kitchen. “I thought lying was my thing,” The dishonest side began, as he crouched down to Patton’s level, so that he could look at him just a little bit closer. “Right?” He asked, reaching forward slowly to dust a chunk of flower from Patton’s cheek. 

The soft scrap of the glove against his cheek made Patton sigh for a short second, it had been too long since he’d had any kind of bodily contact. There had been no hugs, no hand holding, and no… late night movie sessions where they all piled on top of one another. So just this tiny hint of contact made him want to melt into Janus, and never let the other side leave.

“Yeah.. yeah it usually is.” He finally whispered, sadness clinging to every pore of his body. “But right now I think it’s necessary…” 

I need it… 

The words were left unspoken, and yet Janus heard it all the same as he seated himself more comfortably on the cold floor. The oven let off a wave of warmth that he was secretly very thankful for, and with little opposition Janus lifted the edge of his caplet letting it drape over Patton’s shoulders as well. For a moment he could only watch as the moral side sank gratefully into it, his eyes closing as his cheek squished against Janus’ shoulder. Janus didn’t say it, but… 

Patton looked exhausted. 

To the point where he was sure that the other side would all too easily fall asleep right here if Janus didn’t move or say anything, and god knew he was not the most comfortable person to fall asleep on. But despite how the words he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue, Janus didn’t say a word, instead choosing to wrap his arm around Patton letting the other side use his lap as a pillow as he sprawled himself out on the floor. Shrugging off his caplet, and with the warmth of the oven on his back it was all too easy for him to cover the moral side with it, letting him have this one solitary comfort.  

If only for a little while, at least. 

“Janus?” Patton asked softly, startling the other side from his almost nap that he had been nodding off into. “Do you think Logan is lying to himself? When.. when he’s acting this way?” 

For a moment Janus was stumped on just how to answer the moral side, he knew that perhaps it would make Patton feel better if he lied to him, but for how long? If he thought that this whole thing was temporary then.. then all he would be doing was giving him empty hope that perhaps things would end up changing. That would be more hurtful in the long run, and… and Patton would eventually find out that he had lied, and would be hurt even more by Janus’ own actions. He wouldn’t trust him if he lied about this, because he cared about Logan, even if Logan was trying to act like he didn’t care about them. 

He sighed, and felt Patton’s head twitch on his lap. “I think…” He slowly began, trying to phrase it right, “That Logan truly believes that this is the best path for him, so he’s determined to see it through. But… he’s also certain that should it come down to it, none of you would listen to him if he stopped. He thinks in a certain way that..  that you all hate him.”

Patton moved to jerk his entire body up, a denial on his lips. Just to stop as soon as Janus gently guided him back down. 

“I’m not done,” The dishonest side said firmly but gently, “He still cares about all of you I think, but he’s not going to give himself the chance to ever come back. He’s burning down as many bridges as he can, and as quickly as he can before he changes his mind and wants to repair things with all of you.” Janus can feel another sigh building up inside of him. “But I also think that all of you are in denial as well…” At Patton’s curious and worried look Janus slowly went on, trying to be as gentle as possible about it. “About how you’ve all treated him, and I think that you’re all lying to yourselves about the part that you’ve played in this coming to be.” 

Patton is quick to open his mouth to disagree, he wants to disagree with almost everything that Janus has said about them doing anything to bring this on. As far as he was aware he had always treated Logan the best that he possibly could, and while it was true that he had floundered sometimes and gotten lost in himself… he’d done his best. 

Hadn’t he? 

Looking at the family pictures he could see hanging on the walls from where he was sitting, his stomach plummeted in an instant as guilt quickly replaced the sadness he had been feeling mere moments ago. Logan was there in each and everyone of the photos, but he was in the back, where Roman, Virgil, and even Patton had taken up most of the frame. It had left Logan looking almost out of place in the pictures, as if.. As if he didn’t belong there with any of them. Looking at those pictures now, where he had once felt nothing but happiness and pride towards his family, he now felt as if he had failed Logan in every single one of them in every single kind of way that a friend shouldn’t have. 

After everything that had happened… 

They had been anything but a family to Logan, and Logan deserved to distance himself from that kind of “love”. 

Because he deserves better than that. 

“Janus?” Patton asked for a moment, looking over to the side in question to see that he was fully paying attention to Patton. “What should we do?” 

That was the kicker wasn’t it? 

What should they do? 

It was clear that Logan was going to be resilient against any of their advances to fix things, as the logical side was determined to think that things would go back to the way they were before if he slipped up even once. And he was only going to double down too, if they did get him to slip up and treat them as they had been in the past, which would only draw things out for longer and make things harder on themselves. So there was very little that they actually could do to actually fix things, surprisingly Logan had made it so that the entire ball game was in his court and they couldn't make a single move to change the tides.   

He would make an excellent chess player, Janus fondly thought to himself. 

“Slowly,” He finally summarized, as the plan mapped itself out in his head. “So slowly that it feels like nothing is changing, you have to play Logan’s game if you want him to even entertain yours. If you want things to go back to normal, this has to be the new normal for a while. Let him slip up, and let him try to come back, and when that happens…” Janus smiled a little, as he looped his arm around Patton. 

“You’ll have Logan, and not Logic.”

[xwing-baby]

Impulse: Aftermath (Javier Peña x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. The worst as happened, your dead. What have you left behind?

Warnings: ANGST! depressive thinking/intrusive thoughts, swearing, discrimination towards addicts, mentions of drug abuse, javi and steve have terrible coping mechanisms.

Word count: 2k (short and sweet)

A/n: So I felt bad about how I left it last chapter, maybe this will heal it? Maybe it will make it worse. Either way, enjoy! 

Part 1 // Part 2 

[1 MONTH AFTER]

 The following weeks after your death was harrowing for everyone involved. Connie was beside herself and flew herself home for a week as she couldn’t stand seeing your empty apartment every day. Without his wife, Steve was falling apart at the seams. He was angrier, drinking more and his relationship with Javier was hanging on threads. Even when Connie returned he was unhinged. Javier was a mess, more than he would openly admit, it was obvious to everyone around him. He tried to find solace in alcohol and women but it didn’t work. Guilt surrounded him like a bad smell that he couldn’t shake. Together, Javi and Steve were reckless and ruthless.

The question of who killed you was still a mystery. The getaway vehicle had been found in Bogata a few days after the shooting, ablaze. Javi and Steve had waited for somebody to claim the killing but no one ever did. Cali and Escobar, even Los Pepes never said a word. Javier had tried to find your CI but they’d disappeared too. 

As with any death of an agent in the field, the DEA intended to investigate your death. Today was the day that Javier was to hear the verdict. He was anxious, he knew they needed help if they were ever going to catch your killer and this could be the final push needed to topple Escobar’s power. 

Alone, Javier drove to the embassy dressed in a nice suit and tie. He was hopeful, almost excited. If this meeting went the way he was expecting you would get the vengeance you deserved and this hell could be over. 

He entered the meeting room confidently but almost immediately stumbled when only one man stood in the room. Ambassador Crosby stood at the top of the large table, he greeted Javier politely when he arrived and offered him a chair opposite. Confused, Javier sat down.

“I’m going to cut the crap with you, Peña. We are not investigating Agent L/n’s death,” The Ambassador said bluntly. Javier’s stomach twisted, “I’ve been talking with everybody that needs to be involved and we all agree. She admitted her drug use to me, her death was entirely so a result of her ‘extracurricular activities’. I see no reason to use any more of the agency's funds on a rookie who went off the rails,” The Ambassador lit a cigarette nonchalantly as if he hadn’t just dealt Javier a nearly fatal blow. Javier had never imagined that to even be a possibility. He was in shock.

“You’re joking,” Javier deadpanned. 

“I understand you’re upset, Peña, I do. She was a sweet girl, and from what I gather from Agent Murphy’s report you two were very close, but I see no reason to investigate further. She wasn’t a qualified agent we hold no loyalty to our usual promises,” 

“She deserves-,” Javier started, rage quickly boiling inside him.

“She doesn’t deserve anything,” He interrupted Javier sharply, “She was an addict. You should count yourself lucky I don’t have you fired. You knew she was breaking her contract and you said nothing,” 

“She was doing her job. She was a great agent and this never should have fucking happened. She deserves everything Camarera got and more!” Javier exclaimed. 

“You’re right it shouldn’t have happened. You were her mentor, you were supposed to be protecting her from exactly that kind of shit. She was never meant to leave your fucking side, what in the hell possessed you to think she could have a CI?” 

“She was a good agent,” Javier repeated, trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

“She was a kid,” The ambassador corrected him. Javier hung his head in defeat, “Get out, expect a call from DC too,” 

As if this waking nightmare you had left behind you could get any worse, now this. It was another blow to Javier's ego that he did not need. Without help from the agency, there would be no way to investigate your death and no way for any substantial closure for Javier or Steve. You would become just another name on the list of unfortunate souls lost to this drug war. They had dismissed you as if you were nobody. They had cleaned their hands of your blood without a second thought. That was not a luxury that Javier had. 

Javier was exhausted. The news felt like the final blow that had finally landed him on his ass. But he knew had one last thing to do before he could sleep, he had to tell Steve the news. Javier let himself into Connie and Steve’s apartment, the two were eating dinner together quietly. Without a word, he sat down at the table, and Connie passed the man a beer, which he took and swallowed down gladly.

“So? What did they say?” Steve asked, his mouth full of food.

“They said they wouldn’t investigate further because of everything that she was doing,” He replied after a moment 

“Shit,” Connie sighed, taking a big sip of wine. Steve looked between his wife and his friend, put his cutlery down and frowned.

“What do you mean everything she was doing?” Steve asked, “She was working with us, she wasn’t doing anything wrong,”

“She was doing coke, a lot of it,” Javier said bluntly, finding no other way to soften what had happened, “Guess she got it from her CI, I don’t know but she tried to fix it with the ambassador before she died and now they won’t investigate,”

“What?” Steve laughed in disbelief. Javier’s frown didn’t break, He turned to his wife expecting her to be just as shocked. She wasn’t at all. She knew, “How come you know about this and I don’t?” Steve exclaimed.

“She showed up on the street after Javi caught her at the embassy and I took care of her, made sure she was okay. She told me everything,” Connie explained.

“At the embassy?” Steve repeated, not believing a word he was hearing. He knew something was up with you but he hadn’t imagined it could be that bad, “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I thought you knew and just didn’t want to talk about it!” Connie exclaimed, “I thought you guys would have taken a bit more care with your teammate!”

“Hey don’t put it back at me!” Javi scowled at the woman.

“That's why you were so mad that day? Because you caught her with cocaine?” Steve asked, his volume increasing with each question, “Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I didn’t think it was any of your business,”

“Any of my- You’re fucking unbelievable Javi,” Steve scoffed, “Been here how long and you still don’t trust me?”

“I trusted her enough to sort it out herself. You would have freaked her out!” Javier said honestly.

“Look at all the good that did, huh? You got her killed! May as well have shot her yourself!” The words hit Javier like a slap in the face. Shocked, Javi couldn’t speak.

“Steve!” Connie exclaimed.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” Steve spat, stepping up to Javi. Javi quickly backed off, glaring at his partner and leaving, slamming the door for good measure.

In the hallway, Steve and Connie’s argument could still be heard. Javier’s anger was stopped by the sight of your door across the hallway. Someone else had moved in already. The door had been repainted, the chipped blue paint replaced with a glossy green, the number had been straightened and the smiley face sticker you put on had been peeled off. The world was moving on. You were just a passing character, never meant to stay long. You would have left eventually even if you hadn’t died. You were never meant to be permanent. Javi hoped the pain you had left him would be just as temporary but it was likely scars would remain.

He couldn’t repaint over memories of you. The scuff marks on his dashboard from your shoes would remain. The chipped mug you had claimed as yours would still sit on his draining board. Shaky polaroid photos he had kept from blurry nights in bars and a cartoon you had drawn of him and Steve on the back of an invoice all sat in the drawer of his nightstand. Those things would last. Part of him wanted to get rid of it all, burn it to remove you entirely from his life and pretend like it was all some horrible, strange dream. But he wouldn’t. You may have been temporary but your impact on him was permanent.

--

The next day Javier kept well away from Steve. He knew he would still be resentful, rightfully so, and he knew him well enough to know to just give him some space. They could get on with things separately until it blew over.

The news that the DEA would not be making a full investigation into your death had spread quickly and calmed tensions around the compound and in the embassy immensely. The Columbians didn’t want more American’s down here if it could be helped, everyone remembered the brutality of Camerana’s investigation and if a repetition of such events could be avoided it was a win for everyone.

Midday came and Javi took a break from hunting through seemingly endless transcriptions of taped conversations to sit outside in the sun. Guilt was piling up again with Steve against him too, he only felt worse. He couldn’t concentrate. Between his thoughts and the constant interruption of people trying to be sympathetic, Javi had had enough. He wanted to be alone.  A few minutes in the sunshine with a cigarette and birdsong would clear his head and he could be useful again.

Javier sat in the courtyard, looking out onto the training grounds and watched the recruits struggle under their training officers barking orders. He took off his jacket, letting his skin take in the early summer rays. On the way to being relaxed, Javier felt content. He didn’t think of you or Steve or anything other than the way the rays heated his skin and how the grass felt under his palm.

“Mind if I join?” Steve interrupted Javier’s moment. He too needed a quiet moment and while he was not completely over his friend’s concealment of the truth he didn’t want to struggle through the new emotions without him. Javier shrugged and moved his jacket to let his friend sit next to him. “Nice day,” He commented, not sure what to say. They hadn’t spoken at all since last night, avoiding each other like the plague. Javi grunted in response, taking a drag of his cigarette again.

The tension between the two men settled, they needed each other to get through this, even if they wouldn’t admit it out loud.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you man,” Javier finally spoke, breaking the silence. Steve was relieved he didn’t have to be the one to apologise first.

“It all happened kind of fast, I get it,” Steve replied, “She always was so efficient with things,” He chuckled. It was dark but the joke broke Javier’s frown.

“Bet Carrillo’s glad he doesn’t have her nagging at him all the time now,” Javi added. Steve chuckled and nodded in agreement.

“It’s going to be nice without their constant bitchin’,'' Steve smiled, he paused for a moment. “It’s gonna be quiet,” he added sadly.

The two fell silent again. He was right, everything was going to be quieter without you. Whether it was shouting at Carrillo for being an asshole, or singing along to the radio loudly while you're full of adrenaline after a chase, or even just your constant tapping and fidgeting. Life was going to be quieter without you.

“Ey! Peña! Murphy! Vamos, we’re going!” Carrillo’s voice called them back to reality.

The war wasn’t stopping for anyone, your death was just one of the thousands that had already been claimed by it. They would miss you, but both men knew they couldn’t let your short time with them hold them back. They would always carry you with them and their final win, when Escobar was dead, would be yours too.

NEXT PART

--

did that make it worse? did that make it better? 

want to get tagged in the next part? let me know

tag list:  @beskar-tano @buckysbeloved @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @this-cat-is-dea @themidnightsun-12 @wille-zarr @danniburgh​ @itsaisopodkillmepls​ @urbankaite2​ @whataloadofmalarkey​ @ahsofka @yeetus-my-feetus​ @sara-alonso​ @lesbianlena​ @xiao-lusi​ @all-good-things-have-an-ending​ 

[msyuksanh]

“The Brush” | Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Just a bit of a silly story set within the events of episode 3, so there are minor spoilers ahead if you’ve not reached that part of the game!

Summary Ruggie has some tasks for you and Grim to do. One of which involves braiding a certain irritable lion’s hair...

Rating: G Characters: Leona, Ruggie, Grim Location: Leona’s Room

---------

“Before we go for breakfast we need to do a couple of things first,” stated Ruggie standing before you with his hands on his hips.

You and Grim were dressed and ready for the day while Leona was just about coming into the land of the living. He lazily slipped on his orange waistcoat over his white shirt.

“We’re not your slaves.” retorted Grim.

You elbowed him gently to remind him they were doing you guys a favor letting you stay at the Savanaclaw Dorm, or more specifically Leona’s room. Also, not forgetting that in return for their kindness you guys were the new temporary servants.

“What would you like us to do?” you asked with a bright smile trying to make up for Grim’s remark.

“We just need to collect some clothes for laundry, and one of you will need to braid Leona’s hair.”

The was a short silence as you and Grim exchanged a look.

At this point Leona was still fixing his uniform and putting on accessories, seemingly completely oblivious to what was just said.

“As much as I would like to try not to rip out that guy’s hair I don’t have opposable thumbs so good luck,” Grim held up his paws and shrugged. He patted you on the shoulder before flying over to Ruggie who had been piling up Leona’s clothes in a weave basket.

An “Ah-” escaped you as your hand stretched out in Grim’s direction.

“Leona! Don’t go back to sleep!” Ruggie tutted and sighed, putting down the basket and pulling his prefect up into a sitting position. When did he go back to sleep!?

Leona growled. “What’s 5 more minutes? It’s not gonna kill anyone,” he grumbled, to which Ruggie rolled his eyes.

“We’ll be back in about 10 minutes. Come on Grim, I’ll show you the laundry room.” Ruggie strolled out with his hands clasped behind his head.

“Hey, you! Why am I the one carrying this heavy basket?!” yelled Grim as he struggled to keep afloat in the air while trying to follow Ruggie’s quickly disappearing form.

Now with them gone uncomfortable silence fell in the room. Leona sat on the edge of his bed, hunched over with his elbows on his knees and smartphone in hand.

You let out a quick sigh but found your energy after a deep breath.

“Okay, let’s get started shall we?” you said with another bright smile.

You walked towards Leona who strangely straightened up obediently and turned the screen off on his phone.

“So…is there a special style you have for your braids?” you inquired as you leant over him to inspect his luscious dark brown locks. His twitching ears sparked a curiosity in you. How you desired to just reach out and touch them!

“No.” he replied bluntly.

“Does Ruggie do anything special or-?”

“Hurry up and get on with it,” he growled out. The King of Beasts closed his eyes with what you assumed to be annoyance.

“Okay.” Your face and shoulders dropped indicating your motivation slowly leaving you.

You understood Leona wasn’t exactly in the mood for small talk. Then again, when ever was he?

You positioned yourself to his side, picked up a good amount of hair and tentatively dragged your fingers through it.

Leona was back on his phone endlessly scrolling from the fast motion of his thumb swiping up and down the screen.

“Hold on a minute,” you mumbled. You crawled on your knees onto his bed and appeared at height behind him bringing all his hair to the back. You tried combing through it all with your fingers again but found it difficult with the tangles and knots.

You got off the bed abruptly, now filled with a burst of excitement. After rummaging through your belongings you returned back to the bed with a hair brush in hand. Luckily you’d cleaned it!

“What’s taking so long!?” Leona only saw you bolt across the room and back from the corner of his eye. One thing he knew for sure was this was taking too long and he was going to murder someone if he didn’t get any food soon.

“I’ll be done in two minutes, don’t worry!” you exclaimed happily.

“Make it one,” was his irritated response.

Upon hearing his words you started brushing out the ends of his wavy hair quickly and gradually worked your way up. You got to the top of his head and made sure to be careful brushing around his ears. They twitched when the brush was near and Leona’s tail swished in a carefree manner, hitting your body and arms softly at times. How you wanted to touch that too!

Were your ears deceiving you? You swore you could have heard a small purr come from the Savanaclaw Dorm Leader.

Gasping at how smooth his hair had become you grinned seeing your fingers run so effortlessly through.

“Okay, braid time.” You left the hair brush on the edge of the bed and moved from behind him to his side with one foot planted on the floor and your other knee still on the bed. You stood tall so you had better height to do your work.

Slowly but surely you finished the first braid and felt proud of the end product. It didn’t turn out too bad between the nerves of touching a stranger’s hair and being so close to someone with such a strong personality.

All of a sudden you heard a clatter. Puzzled, you looked down to see Leona’s phone had fallen out of his hand. What?

As if in slow motion you saw him about to fall forward. Was he asleep!?

“No-n-no-no-!” You swung your arms around his wide shoulders in a panic and threw all your strength against him to stop him falling. Thank goodness your foot was on the floor otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to hold him back. And you knew he was more than likely going to fly into a blinding rage and kick you and Grim out if he had found himself woken up by faceplanting his own bedroom floor.

His head fell toward you and rested on your chest. His breathing was deep.

Oh, my goodness.

The panic set in wondering if Ruggie and Grim were to come back at any second. What would they say if they saw you both like this right now!?

“Hey, Leona, it’s time to wake up…!” You sang shakily, gently jostling him.

Nothing. You sighed forcibly. ‘Okay, let’s try something different.’

You sunk down onto your knee on the bed so you were at least able to see his face properly. In doing so Leona’s head fell into the crook of your neck.

Oh, my goodness(!)

Your eyes widened in shock. In that split second you felt his breath on your neck shivers ran up and down your back, but you swiftly shook your head to get rid of any strange thoughts.

“Leona! Hey!” You were confident he wasn’t going to fall forward anymore with his weight somewhat balanced by your arm around the back of him. You cautiously took your arm from across his chest and pulled his head away by cupping his jaw.

“Hello!? Please wake up(!)”

Nothing. You closed your eyes and pointed your face to the ceiling feeling everything you was doing was pointless.

Of course, the cruel hand of fate decided to deal you another card of misfortune right there and then, didn’t it? Of course your arm, the one essentially supporting his entire weight, gave out and you both fell backwards onto the bed.

Uh-oh.

As luck would have it you were stuck.

“Leona(!) Wake up! Why do you like sleeping so much!?” You questioned with exasperation in your voice.

You tried pulling your arm out from underneath his back but to no avail.

Feeling a mixture of annoyance, desperation and dread, you decided to just give in and wait for Ruggie to find you.

You facepalmed so hard you could cry. ’All I had was one job’

Why were things always happening to you? You couldn’t go one day, it seemed, without some kind of crazy event involving you and Grim. Not to mention this insane contract you believed you could fulfill to free Deuce, Ace and the other students trapped under Azul’s unique magic. But, how else were they going to get free? Who else was going to help them? Even if you had no magic, and you didn’t really know who you were or where you came from, you felt such a pull to help those in need.

Wow. Thinking about your friends really helped calm you down.

You turned your head to find Leona’s sleeping face in your direction. You paused. If it hadn’t have been for this pampered, arrogant lion-man and his straight-laced wolf and snarky hyena, you’d be god knows where. Your eyes roamed over his features taking them in slowly. You’d never seen him up close like this before.

Long eyelashes, sharp nose, lips always seemingly set in a frown, but luckily not right now. Your eyes wandered to his scar and you grew curious about its origins. His hair framed his face so well anyone would fall for him.

He was so stoic, so strong, ego the size of a galaxy, and yet in this very moment he was so gentle...

Leona’s eyes fluttered half-open and you held your breath. What would he think about this situation? How would he react!?

You couldn’t tell if his emerald eyes had focused enough to catch you staring back at him. Was he going to yell? Would he think you did something weird to him?

The answer was no. He went back to sleep.

You laughed suddenly finding the situation incredibly absurd yet hopelessly entertaining.

“What are you doing?” asked Ruggie from the door.

Relief washed over you and you’d never been happier to see the young hyena. “Oh, thank goodness you’re back!”

“What happened?” questioned Grim as he flew into the room. He gasped loudly.

“I’m stuck” You waved your free arm about to show the predicament you were in.

“How did this even happen?” Grim flew around checking you guys out. Ruggie laughed his signature snicker as he pulled his phone out to snap a million photos.

“The great Grim will get you out!” The furry demon grabbed your free arm and started pulling.

“No, Grim-wait-ow-ow-ow!” You cried in pain.

Ruggie lost himself to his laughter but never missed a beat with his photo-taking.

Grim gave up when he realized he couldn’t actually pull you out. You directed a death glare at him.

Ruggie’s laughter subsided and he wiped the tears out of his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from the Ramshackle Dorm even if I tried”.

“Can you just get him up, please?” You pleaded.

“Alright. Leona!! Wake up now!” Ruggie sighed, grabbed Leona’s wrists and pulled him up into a sitting position; the same move he’d made before.

Leona stretched his arms above his head and let out a long, hard yawn. “Why is everyone so loud!? You’d think I could get 5 more damned minutes of sleep”. He stood up and twisted at the waist working out the cracks in his back. You quickly followed suit getting up off the bed as you rubbed your slightly numb arm. Leona didn’t even seem to notice you were on his bed let alone him crushing a precious limb of yours.

“So, what happened? All you had to do was braid his hair... Was that too hard a task?” asked Ruggie condescendingly.

You ignored his patronising question.

“Well, I managed to get one braid done”, you professed kinda proudly, “but I decided to detangle his hair because, you know, I wouldn’t want to hurt him while braiding so I got my hair brush-“

Ruggie sharply inhaled.

At this moment Leona had wandered out onto the balcony, presumably, to get a moment of peace.

“A brush?” questioned the hyena. His eyes searched and fell upon the offending tool that laid abandoned beside the bed. He shook his head.

“What’s wrong with that?” Grim tilted his head in confusion.

“Look: when you brush a cat-“

“Lion” Leona interjected with a death stare. He’d come back to join the group and narrowed his eyes at Ruggie having heard him call him a ‘cat’.

“Fine. When you brush a…lion, they get comfortable. And when they get comfortable, they…” Ruggie gestured with his hands to coax the answer out of you.

“…fall asleep?” You questioned as you furrowed your brow wondering why he trailed off when he knew the answer.

Within a split second you gasped loudly; eyes widening once the realisation had dawned on you.

“Oh…” You looked over at Leona apologetically who only looked back with a bored stare.

“Yeah…” Ruggie agreed with a scrunched nose. He grinned making a mental reminder to show Jack the photos later. Oh, what juicy, juicy blackmail he now possessed.

“I don’t care what you’re talking about and I’m not standing around here waiting for you to finish.” The King of Beasts ‘hmphed’ and headed out of his room at warp speed.

“How are you not annoyed you only have one braid?” You heard Ruggie ask coming to the side of his prefect. He threw a cheeky grin back at you over his shoulder.

“I got to sleep more. I don’t care. It’s just hair,” answered Leona nonchalantly. The young hyena couldn’t really argue with that.

“I’ll put the other braid in later” said Ruggie. That poor boy probably knew Leona long enough that the lion would be bothered about the lack of braid eventually.

You let out a big sigh and let your body relax now that you were out of that situation. You followed behind the two Savanaclaw boys at a distance.

“Huh…” Grim flew beside you slowly with a paw rubbing his chin in thought.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“If all it takes is one brush to knock him out, we could steal A LOT of rich boy’s stuff,” pondered the small demon loudly with a nodding motion.

You laughed dryly. “Come on, don’t you get any funny ideas”

And with that, off you all went towards the school cafeteria, and towards what would be another crazy day at Night Raven College.

---------

(I’ve been watching cat videos lately on YT and the inspiration came to me! Our Leona is a big kitty after all!

I’ve not written in a long time so there are mistaaaakes, but thanks for reading!)

[strangeinternetwasteland]

Shattered Reality- Chapter 5

A/N: This chapter explains Gojo and Geto a little more. Y/N goes through a lot mentally.

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, fluff

Word Count: 2.6K

You were thankful for Gojo’s sense of urgency. The moment you uttered those words, he just reacted. You were anxious, scared, and  uncertain. Sure your apartment building wasn’t very big, only three stories, but really other people’s lives were in ashes too. As you were traveling to your probably non-existing apartment, you were filled with dread. Where were you going to go now? You didn’t have any family around, and staying in a motel was going to cost you money you didn’t have.  You groaned externally. How much worse could your life get?  You really didn’t need an answer to that question, because you knew the answer.

    As you debated  your life and whether it was worth living, Gojo grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers with his. An intimate gesture you’d normally shy away from, but for some reason, you found yourself actually enjoying whatever this was with him. You relaxed a bit. He brought your hand to his lips and kissed your fingers. Each and every single one. He hadn’t spoken a word since leaving his penthouse, but you really could use some sort of positive outlook in this situation.

   As he turned the corner of the street where your apartment was located, you saw the fire engines, and police cars blocking the way. Gojo slowed the SUV, while you untangled your hand from Gojo’s. When he stopped you hopped out of the car and jogged to the scene of it all.

   The fire was quick and intense, but there was virtually nothing left. It wasn’t as painful for you, seeing as you had very little to begin with, but other people’s lives were completely destroyed. You began to weep for them. You fell to your knees and just sobbed. You wish you could erase the last few days. You wanted it to end, all the pain, all the psychological scars, all the loneliness you were feeling.

   Gojo had seen the emotional turmoil you were in. He realized that while the loss for you wasn’t great, for other’s it was more. It was their life. It was everything they owned. He’d do a lot more than burn down an apartment for a lot less. Hell, he did do a lot more for a lot less. It was what he grew up to be, who he was. He did feel an inkling of remorse, but at least nobody died... this time. He couldn’t ignore you or your feelings, he didn’t want to appear selfish or cold. So he did what any good guy did. He would comfort you.

   Gojo wrapped his arms around you as you sobbed. He could play the perfect gentleman, he had been taught well. He knew that Geto’s father preferred him over Geto when it came to playing that role. Geto would grow angry quickly, and lash out just as he did two nights ago on you. As always, Gojo would be the one to clean up any mess Geto left behind. Most times, they could just drug them off and drop them off in the middle of nowhere with little regard for their wellbeing. Not this time though.

   This time it was problematic, you were Kioko’s best friend, and unfortunately, another complication. So Gojo would play the sweet, and kind gentleman who saves the day. Kioko, who was so totally oblivious to the world around her. Gojo did think of her as a little sister, he cared about her. Enough so that he beat one of her ex’s two inches away from death, just because he grabbed her wrist to keep her from walking away.

   Geto was lucky he was  the leader's biological son. Gojo could’ve done so much worse to Geto, and he planned on it. While it was tricky, it was not impossible. That was always the plan all along though. It was always sitting in the back of his mind. Geto was set up to inherit the Nameless, when his father died, which could be at any moment. The only terrible thing that Geto did besides get physical with people, was take photos of all his “prizes” as he referred to them. Photos of the women he’d fuck, maim, or kill. What was surprising was the number of women who were into it. They’d allow him to do whatever he wanted to them, only because it was fun for him. Geto was really fucked up, when Gojo actually thought about it.

   “Gojo, you’re hurting me.” You said to him. Gojo snapped out of his thoughts and back to reality. Gojo released his grip on your shoulder and rubbed the pain away.

   “I am so sorry, Y/N. I was thinking about how awful this must be for you. I was getting upset at how terrible these last few days have been.” He told you as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You leaned into him.You knew that this relationship, if you could call it that, felt good, even if temporary.

   “The good thing here is that no one died.” He told you. You nodded in agreement, and gave him a small smile. You really were thankful you had Gojo to lean on right now.

   “I should really find the officer that called me and talk to him.” You told Gojo. He watched you as you did so.  Thinking on everything .Gojo waited while you talked to the officer. You gave your name and contact info to him. He asked a few questions about your whereabouts, and you answered them honestly.  When the officer turned and saw Gojo he gave him a solemn nod. A secret code between members of Nameless. This was not lost on you, and  you were going to ask him about it. The officer feigned interest, and let you go after a few minutes.

   After talking to a few neighbors and checking in with them. Making sure there wasn’t anything they needed you walked back to Gojo. He took your hand in his as you headed back to his SUV. You warmed at the action, it seemed as if at least one thing was going right in your life.

   “Gojo. I saw you and the officer nod to each other. Is that some sort of secret sign?” You teased him, laughing slightly and the ridiculousness of it.

   “Yes, actually. We’re both in the mafia.” Gojo told you honestly. You laughed at him, thankful for his playful attitude.

   “HA! HA! Very funny.” You said with sarcasm. Gojo was relieved to hear you think it was a joke, but when it came down to it, he could tell you that he was honest and he did tell you at one point. Gojo turned the car around and started heading back to his penthouse. If he had his way, you’d stay there forever, and he will, but he at least needed to act like you had an option.

   “Y/N. I know that everything is really fucked up, right now. I want you to know that you’re more than welcome to stay in my penthouse as long as you’d like.” Gojo offered you. You really hadn’t thought much about it honestly. You would’ve stayed with Kioko, and then you remembered Geto. You decided that you needed to talk to Kioko about Geto, but wasn’t mentally prepared for that. You groaned aloud over the thought.

   “Judging by that, I will take you to a family member if you prefer.” He countered.

   “I don’t have any family, I was going to ask Kioko if I could stay with her, but…” You trailed off. You knew you didn’t need to say anymore. Gojo was with you through it all. You didn’t want to impose him anymore than you already have. Gojo couldn’t have been happier to hear that you didn’t have any family. No one would interfere.

   “Look, if it helps, you can stay in my room, and I can stay in any of the guest beds, or on the couch.” He offered you.

   “What if I want to stay in your bedroom with you?” You asked, trying to be flirty with him. He didn’t say anything in response. He just started the SUV and headed toward home. Unsure of what to say, you texted Kioko. The silence that filled the car was slightly awkward. Gojo put his hand on your knee. Honestly, the thought of just keeping you locked away from Geto, and being able to have you for himself  was incredibly alluring.

   “I was just kidding.” You finally said after a few moments of the unbearable silence.

   “Hm? Kidding about what love?” He asked you, rubbing your leg. It seemed weird to you that he didn’t even listen to a word you said. Like some sort of switch had turned off in his mind. Although, calling you love, was almost impossible to not get excited about.

   “Staying in your bedroom with you.” You said in a small voice. He laughed at this.

   “Oh! Did I not respond to you? I mean, I have expectations of a woman when I am sharing a bedroom with her.” He squeezed your thigh with a lusty look in his eyes.

   “Oh...I don’t mind helping out with cooking, or cleaning.” You told him, not understanding why he was acting so off.

   “I wasn’t talking about cooking or cleaning.” He inhaled sharply as he pulled off into an alleyway. “I was talking about more intimate matters.” His devilish smirk didn’t hide any of his thoughts.

   Gojo’s thoughts were far from his actual actions. He thought that if he could be intimate with you then you’d be more willing to do the things he asked. You were attractive to him sure, but the most appealing thing about you is that you were forbidden. Kioko’s best friend, and wanted by Geto. There was nothing he wanted less right now than intimacy.

   “I-I am flattered Gojo, really. I know I said I wanted to stay with you in your bedroom, but I was just trying to be flirty. I really am not like that.” You admitted feeling foolish.

   Gojo frowned. You were rejecting him. Something that not many women did. Though he had to admit this made you more appealing. He removed his hand from your thigh.

   “My apologies, if I made you uncomfortable in any way. I overstepped my bounds. You already are dealing with so much. I am making it harder for you. If you do wish to stay with me the offer still stands. I will keep my distance from you. If you need anything feel free to ask. Otherwise, if you’d like I can drop you off at Kioko’s, since you're most comfortable with her. I can tell Geto keep his distance, but I cannot guarantee he’d listen to my suggestions.” Gojo’s tone turned cold.

You felt a stab in the chest. The warmth you felt just moments ago. You weren’t sure where you’d want to stay honestly. It was all overwhelming. While you really wanted to keep it all bottled up and suppress it, you felt yourself cracking. You weren’t a desperate person. You didn’t need love or affection, you didn’t seek gratification from people. You put walls up and let no one in. That’s exactly who you were. Why did Gojo’s actions bother you? Why did you exactly want Gojo anyway? Why did you let Geto get away with choking you? Why didn’t you kick his ass? Why? The answer was being screamed into your brain. Because you were weak. It was as simple as that.

Gojo pulled into the parking garage. You couldn’t do it anymore. You broke. You screamed as loud as you could muster. It was high pitched, and eerily reminiscent of the day prior. You felt like you were being tortured. When the screaming stopped, the tears came. You weren’t okay, you were losing it over everything. You wanted to make it all stop, and end it all.

Gojo sat there in the car. While, he really did truly understand this feeling. He was unsure how you wanted to be comforted. He let you scream out all of your frustrations, he knew after the pain, there were tears. After tears, there was emptiness. That changed a person, you either got over it and kept being you, or it changed your whole being.

You began sobbing into your hands. Of course when you truly needed someone there was no one. Kioko never responded to your text. Gojo hated you because you rejected him, and Geto wanted you dead. You were replaceable to everyone. You felt yourself growing angry. Why did it matter if you rejected Gojo? He shouldn’t have gotten mad at you. That’s an asshole thing to do. Gojo, to you, was no better than any other asshole. You felt the anger boiling over. You stared at Gojo, tears streaming down your face.

“You’re nothing but a fucking asshole.” You told him with venom in your voice. You didn’t care how nice he was to you before. It was his fault. Gojo was as unreadable as ever. He didn’t give you any hint of emotion.

“It must be easy for you. To not feel anything. No not give a shit about anyone  other than yourself. To play with people’s emotions! To live in your fortress in the sky looking down on all the people like they’re peasants, for your pleasure.” You screamed at him.

“Anything else you’d like to tell me?” He asked you mockingly. You wanted nothing more than to punch him in his fucking face. There was nothing else that would give you pleasure at this moment.

“No, other than you’re a bitch.” You said as you cocked your arm back and then aimed straight for his nose. He dodged the attack, and took your hand in his. A slightly amused look was on his face.

“Y/N. I understand where you’re coming from.” He told you, but you didn’t believe him.

“Yeah, how could you Mr. Rich asshole, know what it is like to be me? You didn’t grow up poor.” You retorted.

“No. I didn’t. I had all my needs met.” He told you as a matter of factly.

“You know you can go fuck yourself!” You spat at him. Your anger was just exploding. You finally connected your fist to his jaw. Gojo couldn’t believe that you actually ended up punching him. It wasn’t super hard, but he did know it would be sore for a day or two. He knew he’d been egging you on. He knew that you needed to release everything you felt. He didn’t mind being the one you took it out on.

Your face turned from anger to horror as you realized what had you happened, what you had done. You backed up as far as you could, which wasn’t that far. You feared what Gojo would do to you. You fumbled looking for the door handle trying to escape as quickly as possible. Again there was no emotion on Gojo’s face, he turned getting out of the car, and walked around the car. He was opening your door, when you fell back slightly. The only thing on your mind was to run. Your fear was at an all time high. You got out of the car, shut the door, and turned to run.

Gojo placed a hand  on your arm, squeezing slightly, and pulling you into him. You were unsure of why he would act like this. You didn’t want to have anything to do with him, and he didn’t want anything to do with you, you were sure. He wrapped both arms around you, and whispered.

“You’re okay. You’re safe.” You didn’t want to believe him, and yet, you believed him. He hugged you for a moment longer and grabbed your hand pulling along with him inside to his penthouse. You felt completely empty.

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[pricemarshfield]

the killing kind

A post-canon Drarry fic. Read on AO3 here.

Harry would like one day away from the press, from being the Boy who Lived, to just be Harry. Polyjuice would work, but it's disgusting and difficult and also possibly illegal, but wizards are bad at recognizing anything non-magical, so this might work.

At least, that was his reasoning for walking into Diagon Alley with a Muggle stage prosthetic that makes his chin look completely different, a fake mustache, and his hair enchanted to be long enough to finally, finally cover his scar. He's sure that last one will wear off in an hour, but that should be enough to get an ice cream at Fortescue's and sit outside and eat it without being swarmed.

You'd think, years after Tom Riddle's death, that they'd stop caring about him. But no, they need to report every little thing he does. Harry Potter rushed through Auror training. Harry Potter quits Ministry work, possible run for Minister? Professor McGonagall had tried her best to keep his professorship at Hogwarts under lock and key, but after his first day, the papers had a tell-all. He's not sure which student it was, but they're children. He can't blame them.

The first Prophet reporter he sees, a woman with shockingly long hair he recognizes as taking photos outside a restaurant near the Burrow (preceding an article about his break-up with Ginny that made it seem like something tragic and not like school sweethearts amicably parting weeks before the photo was taken), doesn't give him a second glance. He has to force himself to walk normally past her and not rush.

It's the one thing Auror training actually taught him. People won't pay attention to you if you act like everything's fine. One art thief he'd caught in the three weeks he'd actually worked at the Ministry had just walked into places and taken paintings, not bothering to sneak or disguise himself whatsoever. They'd assumed he must have been there. Harry had felt bad taking him in, actually; he was taking better care of the paintings than the rich assholes he was taking them from.

"Was going to take one from the Malfoys next," the guy'd said. "I know apparently the wife and the kid aren't actually, you know, Death Eaters, but they sure don't need all that art, don't they?"

"Don't suppose you'd let me catch you right after you stash that one somewhere," Harry'd joked.

"Nope. Sorry, mate," he'd said, and sounded so much like Ron that Harry made idle conversation about how Animagi tended to find it pretty easy to escape from wizarding jails, and how Azkaban was much more--ethical, now that the Dementors were gone and Hermione had aggressively campaigned for prisoners' rights. (With Harry's quiet support and financial backing, remembering how haunted Sirius had looked.)

Anyway. He's getting lost in his thoughts again. It does mean he doesn't notice if there's any other reporters on the path to Fortescue's. It also means he doesn't process the words on the sign in front of him for long enough that he's getting a couple weird looks.

Aguefort's Chronomantics Romantic Novels

Books to Transport You Through Time, Space, and Dimensions!

Harry blinks at it, looks around. This is the corner where Fortescue's was--and he briefly considers hexing himself when he remembers that Florean was one of the people who disappeared, back in the war, who never came back after. Sure enough, there's a little in memorial metal plaque on the front door of the bookshop.

He swears under his breath. He should have remembered this. But no, he's stuck.

There's probably some other shop he can grab something at, right? Other than what looks like overpriced romances? There's a few sit-down restaurants, but he needs to be in and out in forty minutes, max.

He wanders aimlessly down the streets, hoping to catch a whiff of something. Churros, tacos, some sort of street cart or something. Diagon Alley's not really that type of place, but he hasn't been here in a year and a half, so maybe someone's pushing convention.

There doesn't end up being any cheap little shops on the side of the road, but fifteen minutes later, he does see a place that sells chips and has outdoor seating, and that'll have to do. When he walks in, the place is packed, but the line's moving quickly enough that he should still be fine, if he eats quickly. Worse comes to worse, he can just Apparate away when his hair starts to act up.

He gets through the line, pays, gets his chips, adds some more salt to it, and sits outside in under six minutes. (He counts. Also, he has a watch that he remembers to look at three minutes in.) Outdoor seating's a little cramped, and he can feel himself tense, shoulders higher than they should be. He lets himself sit with his back to the wall, eyes on everyone, ignoring the reminder for CONSTANT VIGILANCE in his head from old Mad-Eye, and begins to eat.

Now that he's got some food in him and he knows...well. He's pretty sure that no one's watching him from behind, he's able to look around and appreciate his surroundings, being in the world without being stared at. It's then that he realizes a few things:

1. Most of the people here have notepads next to them, quills writing notes on their own.

2. The building across the street has a sign in looping, dramatic script that reads Daily Prophet.

3. Draco fucking Malfoy is at the table next to him, and

4. He's looking right at Harry.

Harry tries to express please, for the love of God, don't make a scene with his face. Malfoy doesn't seem to pick up on it from the way he leans forward, drawing the eyes of someone nearby. Harry casts a quick Muffliato around the pair.

"Potter," Malfoy says.

"I'm just trying to grab a bite," Harry pleads.

"What, you think they wouldn't serve you if you showed up?" Malfoy asks, arching a brow at him like he's said something oh-so-intelligent. Harry wonders if cursing him is worth the attention. But Malfoy being annoying isn't enough to get him on the front page of the Prophet, probably, and Harry didn't speak at his trial for nothing.

"No," Harry says. "But sometimes someone might like to eat without everyone staring at them, yeah?"

Malfoy narrows his eyes at him. "I can understand that."

That was more than Harry'd expected. His shoulders drop a little. "Good. I'll be out of here in just a few minutes anyway." He looks back down at his chips.

"Why?" Malfoy asks.

Harry looks up at him. He hadn't exactly anticipated a conversation with Malfoy. With a glance at the Prophet next door, Harry says, "Hungry."

"I didn't mean why here, Potter, have you really not gotten any smarter since we were at school?"

"Have you really not changed since Hogwarts either?" Harry snaps, knows it's a low blow right after it's left his mouth. Malfoy's face blanches, and he turns back to his book with a pinched expression that Harry doesn't feel guilty about. Decidedly not guilty. Not even a little. His hero complex has gotten better, and he can tell Hermione that later.

One minute and fifteen seconds later, Harry caves and hands Malfoy a chip. He has to lean way too far, two of his chair legs leaving the ground, but the scrape of that means at least Malfoy glances up and he doesn't have to say anything to get his attention. Malfoy takes the chip with an expression of distaste. He doesn't seem to have any food.

"Did you come here for food and get turned away?" Harry asks, connecting a couple things in his head like those mystery boards Ron still uses at work.

Malfoy glares at him. "No, I'm sitting here because I'm fond of being by a bunch of reporters."

"You could leave," Harry says. "It doesn't look like you're chained here."

"That would be conceding, Potter," Malfoy says primly. "I don't expect you to understand."

"Alright," Harry says. "Look, I just wanted some food, the charm on my hair's wearing off soon, and I didn't mean to rub it in your face." After an awkward pause, he adds, "Also, wizards don't notice anything with Muggle prosthetics, so. You could try that."

"Is that why your chin looks like that?" Malfoy asks, horrified. "It's horrific, Potter, you're better off just taking off those glasses rather than completely destroy your appearance."

"It's temporary," Harry says, ignoring the little thrill up his spine when Malfoy almost-implies something nice about how he looks. "And I'm trying not to get looked at, git."

Malfoy gives Harry a quick up-and-down look then flicks his wand. Harry braces himself, but instead feels his hair cool a little, like a more pleasant disillusionment charm. When he glances at the shop's window, he can see it's fallen even further flat.

"Thanks," Harry says. Malfoy nods at him. "Sorry."

"What are you talking about?"

"That that happened," Harry says. "The shop thing, not the--not the hair thing."

The corner of Malfoy's mouth quirks up. "I'm used to it."

Not for the first time, Harry's struck with a quiet sense of injustice that he doesn't really know what to do with. In school, it was simple: pass his classes, defeat Riddle, and try to win the House Cup. But there's things he can't tackle quite as easily, or at least the path towards them are less clear. The right of blood over anything else in wizarding families, the existence of house elves, the way people are judged years later for what they did as a child in war.

Harry's under no illusions about Malfoy being a good person; he was still a bigoted little git in school. But he also knows he's made an attempt to do better, to be better.

"If you want," Harry says, wincing at how awkward and halting his voice sounds. "Next time the Prophet corners me, I can say something nice about you. Might change things."

"Why?" Malfoy says,  brow furrowed, the picture of distrust.

Harry shrugs. "Dunno. Seems unfair."

"You really do have a hero complex," Malfoy says despairingly. "I thought it was just a pathological need for attention, but no, you really do have to step into situations that don't need you if you have even the slightest inkling someone might be a bit upset."

"I don't have to," Harry says, rolling his eyes. "It was an offer. You know, something people do when they're trying to be nice?"

"Gryffindors," Malfoy sighs. "This is why you lot end up being Chosen Ones."

Harry wants to yell at him or just throw a hex, reporters be damned, but Malfoy's smiling slightly, and his tone was almost joking, maybe.

"At least we didn't have to live in a dungeon," Harry says, and meets Malfoy's gaze with a slight smile back.

[roselevesque]

Rose watches Utena for the first time and writes down her thoughts - Episode 7

Revolutionary Girl Utena spoilers ahead!

So it is known in advance, before starting the show I was aware of the following things:

Anthy is not what she seems

Anthy’s brother is the prince and he is trash

There are abuse and incest plotlines between the aforementioned characters

Utena and Anthy are canon

Utena kind of dies in the end

With that out of the way, I’ll be posting here my reactions and analysis of the series, so I can look back on them when I finish.

This being said, let’s get on with the episode. Discussion under Keep reading.

The student council member who has the focus today is Juri, an imposing young lady and amazing fencer who has a reputation for not being beaten in battle. Yet, despite these qualuties she possesses, she doesn’t feel fulfilled. The title of the episode and her first lines of dialogue point this out in an obvious way.

What’s interesting is that the one she’s telling this is Miki; fellow student council member and fellow highly-accomplished individual who doesn’t take pride in his talent due to unresolved personal issues.

A recurring theme with these two is using the duels and, by extension, Anthy, as a tool to mend their cracks instead of confronting them head on. It wouldn’t surprise me if the other duelists are revealed to be in the same or a similar boat eventually.

Cut to Utena and Juri’s first discussion. Originally, Utena presents herself as a nonbeliever in Anthy’s power, who thinks of a practical use for such a thing, like acing her finals ( something that Juri also says she could use the power for during the student council meeting ). Their talk about miracles stirs old memories for Juri, but she remains calm, probably because of Utena’s down to earth attitude.

It isn’t until Anthy shows up and offers her a rose, the same type of rose as the girl she loves must have once given her, that she snaps and slaps Anthy. ( And the amount of slaps this girl was put through in less than 10 episodes is maddening. #Anthydeservesbetter )

The rose Juri is associated with is a light orange. I’m aware that there’s a ton of rose symbolism in this show and I’m no expert, but I’m gonna try my best. The rose she wears during the duel being the same one that girl gives her in the flashback is a reminder that she fights to confirm her own cynicism, sewn in her by the girl’s words about miracles not coming true for her. Orange is considered a passionate colour, it’s the warmest colour after all. Juri’s orange is closer to a pastel than a vibrant shade, a possible sign to her “disillusionment”, lost faith and lack of fulfillment.

Touga’s monologue about eggs proceeds as usual and he informs Miki that Juri fights to disprove miracles’ existence by winning the Rose Bride. Touga then calls her out on the fact that a small part of her still hangs onto hope, hope that her feelings can reach the right person, hope Anthy’s powers are the answer, hope miracles exist.

We go through a bunch of flashbacks from which we gather Juri used to have two friends, the girl in her memories and a guy. The girl liked the guy and the guy might have liked Juri, so the girl ended up distancing herself from Juri and getting together with the guy, leaving Juri behind in the dust. ( Hmm, wonder who Juri could have feelings for. The guy whose face we barely see or the girl who had the first line of dialogue in this episode and is the reason for Juri’s rose being orange. Hmm. )

Moving on to Utena and Juri’s second discussion ( that doesn’t end anywhere near as well as the first ), the girls meet somewhere at night. They begin with remarks about each other’s clothing, all well and good. After which Utena shares her story about the Prince and things spiral fast from there. Juri loses it. She’s basically looking into a mirror that managed to be more open about her hope, and she seemingly can’t stand it.

Both Utena and Juri:

Claim not to believe in the power to revolutionise the world, yet hang onto wishes that would require a “miracle” to be fulfilled

Can’t escape from a certain event from the past that made them who they are today, events involving a person each one holds some kind of amorous feelings towards

Have a piece of jewelry as a reminder of these past events

The difference lies with the fact that Utena’s event shaped her into the noble prince persona, an archetype who makes miracles happen in fairy tales, while Juri’s cemented her negativism.

The contrast between them is established earlier in the episode, when Juri was praised for her work as a student council member, while Utena was once again being scolded for technically breaking a rule.

Right before the duel we get a scene of Anthy, alone in a classroom, singing about…rabbits ( she uses her hands, each probably representing one rabbit, Utena and Juri respectively )

And there’s also the regular Shadow Girls show. One Shadow Girl gets sick before a trip to the zoo and loudly proclaims she didn’t want to see the animals anyway, yet the other Shadow Girl sees through her act and says that she actually wanted go. Juri is quite obviously the sick girl, proclaiming that believing in miracles is foolish, but desiring one anyway.

* Starts jamming to Absolute Death Apocalypse *

Utena continues to prove she’s not a regular human by climbing all of those damn stairs and the duel starts.

The duel song brings to my mind a lot of imagery that signifies duality and contrast “Universal light”/“Mosaic light”; “Lucifer”/Michael"; “Light”/“Dark”; “Two sexes, two poles, two of me”; “Angel/Devil”. The polarity is inside Juri too.

The middle part makes a point to express how life is about the people leaving you behind.

“Life is merely…

…the moving shadow of the living.

In the universe of the mind.

…the drifting shape of the living.”

This leads to the lyric talking about light being a temporary existence. Light = miracle. A fact made much more obvious with these:

“The globe of Gyunus shining with light.

Gyunus, in every way, born in miracles.”

And for all of her internal conflict, Juri still feels hollow.

To make matters worse for her, she loses. Beat by what appears to be a miracle. ( This is the 2nd time in a duel when some force has appeared to aid Utena. It’s definitely the Prince’s intervention, but I don’t know what exactly it is or how he’s doing it. Possession? Power boost? Guess we’ll find out. )

The episode ends with surprise, surprise the discovery that Juri is in love with the girl who told her about miracles and that she carries a photo of her in her necklace. She sits under a tree, mulling about how she hates not being able to reach that girl.

And this is the end of my first Utena review-analysis. Hope I did an ok job and everything sounds coherent. I might watch the next episode either today or tomorrow and I’ll see when I’ll be able to write down my thoughts.

Also, I’d appreciate if anyone reading this could avoid spoiling me if you decide to comment on my thoughts. Thank you!

[medea10]

My Review of Zombieland Saga REVENGE

Yes, Franchouchou has come back after a two and a half year hiatus.

HISTORY: Zombieland Saga is an idol show.

I have already cut my readership in half with that one sentence alone. But this is no ordinary idol show! A maniacal necromancer named Kotarou Tatsumi brings seven girls back from the dead. A former idol from the 1980’s (Junko), a former idol from the 2010’s (Ai), a child star from the 2010’s (Lily), a girl with idol aspirations from 2008 (Sakura), a former biker gang chick from 1997 (Saki), a courtesan from the 19th century (Yugiri), and Yamada Tae! There’s no describing what exactly Yamada Tae is but we don’t question it as she’s best girl.

Kotarou brought these seven girls back to life in order to save the Saga area and revitalize it. Throughout the first 12 episodes, we watch these girls get the hang of being alive again after so long and become an idol group. With Kotarou’s make-up skills, he’s able to fool nearly everybody that these girls are living, breathing idols. Almost everybody! At the end of the series, we get one guy who caught on about Lily, Ai, and Junko. But enough about that! Let’s see how successful Franchouchou has gotten since we last left the series.

REVENGE: So this sequel begins with the girls doing odd-jobs trying to earn as much money as they possibly can. Normally, the girls would do odd gigs that Kotarou was able to conjure up and that’s been good publicity for their group Franchouchou. However, they came into some money problems when they gambled and lost. It’s no doubt that their performance in the 12th episode was a banger and gave Franchouchou a boost in the idol scene. However, they aimed too high by renting out a big amphitheater to have a concert and only 1.6% capacity was filled. So the performance that night was a crash and burn type of thing. The after-effect put the girls in the hole (money wise) and Kotarou spends his days getting drunk at bars.

Seriously, look at this guy! He looks like a drunk, fourth season Eren Yeager. Kinda hard watching Kotarou looking so sad, pathetic, and drunk! It wasn’t until the girls had to perform at a metal concert arena that Kotarou got a kick in the pants. The fool arrives to the performance hella late, screaming for an encore when the audience is totally not vibing for one. And the girls end up singing while the audience goes in (for a lack of a better term) a Blues Brothers style rumble. The important thing is that Kotarou is feeling better and is ready to send his little zombie songbirds out to save the Saga prefecture.

Throughout the season, we follow the girls of Franchouchou as they regain some popularity they obtained last season. Will they do it? In the first 4 episodes, the group gained their own radio show and Ai’s old group (before she died) Iron Frill considered them as rivals. I think they’ll be okay!

BUT WAIT…: What about that photographer fella we saw all last season? He was quickly catching onto Ai, Junko, and Lily looking a little too close in resemblance to the girls that died years ago. Slowly throughout the series, we see him get closer to the truth.

NEW IDOL?: Oh God, did Kotarou commit taboo once again by bringing another girl back from the dead?

No…It was sadly much worse.

While at a public bathhouse, a girl (not wearing her prescription glasses) entered the men’s side, slipped on some soap, and was knocked unconscious. Thinking she died, Kotarou brings her body back to the girls (who aren’t wearing their makeup) saying this girl will be #7 in Franchouchou. And just like I said, she is not dead and now she knows that the idol group she loves are dancing zombies.

Kotarou is truly fucking up royally this season.

Anyways, this is Maimai! She’s a fan of Franchouchou and ends up becoming a temporary member of the group as #7 (for the episode). And, she’s voiced by Kana Hanazawa! If you don’t know who she is by now, blow me. It’s a little scary knowing that there’s one person out there that knows about the secret. But Maimai is much too loyal a fan to ruin something for everyone and is totally chill about her favorite idol group really being zombies.

THE TWO UNSOLVED MYSTERIES: As much as many of us loved the first season to Zombieland Saga, there were two characters we wished got more play and we knew a little more about. Yugiri and Yamada Tae! Tae-chan has been the enigmatic idol from day one. And due to her possible mental disability, we might never know. However, in one episode we do see her stopping off at a cemetary and I do believe that was her own grave.

As for Yugiri, even the detective can’t dig up info on her. She was around in the late 1800s or the Meiji era and there’s only one known photo in existence of Yugiri before her death. This season, we got a two-episode saga to bring us the good word on Saga and its importance. We got a bit of a history lesson about the Saga prefecture during the Meiji era and even what it was like before then. And yes, we did learn how Yugiri died and her connection to Saga. It was quite sad, but definitely one of the best episodes of the series.

BEST SONG: Didn’t think I’d have one for this franchise.

Saga Jihen from episode 9.

Nuff said.

ENDING: Well, we learned some extra details on what happened during the fall and rise of Franchouchou. This mostly has to do with Kotarou’s gamble with booking a huge arena for the girls to perform in. First of all, this arena was the place of Ai’s death. You member! When she was electrocuted right there on stage! Second of all, they didn’t sell the tickets until the day of the concert. What was that end result again? 1.6% capacity filled! Even in Covid-19 times, that’s fucking small. Granted, the audience was full of those memorable fans from season one including Saki’s friend’s daughter, Lily’s father, and the two metal jackasses. But still, not a good! The girls hit a brick wall and felt embarrassed. This was the worst moment for these girls (aside from dying once). After the disasterous event, they were millions of yen in debt, they’re running out of essentials for the house, and Kotarou has gone on a two-month drinking binge. It was then that they decided to do makeup themselves and go out in the world to earn a living and eventually pay off the debt.

Thankfully, they were able to get out of debt and regained their popularity throughout Saga and further. Saki has managed to get a radio show. Iron Frill (Ai’s old group) sees Franchouchou as a worthy rival. Lily gained a lot of fame in a televised competition. So what’s next? Kotarou apologized to Franchouchou for his big mistake the previous year and him spiraling out of control. Seconds later, he announces that their revenge will be to perform at the very same arena that fucked up their career the year prior.

Boy, you do NOT learn your lesson, do you?!

More trouble is on the rise as that reporter who caught on about the girls being zombies has confronted Kotarou. We finally circled back to the final scene from season one. This guy has caught on to the fact that the girls of Franchouchou resemble girls that died. The only one that he couldn’t dig up dirt on was Yugiri. Possibly because the only known evidence for existence is a photo at the bar! What’s more, he has a sneaking suspicion that the girls of Franchouchou are all zombies. In a prior episode, the reporter snapped a picture at the right time exposing Yamada Tae’s head rolling around on the ground. Dude is ready to go public with the story of the girls of Franchouchou being zombies resurrected from the dead unless Kotarou pulls the plug on everything. Kotarou simply said that the girls will get their revenge and will perform at the arena.

And then…a storm hit Saga!

There was a lot of damage around town. And worst off was Kotarou’s place, as it was ripped from its foundation, thrown into the sea, and crumbled into nothing after coming ashore. Worst of all, the special makeup the girls use to hide their zombie state was in that wreckage. Meanwhile, Kotarou spent several days trapped in a bar with the bar owner and nearly drowned. The girls ended up in a safety shelter with nearly the entire Saga prefecture. The good thing is because they’re town celebrities that they were given a top floor to themselves for privacy. The bad thing is that they’ve been here for days and their makeup is starting to come off, exposing zombies. And to make matters worse, that nosy reporter who knows the girls are zombies is also staying at the shelter (though the girls don’t know he knows). The girls decided to use Junko’s doll-crafting paintset to make masks to hide behind. That lasted only five seconds while trying to entertain the children of the shelter.

This is it. The girls are exposed as zombies.

Actually, the kids and parents thought this was part of the act and thought Franchouchou was lifting up the spirits of the arena. And in comes Kotarou just in time! Man, right under the wire. Now we’re like a few days from this planned concert and Saga is still recovering from the huge storm. Morale is quite low and it’s starting to look like a worse outcome for Franchouchou’s revenge than what happened one year ago. Saki used her platform on the radio to reach all of her viewers to see if they could try to come to the arena for their concert that is now a charity concert. So will this concert be a big success or a bigger flop than last year?

Actually, the arena was packed with people. Fans we’ve met in season one and new characters we met this season were even in attendance. Lily’s father ended up clearing away a lot of the debris so that concert goers could get through. Even Iron Frill (Ai’s old group) came in attendance! The concert was a huge success! And can I say that I’m really enjoying Yamada Tae’s Freddie Mercury impression on stage.

Don’t think you’re that clever, Zombieland Saga. We all know!

Yes, the concert was perfect! A great revenge! They even made Kotarou (a grown-ass man) cry. Even the reporter is willing to keep his trap shut (for now) about the girls being zombies. And best of all, NO ONE CAUGHT COVID-19! Yeah, I have to bring that up. The date of the concert was March 8th, 2020. Ahem. March. 2020. But yeah, everything went great. Perfect ending for Zombieland Saga Reven…

AND THEN AN ALIEN MOTHERSHIP COMES IN AND ZAPS THE AREA!

Huh?!

Who wrote that in the script? Some jerkass from Gainax?!

The last 15 seconds of Zombieland Saga leaves us with some sort of unidentified flying object zapping the area. Only Zombieland Saga can get away with this shit. Well folks, let’s see what’s in store for season three, Zombieland Saga: Zombies in Space or Sagapendence Day Zomb-Trek: Deep Space Seven.

Yeah, I know nothing has been greenlit or announced yet, but you know Studio Mappa has something up their sleeves with that ending. Once again, I enjoyed Zombieland Saga’s charm. I didn’t know if there was much more they could offer us after the first season’s stories, like learning how the girls died, Sakura’s past, and especially Lily’s backstory. This season, I wish there was more Yamada Tae. Come on guys, we still don’t know how she died or anything about her past! And what’s up with Yamada Tae being buried next to Sakura? Did they know each other before passing away? I want some answers! But I was blown away when it came to Yugiri’s saga and the tale of Saga itself. We got a literal history lesson about what Saga was once, what it became after a long struggle, the pain some folks went to in order to keep Saga thriving, and all leading up to where we are now.

This was a fun season. I had a lot more fun with the music this season than the previous one. Yeah, believe it or not I liked the songs Franchouchou sang this season than last season. Never a dull moment, especially with Kotarou! Yeah, his crazy-ass was totally there making absolutely no fucka sense. Take that competition Lily entered.

What the fuck was Kotarou doing? That was an epic fail on so many levels.

Well folks, whenever season three or whatever sequel may come, I’m hoping for more information involving Yamada Tae. And you know what else was severely missing from this season, Kotarou’s past with Sakura. I didn’t forget that flashback from season one and those couple of seconds this season aren’t enough to satisfy my hunger. Those are the two things I would like to know more about in whatever comes of the franchise. Otherwise, great time had by all!

Once more, if you are not a fan of idol shows, this is the only one I would highly recommend Zombieland Saga. Crunchyroll has both seasons available for streaming. FUNimation is now dubbing the second season as we speak.

[justjessame]

Glorious, Before the Burden - The Comfort ~ 3

The first thing I learned about the laptop and internet was that it held unfathomable information - if only one knew how to access it.  Luckily, Michael knew how to access a great deal of it.  

“I need to know how to find a woman named Jane Foster,” I told him and he smiled.  “What?”  

“A woman?” Rolling my eyes I explained Thor’s fascination with her and he nodded.  “You think if you make contact with her -”

“She will end up on Asgard, Michael, I’ve seen it.”  She’s with Frigga when she dies, she’s housing one of the most powerful forces in existence when it happens.  “I need to know where she is NOW, so I can -”

“Ambush her and piggyback a ride home,” he chuckled.  “Alright, let’s see if we can find Jane Foster.”  

In Asgard, names aren’t quite as common as they were on Midgard - wading through the Jane Fosters that Michael found took time. Far more time than I expected.  

“Why are there so many?”  I asked, feeling as if time was slipping away too fast.  “Have your people never thought of originality?”  He laughed and shook his head.  “I suppose I should be thankful you can find pictures for most of them.”  

“It does make it a bit easier than just the name and ages, doesn’t it?”  He tapped up another group and I gasped.  

“There,” pointing, I bit my lip and squinted.  “I think.”  She looked a little different, wearing something checkered and casual, but I felt fairly certain it was her.  

“Jane Foster, she’s a doctor.” I leaned closer to the screen as Michael brought up the article that was attached to the photograph he found.  “Well, a scientist actually.  Astrophysicist, it says here.”  She was also quite lovely, I could see why Thor had found himself smitten with her.  While he moved the screen through the article looking for an idea of where she might be now, I couldn’t help but stare at the photo and how clever her eyes looked, dark as chocolate.  “Seems she’s relocated to London.”

“London?” My mind went to the foggy streets where Loki held my hand and showed me the sights, hazy though they were.  “How far are we from the city?”  

Finding out where Jane Foster was in London was simple, as simple as finding out how far away London was from the small village I’d made my temporary home.  The real issue was HOW to introduce myself to her without disturbing her or seeming odd.  

“You could just introduce yourself -” Michael advised, and I stared at him in disbelief.  “You are not your husband, Sigyn.”  He reminded me, but I shook my head.  

“The fact that I refuse to denounce my husband, Michael, is what put me in this place to start with,” my reminder to him.  “Announcing to a complete stranger - one who is smitten with my husband’s brother - that I am Loki’s wife might not be taken as well as one might think.”  

He sighed, knowing how much I disliked lying, yet also knowing how I would do it if I had to - after all, I was pretending to be his granddaughter and using a false name while mingling with the villagers.  “You forget your own powers of persuasion, Sigyn.” Eyes soft and a sad smile on his lips.  “People don’t only like you because of a lie, or because of magic -” he patted my hand.  “It’s because they can tell that you’re a good person.”  

“And you think that just meeting this person, and telling her that I’m ME,” he nodded and I bit my lip.  “What if she doesn’t?”  

“Then you do as you did when you first arrived,” I sighed.  “Or with those SHIELD people.” I didn’t like that plan, but it was an option.  “The point is, Sigyn, that you CAN do this.”  

I wasn’t entirely certain that my plan would work, nor that I would be leaving from London for Asgard and not returning to my cottage - so I didn’t pack up everything.  I left Michael with a key, and I took a small bag with me aboard a train.  So focused on meeting Jane Foster that I hadn’t noticed a lack in dreams or visions - worry of the present pushed away the comfort of my past and the fear of the future.  

London bore very little resemblance to the city that Loki first brought me to, and while we had revisited Midgard a few times after that first trip, it had been a long time.  I was pleasantly surprised, however, to find the Langham still standing and in its former glory at that.  Charming my way into a suite was easier than I hoped, and once settled I checked in with Michael.

“I’ve arrived,” I assured him I was safe and sound, impressing him with my accommodations.  “It looks -” I was in a different suite, but it was as opulent as the one I’d shared with Loki so long ago.  “Quite familiar.”  

“I’m sure it is,” he chuckled.  “When do you intend on speaking to Dr. Foster?”  

Sighing, I contemplated my options.  “I must do it soon,” I feared the time was growing close.  “I have her address in the phone, along with the GPS -” He’d shown me how to load the map and directions.  “Tomorrow I think,” it would give me a night to prepare myself.  “I hope I don’t frighten her.”  

“You,” he sounded shocked by the very idea of it.  “Frighten someone?”  A soft sound like another laugh came across the phone.  “Sigyn, you won’t frighten her.”

I hoped he was right. 

I had dinner in my room, and then a long warm bath.  Laying in bed, waiting for sleep to take me, I let my mind drift - and it took me to where I dared not go. Asgard and Loki’s cell.

“Sigyn,” he sounded - was he happy to see my ghoulish visage?  “You’ve been gone for so long, I thought -” He came closer and I drank in the sight of him like I was dying of thirst and he was water.  His hair was longer, wavy with curls - a little paler for lack of natural light, but the blue of his eyes was still the same.  

If I was dying for the sight of him, then he was just as hungry for my image.  Even as I must look like a ghost of the worst nightmare he could have conjured, his eyes roamed from the top of my head to the tips of my toes peeking out from beneath the hem of my shift.  

“I didn’t want to make your confinement more torturous, my love,” I wished I could touch him, but I feared that would do nothing more than cause me to vanish, and clearly he did as well.  “Seeing me in this form -” my eyes burned, hating that he was seeing a lie.  “I hate that you have THIS image.”  

“Sigyn,” he was squinting at me, as if he had seen something different.  “Darling, what did you do?”  

Tilting my head, I focused on him and how angry I was at the cloaking illusion that Frigga was forced to lay over me, should I dare visit him.  I felt it, the flickering of it.  “Loki?”  He nodded, his eyes widening.  “Is it leaving?”  I watched his mouth drop open.  Staring at him, I thought about how badly I wanted him to see ME, just ME, as I was and his eyes turned glassy and he was blinking away tears.  “Can you see me?”

“How?”  He breathed, his hands reaching out, but dropping before he could try to touch me.  Remembering that he could have no TRUE visitors in his cage.  “What magic is this?”  

I looked down, seeing the gown that I wore to bed in the hotel - free of blood and gore.  Shutting my eyes in relief, I opened them to see tears falling from my husband’s eyes.  “Oh, no.  Loki, please, don’t cry.”  I wanted so badly to reach for him, to hold him and explain.  Damn the distance separating us.  “Darling, look at me, please?”  

He was, but I needed him to SEE me.  “You’re dead, Sigyn, they told me - showed me the pick that pierced your heart.”  

I shook my head and opened my arms wide.  “No, Loki.  No.”  Licking my lips, so dry even in a dream.  “I didn’t.  I wouldn’t have.  Knowing you were alive, somewhere, I couldn’t have left you.  Ever.”  

I could see him trying to make sense of it.  Of me and what he was seeing, what I was saying.  “You aren’t HERE.”  I shook my head.  “Where are you?”  

“London.”  His eyes went wide.  “Odin banished me.” His eyes narrowed, but I rushed on.  “Stop, Loki, listen to me.”  Before he could let the rage take over, I had to get him to listen to me.  “I am going to find my way back to you, but you cannot let your anger get the best of you, do you hear me?”  His jaw had gone rigid and his nostrils narrow.  “Loki, my love, please?”  

“They told me you killed yourself, Sigyn.” He bit out, eyes flashing and jaw still tense.  “MOTHER had you looking like a nightmare of DEATH if you dared visit me, didn’t she?”  I sighed.  “And you want me to reign in my temper?”  

“Yes,” he stared at me as if I were the one who had gone mad.  “I want you to temper that anger and rage.  I want you to calm down.  I want you to think about something for me.” 

“What?”  It came out harsh, but then he sighed and his eyes softened.  “Sigyn, what do you want from me?”  

“I want you to think about what you’re willing to give up so we can be together.”  His eyes widened again.  “We lost one another, Loki, because we stopped making one another a priority.  And I need you to think about that while I find my way back.”  

“Anything,” he promised, but I shook my head.  “Anything,” he vowed. 

“I love you, Loki.”  Leaving was going to be so difficult now that he could see the real me.  

“And I love you, Sigyn.”  He was staring at me as if he wanted me to stay forever, but I couldn’t.  Not if I wanted to be able to touch him.  “Come back to me.”  

“I will.”  That was my vow, and my parting. 

[nathan-nibs]

Location: Corona Grace Hospital (Nibs’s room)

It was incredible how time could stretch out and slow down as if everything was a strange mixture that clouded the senses. The fight, the trip to the hospital after the beating, the questioning with the police... All things that happened that seemed far away while the gaze was lost by the only entertainment that a pristine and impersonal individual hospital room could offer without reaching the touch of warmth that could resemble a type of temporary alternative home, except for several photos and cards signed with balloons whose surface had typical phrases like 'Get well soon' or 'We miss you'. It was hard even to admit it, but Nibs missed the familiar yet overwhelming bedroom mess that he and Ty shared, it didn't matter if there were clothes everywhere or one could barely walk through it without stepping on something that creaked on the floor, that was his safe place. The food tray rested on the table without having been touched and its contents were cold enough to be passable to eat. Nibs would literally sell his soul for a steaming slice of pizza or a cold soda, or anything that didn't make him feel like a prisoner. Or at least they let him visit Tyler or Sawyer, the medics had only allowed him to hang out temporarily with Peter but that was the end of it. A glance at the pinkie made him remember that despite everything, of all the Lost boys he had been luckier or at least that was the opinion of the man dressed in hospital pajamas. "Fuck ... This isn't fair." A desire to scream and kick everything almost took hold of him except for the door that opened with a soft crack that dispelled bad thoughts for the moment, recognizing the familiar face and those expressive eyes that forced Nibs to adopt a more controlled attitude with a smile. "Hey lil 'birdie. How are you?" In one movement he sat up, extending his arm to point across the room and holding back a groan at the wounds on the body. "Welcome to my sweet prision, although I have nothing more to offer you than to chat." @wcndybird​

[sickah008]

1.

“You’re not okay and that’s okay you’re not obligated to be perfectly fine and that’s perfectly fine”

I saw this poem that had this. It inspired me to type this all out. As I lay here listening to the faint scratching of the record player hit its ends because I can’t get up to turn it off.

Lately days have been tougher than usual. I find myself saying that pretty frequently these days. Since COVID happened I’ve spent most of my nights awake. I find myself watching old videos and looking at old photos I have saved on my phone/laptop. Who I was before to who I am now is a complete flip. Don’t get me wrong I’m still the same person but I wouldn’t want to say my interests are different now... More of it’s this energy stopping me from doing everything I once did before. Nobody really knows who they are. The best way to describe what I’m trying to say is I feel lost while I’m already lost. I’ve been lost trying to find my way and then COVID happened and it just made me even more lost than I already was.

When I look at these pictures I see a small part of me being temporarily happy. Right now, it’s difficult and I don’t even know how to tell my friends. I’ve been hiding from everyone that I started smoking again. No matter how hard I try to kick this stupid habit it doesn’t go. Oh well. What’s worse is, I constantly remember the parties, kickbacks, clubs, concerts, barhopping, etc. that I used to partake in. My body craves to live in any of those moments. I could sit here and go down that path once again and struggle to come back from it or I can sit here and suffer. There’s no winning... Only one has that temporary feeling. The slightest inconvenience I want to drink. No, I’m not an alcoholic. Yes, I have a problem with drinking. Is there a difference? Yes. I sit here thinking about how from senior year constantly being plastered up until I entered therapy school. I turned my life around before it got any worse. I got the help I need, I was the fittest I’ve ever been, the healthiest, and for once it kinda felt like I was starting to find my way in life... for it to just completely fall apart.

There are so many people going through identity crisis’ and figuring out what to do next with their lives. So I shouldn’t sit here and complain and mope around about it. Which is why I’m constantly disappearing. Have I had a few drinks while typing this out. Maybe. Have I been laying on the floor because I don’t have energy to get on my bed. Yes. Is this a cry for help? Not even the slightest bit. I am breaking slowly each day and I don’t know how to stop it. I can feel myself getting deeper in this hole of emptiness and I don’t know how to get out of it. I’ve done it before. But why is it not working anymore? I’m exhausted. Having to hide behind a smile is even more exhausting. I’m exhausted but I’m still trying my very best. But I’m exhausted. Every night when I lay down I fed this weight, this boulder squish me.

The littlest things irritate me. The smallest details in the world haunt my brain. I’m constantly thinking of what I’m possibly fucking up for being in this funk. I don’t know what I’m saying anymore. I don’t even think I hit any of the points I originally wanted to write out but oh well. Maybe we’ll get it right next time.

[willddheartt]

Babylon: Neon Lights | C.H. Chapter Nine: Best Friend

“she is both hellfire and holy water, the flavour you taste depends on how you treat her”

It had been a love-hate relationship between them the entire time they’ve known one another. Nobody could explain, or pinpoint, the anger and hostility between Calum and Cherry every time they were together. At this point, their friends get concerned when there isn’t a passive-aggressive comment made or some type of glare exchanged. They met through mutual friends, who tried to set them up, saying they’re perfect for each other, leaving everyone astonished that something so perfect went so wrong.

DISCLAIMER: SOME PARTS MIGHT BE R RATED !!

Series warnings: Substances (alcohol & cigarettes), Anger (snappy comments), Smut

Series Masterlist

September 4th Labor Day weekend. Well not technically yet, but I didn’t have work for the last two days and Monday the store is closed. We all showed up at Michaels with coolers full of alcohol that would surely go home empty on Monday.  Where it was our first night and the weekend was still young the drinks were light but still enough to have most passed out by 12:00 PM. 

It was shocking how much the moonlight lit up Michael's kitchen as Calum and I sat on the floor, passing a spoon between the pair of us as we dug into a tub of chocolate ice cream.  “I’m not sure,” I shrugged, handing him the spoon, “I mean I know I don’t want to stay working the same job when I’m 40, but I feel stuck. I just don't know how I could get out, you know?” I asked, answering his question on if I was doing something I truly loved.  “It's easy to get out you know,” Calum said, “Sure it seems hard when you just think about it and before you do it. But once you’re actually out it's the best thing you’ll do,” He added   “What about you?” I asked, “Is this something you love doing?” He nodded, passing the spoon my way, “Sure it's crazy and being an online presence is stressful sometimes but I wouldn't trade it. The band is the best thing I ever did,” He spoke.  “How’s it feel knowing any of the fans would probably jump on the chance of being your friend? The legal ones,” I asked  “I think some of them just say that because they know a version of myself I want them to.” 

“Mmm, I have a good one,” Calum said holding his hand up as he talked, “Your passions, tell me about them.”  I shrugged, “I don't know, I don't like saying one thing is a passion or a hobby then having people expect me do those things,”  “Okay, then what do you do when you’re not with us, or when you’re alone?” Calum rephrased  “I make what some would like to call art, doodles and some poetry, but that is something I keep for myself, I don't ever share it. I like having my secrets, even from people close to me, its my way of staying myself. But I also take photos, sometimes if I need some extra cash, I’ll sell some prints or take photos for someone but that doesn't happen a lot. When money gets involved it feels more like a job than something I enjoy doing.” I explained, noticing how Calum’s dark brows knit together as he listened to what I was saying, nodding to indicate he got it all. “Your turn, what are your hobbies?” I asked turning his question on himself 

As Calum explained what he does in his free time, I realized neither of us knew that much about each other, and that we were just as deep as the other. There were different levels and layers. That of an onion or an ogre. 

Though I was paying attention and trying my hardest to keep my focus on his words, the dark abyss that was his eyes captivated me. In any lighting Calum's eyes looked almost blacker than any darkness night could come up with, but in the pale moonlight, you could faintly see the outline of his pupil in his iris. Naturally his eyes were beautiful, just like everything else about Calum, but tonight it was consuming, how beautiful his eyes were.

I fell so far into the dark pools that I almost missed his next question, “What was your high school experience like?”  I laughed at the question, “Really?” I asked.  Calum nodded, “I know you know mine, but I don’t know much about you in school and I want to,”  “Nobody knows about it, I don’t flaunt it. High school wasn’t an exciting experience for me and I’ve mostly left it behind. I changed everything about myself when I left, name, hair colour, everything. I was alone most of the time and spent way too much time thinking about leaving and getting out. Sleeping my teenage years away.”  “Now you have us, I think your high school self would be proud,” Calum smiled. I nodded, “I would be.” I chucked “Although, I’m still mad I never got to have the high school cliche of slow dancing with my boyfriend at a school dance,”  “You’ve never slow danced?” Calum asked, astounded  I nodded, “I didn’t go to dances.” 

Calum jumped up to his feet, holding his hand out to me, “I'm going to change that right now,” He said, pulling me up once I grabbed his hand.  “Now?” I asked, “But there no music,”  “There will be,” Calum said, pulling me into him as he started humming a slow song.  I wrapped my arms around his neck as he held my waist, humming close to my ear. Calum swayed us slowly from side to side as he slowly moved us in a circle. 

A few minutes later when Calum pulled back he smiled, “How was that?” He asked  “It was nice,” I smiled 

-

The entire weekend went by in a slow blur. I vaguely remembered things from the days, but few from the night. It was like a weekend long bender. I spent most days tipsy and smoking, Calum by my side doing the same. Violet left Sunday morning to spend the remainder of the weekend with Travis.  The 72 hours of drinking and laughs came to an end when Monday rolled around, leaving me bedridden with a terrible hangover. 

My skull felt like it was being gripped by the hands of a giant, one who was too friendly to crush it but who also wanted to cause temporary pain. When I stumbled into the apartment the first thing I did was draw the curtains shut before grabbing a bottle of water and debating the thought of taking more than the recommended amount of aspirin.  Sleeping most of Monday away. I didn’t even hear when Violet came home in the afternoon, or the countless messages that dinged on my phone with photos and videos from the weekend that was probably full of bad and stupid ideas. 

September 8th Thankfully, the hangover from hell only lasted a day and by  I had the afternoon, or closing, shift, leaving me folding up the clothes and cleaning up the store from the people in the morning. Something I didn’t mind in all honesty. 

As I hid away folding a pile of men's dress pants back in the dressing rooms, I kept my phone on me since the manager was never in for closing shifts.  Calum and I were talking my entire shift, laughing over the weekend, talking about what we were doing tonight and eventually coming up with pizza at his place after I got off. I smiled to myself, tucking my phone back in my pocket, knowing he didn’t have just pizza in mind. Since we had distinguished our friends with benefits type of relationship, I was over at his place almost every night but Wednesday and Friday. 

When I came into work at one, I was unable to cover the marks on my neck that were a memory of the weekend we just had, and everyone gave me hell for it. Thankfully the manager wasn’t in or I would have got it worse then I already did. Sure our friends knew about Calum and I but when Rylee from the shop saw the dark purple marks peeking up from the collar of my t-shirt and lost it, rapid firing multiple questions, much like Violet did but less personal towards the person who left them. 

Although my shift was only five hours it felt like nine. When I walked into Calum’s apartment, I dropped my purse at the door, kicking my shoes off and dramatically laid down on the couch.  “Long day?” He chuckled from the kitchen, as he brought the box of pizza and our drinks over to the table in the living room “You wouldn't even believe it,” I sighed, sitting up when Calum handed me a glass of soda. 

“You got a little something right, there.” He smirked, pointing to his neck  “Every cover up attempt I tried this morning failed so they stayed,” I laughed  “Boss say anything?”  I shook my head, “They’re normally not in for the afternoon shifts,”  “What I'm getting from that statement is, when you work in the afternoons and stay over we can spend more time cuddling.” Calum smirked  I laughed, “Sure, Cal,” 

The pizza box laid closed on the coffee table, having been finished long ago. Calum laid in between my legs as we watched t.v. I absentmindedly ran my fingers through his hair. Everything about this was not your traditional FWB scenario, we did more than fuck, most times he greets me with a kiss either to my cheek or by pressing one to my lips, and most mornings we cuddle. It's more than a recurring night stand. 

Calum turned over so he was low looking at me, a small smile still tugging at the corners of his lips, one that didn't seem to leave tonight.  “Sup?” I asked softly  “Nothin,” He smiled, “You’re pretty though,”  “So are you,” I replied, bringing the hand that was running through his hair down to hold his chin, bringing him up so I could peck his lips. 

One kiss turned into another, and then another until we were making out on the couch. Calum sat back, pulling me to sit up with him as he pulled me onto his lap. My hands roamed over his body, from his shoulders down his chest, and under his shirt. Once I started tugging on the hem of his shirt and slowly pushing it up, Calum pulled away quickly to remove the article of clothing, quickly connecting our lips back and slipping his tongue in my mouth. 

One kiss, two kiss, red kiss, blue kiss, and my shirt had come off along with my jeans. His hands came down to the waistband of my underwear, he smiled into the kiss against my neck once he noticed the little bat print, looking up at me, “Batman?”  I nodded, with a sheepish smile as a slight blush crept up onto my cheeks, up until this point he had only seen my nice lacy panties.  “Cute,” Calum mumbled before capturing my lips again, slipping a hand past the waistband of my batman underwear, chuckling when an involuntary squeak of surprise slips past my lips when his fingers swiped at my heat.  “Love catching you off guard,” He teased as I tugged his bottom lip between my teeth  “Listen, I know you’re going for slow here but could you get on with it?” I breathed out.  “Is that your way of asking for me to get on with it and fuck you?” Calum laughed as I nodded, sucking on the side of his neck.

[kittinoir]

Echoes of You ch. 16

Read on Ao3

White noise.

That was all Adrien had seen or heard over the past five days. He missed fencing lessons, Chinese lessons, homework. He’d miss modelling appointments if his bodyguard wasn’t there to escort him. He didn’t know how those went. He barely remembered them once he was home. Plagg called it shock. He didn’t care.

It had been a week since she’d come back, showing up much like she had the first time he’d seen her: falling out of the sky. Sorry I’m late, Kitty.

Hope had not claimed him quietly. It had torn through his chest so violently it had brought him to tears for the third time since this nightmare had started. For a moment he’d thought the senti-monster had gotten him and he had confused Red for his Lady.

But no, it had really been her. He’d stared at her, unable to believe she was real, and realized, despite how hard he’d clung to her memory, how much had faded. The exact shade of her eyes with violet flecks no camera could capture. The intelligence in them that always drew him in. The beauty of her smile, the effortlessness of her grace. 

In that moment, it had all turned to dust in the wind. He didn’t care that she’d left him. He didn’t care that he’d made a mistake. He didn’t care that he’d been struggling without her. He didn’t care about any of it. She was back. And he felt like he’d finally gotten a piece of himself back, too. 

And then she’d disappeared again. He’d been confused, but had waited for her to swing by his window or leave a message. It never came. He tried sending her one, but there was no response. Two days passed, and another akuma attacked. 

He’d arrived eagerly. By then he assumed her memories just hadn’t returned. That was fine. He’d been searching for a solution, and while he hadn’t found one yet, he was eager to begin creating new ones. He was prepared, he told himself, for the event her memories never returned. It hurt, but it was a small price to pay for this miracle. Besides, he wasn’t giving up yet.

But when Ladybug had joined him minutes later, it wasn’t his Lady behind the mask. The nightmare returned, worse this time as the battled the akuma. Horror distracted him and almost cost them everything as Red explained a temporary holder had stood-in for her the other day. When he’d demanded to know who, she’d explained she didn’t know. Tikki had simply said to trust her and left with the earrings, returning less than three hours later with the jewels.

He’d almost given up then. He’d almost dropped his baton and thrown his ring down at the akuma’s feet. For a moment he did stop, his fingers loose on the cool metal. It was too much. All of it was too much for one person to bear. If Chat Noir’s heart was irreparably broken, then he didn’t want to be Chat Noir anymore.

Only interception from a nearby civilian had saved him from the akuma. It was a harsh reminder but one he needed. His Lady wasn’t the only person he was fighting for, wasn’t the only one with something to lose if he faltered again. 

At least they’d learned some things. One, this plan was one his Lady and Tikki had come up with together. And two, wearing the Miraculous, becoming Ladybug, wasn’t enough to trigger her memories. He’d noted those things, filed them away, and then sunk into a river of despair from which he couldn’t save himself. The pain of her literally holding her just for her to slip away again was too great. He couldn’t fight it.

So he’d stopped trying.

“Dude.”

Adrien blinked, looking over at Nino, who was staring pointedly at Mme. Bustier. “Mm?

“I asked if you would take Miss Bourgeois her homework today, Mr. Agreste,” their teacher repeated. “If you have the time?”

Chloe. That name finally stirred some feeling in him. Betrayal. Anger. Disappointment. He grabbed onto them like a lifeline. Anything was better than this numbness. “Sure.”

He had to get a grip. He’d always tried to see the best in everyone and everything, to find the silver lining. It had become infinitely more important since Hawkmoth had appeared. And if he couldn’t get it together, it would only be a matter of time until an akuma floated through his window with his name on it. 

It changed nothing, he decided as he belatedly shoved his books into his bag, only realizing the day was truly over as his classmates began to leave. What happened wasn’t his Lady’s fault. It was Tikki’s. She could have picked someone else, anyone else. Part of him knew there were probably extenuating circumstances that couldn’t be avoided. It was certainly the first time a sent-monster had accompanied an akuma in some time, and he’d been unable to use his cataclysm. Perhaps Tikki had panicked, trusting his Lady’s instincts to be enough to save them both - which they had. Could he even be angry?

Yes, he decided, standing and accepting Chloe’s homework from Mme. Bustier. He could. Tikki could have told her to wait, or to come back. Tikki could have changed it all.

But had anything really changed? No. Tikki probably knew that, too. That was what the letter had said, hadn’t it. ‘Once it’s safe’. Hawkmoth had a copy of the book, too. Perhaps their nemesis had found what he’d been unable to do: a way to restore lost memories. 

It didn’t matter. It was all speculation. He knew his Lady would never do anything to hurt him. He knew what had happened wouldn’t have been her choice, if she knew what it would have meant. It didn’t make it hurt any less. If anything it hurt more, to see face to face just how much he had lost.

“Um…Adrien?”

Marinette’s voice jerked Adrien back to the empty classroom. He realized he’d been staring at his desk, not seeing it. Even Nino had left. He’d probably said goodbye and he hadn’t even heard him.

“Hey, Marinette,” Adrien said. His voice came out rusty with disuse. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken more than two words to anyone. Probably not at all in the past five days.

His classmate was peeking up at him from under her lashes as she fiddled with something in her hand. “I was going to ask you if you were ok,” she said, “But that would be dumb, because I can tell something’s wrong. We all can.” She finally looked up at him. “We’re all worried about you. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I just wanted to let you know that we’re here for you, and… and I made this for you.”

She held out the small package she’d been fidgeting with. Adrien took it, surprised, and pulled the pale pink ribbon to open the gift. Inside was a small quilted book. It smelled like lavender and vanilla - like Marinette. When he opened it, he discovered it was a sort of photo album, filled with pictures of him with all his friends. Him and Nino goofing off, him and Kim and Max playing video games, him and Juleka modelling together. The only one missing was…

“You’re not in any of these,” he said, looking up.

Marinette shrugged. “I kinda ran out of room,” she explained. “There were so many great photos to choose from, and - ”

“Will you bring one so I can add it?” Adrien asked, squeezing the little book. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten, Marinette, but it needs a picture of my best friend.”

“Your best…” Marinette trailed off, staring up at him. “Me?”

Adrien nodded. He didn’t know when it had happened, or how, considering how nervous his celebrity seemed to make her, but when he needed someone, Marinette was the person he thought of first. When he needed advice, Marinette was the one he turned to. When he needed a break, Marinette’s balcony was the one he ended up on.

“Why don’t we take a picture right now?” Adrien suggested as the inspiration nudged him. “And then I’ll add it to the book.”

“Um, sure,” Marinette said with a grin. “I’ll, um, try to find another protective sheet thingy for it.”

“Deal,” Adrien said, pulling out his phone. He opened up the camera, then wrapped an arm around Marinette’s shoulders and pulled her close. After a moment, she placed an arm around his waist as well. He tried not to shudder at the contact, tried to suppress the memories that surged up from the last time he’d been this close to someone - to her. He’d promised himself he’d never let her slip away, never let himself lose her again, only for her to disappear like smoke on the wind.

But Marinette was real, he told himself. She was here, and she wasn’t going to disappear. He could feel her warmth through his shirt, could smell the same lavender and vanilla coming from her.

As though she could sense the anguish rolling off him in waves, Marinette twisted, wrapping both her arms around him in a tight hug. It was almost enough to trigger more tears, but he swallowed them. He’d cried enough. It was time to look to the future.

“Thank you, Marinette,” Adrien whispered. He turned his face, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he took the photo. He wanted to remember this feeling after it had passed, to be able to pull this photo out the next time he felt like crying and remember there was still love to be had if he was willing to accept it.

Marinette dropped her arms and stepped back, as though she were overwhelmed as well. “You’re welcome,” she said quickly. “Um, out did it turn how?”

Adrien chuckled, opening up the photo. It was a little off-centre, a little crooked. It was perfect. “I love it,” he said. “It’s the perfect addition.”

“Yeah, you’re perfect,” Marinette said softly as she looked over his shoulder. “I mean, it’s perfect. Could you maybe…send it to me? So I can have a picture with my best friend, too?”

“Deal,” Adrien said, already sending it over. “Thank you, Marinette. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, beaming. “And…if you want, I can take Chloe her stuff.”

Adrien blinked. He’d forgotten all about Chloe. “I don’t mind,” he said, shouldering his bag. “It’ll just be a quick trip.” And the Grand Palais was on his patrol route. He might as well start there. He’d be doing several laps anyway.

“Want company?” Marinette offered.

He did, he realized. He wanted to ask her along more than anything, wanted to bring her along and show her his Paris, to spend the evening with a friend, to lose himself in Marinette until he could blot out his Lady and his impossible quest altogether. Just for one night.

But he knew, even as his brain raced ahead to the logistics between ‘Adrien’ and ‘Chat Noir, that he couldn’t. That it wouldn’t be just one night or one time. He knew he could fall in love with her, if he let himself forget.

It would be easy. So incredibly easy. And selfish.

“Thanks,” Adrien said, “But it’s ok. I’m…I’ll be ok.”

“Ok,” Marinette said, adjusting her bag. “There’s always something for you at the bakery if you change your mind.” She left with a wave, and Adrien watched her go, waiting until he knew she was too far to chase after her to head down to his waiting car.

“To the Grand Palais,” Adrien instructed as he strapped in. His bodyguard raised and eyebrow but didn’t say anything as he turned onto the busy street. The trip was quick, and they arrived sooner than Adrien would have liked. He grabbed his bag. “I’m going to be working with Chloe for a while. You should head back.”

His bodyguard frowned.

“Group project,” Adrien explained. “Wasn’t my choice. Her driver will give me a ride back.”

His bodyguard finally nodded and popped the locks on the door. Adrien waited until he drove away to head into the hotel. He’d convinced himself it was no big deal, but the truth was that it was. Chloe had been his first friend, his oldest friend. He’d never imaged she was capable of siding with Hawkmoth. He knew she was no saint, but he hadn’t thought she’d betray them like that.

He’d been to Chloe’s several times, both as Adrien and as Chat Noir, but it was different this time. Even behind the mask, it had always felt like a second home. Now he felt like a stranger. He didn’t know her any more. Maybe he never had.

“It’s unlocked,” Chloe called when he knocked on the door. 

Adrien took a deep breath and opened the door.

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t Chloe in the middle of her spacious room, swathed in yards and yards of black and yellow bridal satin with pins pressed between her lips as she attempted something like draping. It took him a minute to realize his assumption had been right - she was basing her design project on herself. Some things never did change. 

“Maybe you misread the assignment, Chloe,” Adrien said coolly. “You’re supposed to design something based off one of the heroes, not the villains.”

She barely spared him a glance, and rolled her eyes when she did. “I can accept that you can’t forgive what I did,” she managed around the pins, “But if I wanted to be verbally abused, I would have just gone to school.”

“Is that why you haven’t been all week?” Adrien asked, stepping further into the room. “Avoiding everyone?”

“Tempting,” Chloe said, sticking her mannequin with a pin, “But no. I’ve been dreadfully ill. Today’s the first day I’ve been able to get out of bed. You all get to see my lovely face monday morning, don’t you worry.”

“About you?” Adrien said, dropping into a tufted chair and crossing his long legs. “I didn’t think I had to.”

“Well then I guess we were both wrong,” Chloe said, shoving her last pin into a fold of black satin. She stilled, one hand full of fabric, the other on the shoulder of her dressform, staring at it as though she could see in her design everything Queen Bee was supposed to have been, and everything it wasn’t.

“I’m sorry,” she said, finally looking at him. “I…I made a mistake. Maybe the worst mistake of my life. If I could change the past, I would, but I can’t. I regret the choices I made. They were mean, and cruel, and selfish, and I have no excuses.  I’m sorry, Adrien. I understand that we’ll probably never be friends again, and you may never be able to accept my apology, but you still deserve to hear one.”

Adrien stilled, staring at his former friend as though he could still see pieces of her through the impenetrable wall that had gone up in the last year. “That doesn’t sound like the Chloe I know.”

“I’m trying something different,” Chloe said, adjusting a tuck, “Since that actually didn’t go so well for me.”

Logic and love warred in Adrien’s head. Logic wanted him to throw Chloe’s homework at her feet, tell her it was too late, and march up to the roof to get started on his patrol. Love had latched onto the hope that had taken advantage of his surprise and stolen in when he wasn’t looking.

Maybe he was still raw from losing his Lady. Maybe Marinette’s kindness had made him softer. Maybe, after everything, he needed something to be easy and good. Maybe he just needed to feel like he could fix something, anything at all. Maybe he just needed something to be normal again.

Maybe he just needed to know that forgiveness was possible. To know he was capable of giving it, and to hope that, when the time came, he was worthy of receiving it.

“Do you mean it?” Adrien asked quietly. His knuckles had gone white, wrapped around the arms of the chair. “Sincerely?”

Chloe looked up into his face, unflinching. “More than anything in my life. Probably more than anything I ever will.”

Adrien took a breath. Held it. Then let it go. Let it all go. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He offered a cautious half-smile. “Okay. I accept.”

Chloe bit her lip and ducked her head so he couldn’t see her face. “Okay. Thank you, Adrien. That…it means a lot to me. I know that I…I crossed a lot of boundaries, so we’ll just take it slow, and you can let me know where they are?”

“Sounds fair to me,” Adrien said. Finally, finally, something felt right again. Chloe shot him a grin over the mannequin’s shoulder and he returned it, reaching for his bag. “By the way, I actually came by to drop of… what was that?”

Chloe frowned. “What was that?”

“The light’s just…” Adrien squinted at the lights as they flickered again. He wouldn’t have noticed normally, except it never should have happened in the hotel.

“Adrien,” Chloe said, abruptly striding over to him. “You need to get out of here. Now.”

“What?” Adrien pushed back, shocked. “What are you talking about.”

“Something’s wrong,” she said, glaring around the room. “Can you feel it?”

He could, actually, but he didn’t know Chloe could, too. 

“Ok,” he said, letting her steer him towards the door. If the hall was empty, he could transform and swing in through the window in seconds. If not, the elevator was just a few feet away.

They hadn’t taken three steps, however, when a large shadow pooled in front of the door, a tiny charm hovering in its centre. Then it grew teeth. Sharp teeth.

“Senti-monster,” they said at the same time. They glanced at each other, momentarily surprised, then back-peddled as the creature began to ooze towards them, slow but steady. The razor sharp fangs glinted in the light, but aside from the teeth, it remained half-corporeal, mostly shadow.

One of his worst fears was coming true. He was trapped with no where to go. Chat Noir could save them, but then Chloe and Hawkmoth would learn his identity. His Lady’s sacrifice would be for nothing.

“In here,” Chloe said, yanking him into the bathroom. She slammed the door shut behind them, locking it.

“Something tells me that’s not going to stop it,” Adrien said. Sure enough, the shadows at the bottom of the door were beginning to undulate and coalesce. 

“I don’t disagree with you,” Chloe said. “Dammit. I was really hoping to keep it a secret this time. Tikki, spots on!”

Before he could even process what was happening, Adrien saw a red blur pop out of Chloe’s sweater and disappear into a pair of familiar black studs he hadn’t even noticed she’d been wearing.

All Adrien could do was watch through the pink light as the mask blazed across his friend’s eyes. All this time. All these weeks of ignoring her, of everyone shunning her. The taunts, the comments, the snide remarks. She’d been the one who stepped in for his Lady. She’d been saving all of them. And Ladybug had chosen her to do it.

“You? You’re - ”

“A temporary situation,” Red said, turning to the window. “I don’t think I need to tell you, but obviously this stays between us.” She popped it open and leveraged herself onto the sill before glancing back down at him. “If I had another choice, I would’t have dragged you into this, but Adrien, there are things going on right now that you don’t understand. I know you must be confused, but I need you to trust me.”

“I…I do.” What? What? He was so far away from what she was saying right now he hadn’t even heard her. He was still trying to process the fact that he’d been fighting side by side with Chloe for weeks and hadn’t even known.

“I’ll be back in a second,” Red said, unslinging the yo-yo from around her waist. “Stay here.”

Adrien glanced at the door where a shadow was starting to rise up. He could already see a tooth. He turned to say as much to Red, but she’d already disappeared.

“Well, I never would have predicted that.” Plagg poked his head over Adrien’s collar but ducked when he saw the centi-monster shaping up. “Why would Ladybug ever choose her?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Adrien grunted as he grabbed a broom from the closet.

“Time for Chat Noir to arrive?” Plagg suggested.

“I’d agree,” Adrien said, swinging the broom. “Shame about the audience.” The bristle’s passed right through the monster like it wasn’t even there. The teeth parted and a hissing noise escaped. It was laughing, he realized.

The bathroom door suddenly banged open and Red was there, a lucky charm already in hand. “When I distract it, run,” she said. And then she lunged at the monster.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Adrien said, leaping past her.

Except he didn’t leave. Instead, he ran to the closet. With or without Chat Noir, he was still Red’s partner. He snatched up shoes by the pair and began heaving them at the senti-monster. Even without the mask, his aim was pretty good.

The monster snarled, turning on him. It had gotten faster, Adrien realized. And bigger. Much bigger. 

He dove to the side as the monster pounced for him. He rolled, his shoulder stinging icy cold where the shadows brushed him. 

“When I said run, I meant away,” Red said, hauling him up by his bad arm. He hissed at the pain, and both of them were surprised when her hand came away wet. “That is…decidedly more deadly than I’m used to.”

Adrien heard the chuckle before he saw the explosion, but it wasn’t as far behind as he hoped. He tackled Red just in time, knocking her to the floor as the blast sent shrapnel whistling over their heads.

“My…closet…” Red whispered, staring over his shoulder. “My closet!”

Adrien followed her gaze. Sure enough, a gaping hole leading straight down to the Parisian streets was letting a nice breeze in where her closet had once stood. The sent-monster was no where to be found, but the charred remains of the charm that had been floating in its centre and an equally scorched feather lay dead-centre of the blast radius.

“I guess you won’t have to use that,” Adrien groaned, nodding at the spotted butterfly-catcher. “How’s that for lucky?”

“Oh, yeah,” Red said, staggering to her feet. “I sure feel real lucky right now!”

“The Lucky Charm will fix it,” Adrien said, pulling himself up. He paused for a moment as she sifted through the remnants of her wardrobe, as though his idea were just occurring to him. “Your suit changed. It didn’t look like this last weekend?”

“What?” She gasped as what used to be a Louboutin crumbled in her fingers. 

“Last weekend with that monster that stole everyone’s voices.” Adrien tried not to flinch as the memories of that day swirled up. “You looked different. I, um, saw it on Alya’s blog.”

“I couldn’t make it to that,” Red said as though it were just some party that had clashed with a birthday. “Sick, remember? That’s actually why I couldn’t make it to school. Every time I started to get better and akuma would attack and it’d wear me right back out. If I fail this semester I am so suing Hawkmoth for damages.”

“So that wasn’t you?” Adrien asked innocently.

“Don’t even try it, Agreste,” Red said, finally looking at him. “I don’t know who it was, and even if I did, I couldn’t tell you. All I know is Tikki took the Miraculous to someone else to stand in, and if it was who I think it was… well. I can’t say anything else.”

“You said this was a temporary situation,” he pressed unable to drop it. “Does that mean…?”

“Seriously, Adrien,” Red said, giving him her full attention. “Something’s wrong, ok? With the heroes. I don’t know what, just that Ladybug has this top secret mission or something. I don’t know. I didn’t get the details, and honestly, I can’t blame her for not telling me. I’m holding onto her Miraculous just until she gets back. That’s it. That’s the whole story. She didn’t even give them to me herself, so that is literally the whole story, okay?”

“Okay.” Adrien made his way over to his bag and pulled out her homework, dropping it on the chair. “Your secret is safe with me. Are you going to be ok here?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Red said, waving him off. “The miracle cure will fix this whole mess, I just cannot believe that mangy cat! And he doesn’t even show his face. Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

“Alright, Chlo,” Adrien said, unable to completely hide a grin as he opened the door. “Catch you later.”

He slipped out the door as she reached for the unused Lucky Charm. Had he glanced back, he might have noticed the suspicious look she threw his way, but he didn’t, and the door slipped shut just as the Ladybugs began to fix everything.

“I don’t know if I should hug you or only give you kraft singles for a week,” Adrien said once he was in an elevator on his way to the roof. “That was incredibly dangerous of you.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Plagg gasped, swirling out of Adrien’s pocket. “Besides, I’ve been practicing! It only spread down five floors! And, if you’ll recall, I did promise to cataclysm everything she loves.”

Adrien’s retort died on the tip of his tongue. After all, how could he argue with that. Promise made; promise kept.

“Fair enough,” Adrien finally said as they approached the roof. “Okay, you get out of it this time. Plagg, claws out!”

[omg-baeyoung-baeran]

Maybe I Should Resign: Chapter 2

Not a single person inside the company got past the thorough investigation, yet all the results they got were negative. It was as if the document just suddenly disappeared on its own without a trace. The only evidence in hand proving it was truly stolen was the loop video they found a week ago, resulting in several employees getting fired due to their inexcusable poor performance.

Jumin twirled the pen around his fingers. “Things have not been going on smoothly, I presume?” He stared at the fidgeting man sitting across him.

“We apologize, Mr. Han, but this thief is well-prepared and is quite knowledgeable in hacking to have accessed the system. The only thing we can suggest now is investigation of those who visited the company and those employees that have left the company, from the time the chairman placed it in drawer 7 until the date the document was found missing.”

A suffocating aura surrounded the miserable man while an intimidating silence filled the entire room. Anyone who was familiar with the chairman and his son knew how the latter hated inconvenience with a passion. Jumin Han may be a patient man, but issues extending beyond his expected time of resolve have always been aggravating to his tolerance.

Heaving a sigh of resignation, he waved the employee away. “I want it done three days from now. Provide me a list of possible suspects. Those who get cleared must be reconfirmed thrice, and I expect a complete report about the suspects Tuesday next week. Is everything clear?”

“Yes, Mr. Han.”

As the man’s retreating figure exited the door, his attention shifted to the cat stamp on his desk, staring at him with its big, cartoon-like golden eyes. Things had been hectic lately that he forgot he placed it there. “How fortunate… toys have no worries,” he said, lids drooping from exhaustion.

But what is life to be lifeless?

Unlike objects, he gets to experience life as a social being, and it is freedom which gives life a pleasant taste. It is natural for men to seek freedom when they are under extreme limiting control,  since they are blessed with free will; however, it is unnatural for men to seek too much liberation for it causes chaos. There is such a thing as greed for freedom, but there is no such thing as peaceful freedom without restraint; balance is important.

He considered himself to be fairly balanced….

But what is this strange yearning?

“I must be missing Elizabeth the Third.” He rested his cheek on the back of his hand, grabbing the cat stamp with his other and stamping it on a scratch paper. To his surprise, the cat opened its mouth—a message rolling out of its tongue.

“You’re special! Stay happy!”

He scoffed. It was undeniable. The message was just cringeworthy.

Still, for some reason, a small smile made its way to his lips.

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0

She was a person of mistake. From touching the iron—when her mother told her not to during her younger days—to quitting a job because of a huge mistake–quitting the job itself was a huge mistake too. Apparently, even smaller jobs do not come easily as well. A long, devastated sigh escaped her pinkish lips.

“I’m sorry, Grandmother, to leave you this soon… but I don’t want to burden you when I’m jobless,” she sobbed dramatically, earning her a chuckle from the elder woman.

“Don’t be sorry now. Your mother needs you at home for sure, so you’re actually doing her a favour coming back.”

“But I need to earn for the family.”

“I know, my dear. But it seems like fate is leading you back home. Everything will eventually pass just as this problem of yours. You’ve gone through so many difficulties before, so why not believe you’ll overcome this too in time?”

Hannah pouted at her grandmother. “I just want to be able to provide enough for my family… I want them to live comfortably,” she grumbled, “Mom has already made a lot of sacrifices for us, and I just want to be able to provide for them, so she could get the chance to use her money and time to spend it on things she wants.”

“Your mother is spending her money and time on things she loves… or rather ‘people’ she loves.”

This made her look up from the ground and gaze at her grandmother’s gentle eyes. She may not have the luck to enjoy luxurious things in life, but she has the luxury of a loving family… and to her, that is more special than what all precious stones can offer. With teary eyes, Hannah stood up from the couch and gave her a loving embrace.

“I’ll miss you.” Those words left her with a smack on the head.

“I’m old but don’t talk like I’m running out of time!”

She left to go back home to her little town the following day…

...unaware of the man in black who came to visit the humble abode later.

Coming back home, she felt the wind brushing against her cheeks; the memories of her past greeted her along with it. It was a small town, so people were fairly acquainted with one another. It would have been pleasant to know everyone in the neighbourhood, but because of the small population, gossips tend to spread like wildfire. Everyone was into each other’s business, and it can be utterly frustrating. 

“Sister!” Two kids called from afar, one with chin-length blonde hair and blue eyes, while the other having red hair and green eyes. Before she could even prepare for it, two small bodies crashed against her, their laughter filling her ears.

“We missed you!” Sana, the blonde, squealed and wrapped her arms more tightly around her waist.

“Hey! Sis can’t breathe!” Riri, the redhead, pulled their younger sister away from the breathless brunette. “She just arrived and you’re already killing her.”

The two kids continued to bicker in front of her, but what caught her eye was their approaching mother slowly making her way towards them.

“Sana, Riri, come here and let your sister rest inside. You can disturb her when she has fully settled.”

The whines from the two made her giggle. They had not changed since the last time she was home. She ruffled their hair and led them back into their home, their mother walking closely behind.

People turned their heads to their direction, accompanied by whispers she could barely hear. It was an attention a family with different appearances would garner. She thought she might get used to it, though they were proving it to be difficult.

A crestfallen look marred her face. “Sorry, Mom,” she started, “I lost my job.”

There was a pause. Hannah hung her head down, too ashamed to face her mother who was already struggling to make ends meet.

They continued to walk but no one dared to speak, until her mother let out a heavy sigh.

“I don’t know why you’re wearing such a long face. I’m just happy you safely returned home and well. You can always get another job, Hun. Always have hope." The older woman placed a comforting hand on her daughter’s back. “We’ve been struggling for a long time, but look at us… we’re still alive till this day. That should be enough to give us hope, don’t you think?”

Hannah reluctantly nodded, wrapping her arm around her mother’s waist.

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0

“She’s not there?”

“Yes. The address written is a temporary address when she was working here, Mr. Han.”

“Where is her current location?”

He scrutinized the photo on the top right corner of the file. The lady in the photo had long brown hair and ash brown eyes. Her skin held a pale complexion but vibrant with life. He cannot recall a time he ever saw her around, but he can vaguely remember the HR manager presenting him details concerning the new recruits back then.

“Odd,” he remarked. “She left just a few days prior to the time we discovered that the document was missing.”

“We will perform the inspection today if you wish.”

He raised his hand which silenced the man before him. “No,” he commanded, his tone holding absolute certainty. “I will personally handle this. You’ve been away from your task for too long. Return to your stations.”

Just like that, they were dismissed.

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0

Hannah paused, then rested her palms against her back. She bent backwards, going lower until she heard a few pops. Five hours of having her back hunched forward put considerable strain on her bones that she sometimes considered herself as a 24-year old with the back pain of a 90-year old.

Washing other people’s laundry traditionally is so damn hard… I wish we had a washing machine to do this.

From the corner of her eye, four middle-aged women were gathered together, tirelessly speaking in hushed tones among themselves.

“I sometimes pity that girl.”

“What’s there to pity? It’s justified karma!” The woman huffed, fanning herself with a piece of cardboard. “You see, if her mother wasn’t such a tramp who slept around with men, then their lives would not be like that.”

“You’re right. Poor girls… suffering because of their whore of a mother.”

Knuckles slowly turned white as she furiously scrubbed the cloth between her fists, even when the stains had faded and all. She vowed to never curse out loud as it would set a bad example for Sana and Riri.

“I heard she got pregnant with her eldest...  Ha… Han... what’s her name again?”

“Hannah!”

“Ah, yes! She got pregnant with Hannah when she was still in high school.”

“Really?” The woman’s face contorted into a grimace.

“Mm-hmm! That’s why she never finished high school!”

Damn you all.

“Her daughter seems to be following in her footsteps, though. She never finished school too, no?”

Excuse you! Get your facts straight! I graduated from high school but I didn’t go to college!

With Sana and Riri not around, she could scream profanities that would put even the most vulgar mouths to shame.

“And they even have different fathers!” 

Jeez. Why bother whispering when I could hear every insult?

“A pretty face won’t hide her utter lack of breeding.”

A little louder! I don’t think the people in the back heard you!

Her imagination showed her the best way to swat the wet cloth on to their faces, yet she chose to clench her jaw instead and hunched lower, twisting the wet shirt with all her might. The onslaught of tears that threatened to spill stung her eyes and slowly blurred her vision.

No. Not in front of them.

For the next hour, Hannah had to turn a blind eye to their gossip, lest she be fired due to misdemeanor. She shifted her attention from them to the next batch of laundry on her left.

Why do they keep assuming the worst out of us? They don’t know the whole story!

When they finally exited the place, Hannah released the shirt with much force back in the basin, the impact causing the frothy water to splatter against her face.

A small whimper escaped from her mouth, yet she managed to hold back her tears.

She hated her small town; she hated everyone in it. If it were not for her family, she would never set foot in that place ever again. But alas, the world would be unbalanced if everyone got what they wanted.

0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0

“I’m home!”

As soon as Hannah announced her arrival, she placed her slippers on the indiscernible shoe rack. She was careful not to step on the holes where wooden floorboards used to be. So far, its state was the same as the last time she visited. There was nothing to be cautious about.

After all, she had every crooked floorboard committed to memory—

“Ah!” she screeched, her heart stopping from the unforeseen mishap. “SANA! RIRI! WHAT’S THIS?”

“It was Riri!”

Hannah sucked in a huge breath and bellowed, “RIRI!”

Just in time, Riri got out of the bathroom. “Oh, sis, welcome home.”

“Yeah, it was a very warm welcome. Care to explain this?” She pulled her foot out and pointed at the hole where it just fell into.

“Sorry, it gave off when I threw my socks there.” The young redhead scratched her cheek. “I think the wood was ready to shatter anyway. Even the weight of a spirit can break that part of the floor.”

As much as Hannah loved her younger sisters, they could sometimes get on her nerves.

Well, we wouldn’t be sisters if no one annoyed each other.

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“Hannah, you’re done already?”

“Yeah,” she answered after drinking a bottle of fresh milk she got for free from the old lady she often helped crossing the streets. “Want this? I’m already full.”

Upon offering the partly-consumed bottle of milk, Riri and Sana jumped from glee, only to argue who was getting a bigger portion from it.

Honestly, she could greedily gulp that milk on her own, but fresh milk rarely comes into their lives. Whenever she got the chance to be lucky, she felt responsible to share the things she gained with her sisters… no matter how small the portion was left for her. They were helpless children in a twisted world.

It’s not that she never saw the brighter side—she and her family were together and in good health; they at least had food on the table… that should be enough, right?

Right?

Tomorrow would be the same as any other day; her mother would rise earlier than the roosters’ crows, prepare breakfast, bathe, then go to work.

Working 12 hours a day with only a cracker and bottle of water to get her through…

… Hannah could not help but feel they deserved more.

I don’t need to be filthy rich. Just an average life would do!

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Another day, another muscle sore….

Something was not right.

High-pitched shouts and boisterous laughters roused Hannah from her shallow slumber. She grabbed the pillow underneath her head, then pressed it over her ear to block out the noise, but to no avail.

What is it now?

She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, then got out of bed. Sluggishly, she dragged herself out of the bedroom.

As she got out, the suspicious feeling that something was off came once again. She was not greeted by the usual scene of Riri and Sana running around.

Her eyes scanned the shabby living room, then stopped at the front door that was left ajar.

Taking brisk steps towards it, she could make out not only her sisters’ voices…

“Go away! Or I’ll call my sister!”

“Oohh, I’m scared! You hear that? She’ll call her sister!” 

She pulled the door wide open, “Sana! Riri!”

Their mockery came into an abrupt halt when she entered the scene.

Riri stood in front of a crying Sana, shielding her from a group of grown men.

She felt a vein pop upon seeing the shameless display of immaturity, “Stop that!”

Upon seeing their eldest sister, Sana sniffled, rubbing her eyes as she ran towards her.

“Sana!” Hannah crouched to the young blonde’s height. “Are you alright? Did they do something to you?” She took Sana’s arms and scanned her for any injury. 

Fortunately, Sana was physically unharmed.

Gritting her teeth, Hannah stood and glared at the group of grown men acting like 10-year olds.

An insult to 10-year olds all over the world. Being middle-class does not give you the right to step on us!

“Have you lost your minds? She’s just a child! If it’s a fight you want, then sorry. We can’t entertain you.” She faced her two sisters, resting her hands against their backs and urging them towards the front door. “Sana, Riri, let’s go back inside.”

“Aaw, you won’t entertain us? But that’s what your slutty mother does, right? Right?”

The buffoons roared with laughter, nudging and high-fiving each other as though they were a bunch of elementary schoolboys.

Calm down, Hannah. They’ll eventually go tired. Don’t stoop down to their level.

“Stop pretending to be a good girl! You’re just like your mother, I bet!”

Hannah ignored them, lightly pushing Sana and Riri into their house. “Get inside.”

“Aaw, but we were having so much fun! Let them stay! I’m sure your sisters would grow up to be just like you two! Ah, can’t wait ‘til they turn 18—”

“Shut up!”

She snapped her head at their direction. They could hurl insults at her all day, but she will never allow anyone to to treat her family like trash, especially her baby sisters.

“Shut up?” The burliest of the group stepped forward. “Why? I was only speaking the truth! You know what they say—the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

She glared daggers at him. “Is that the best you can do? Did you pay your goons to laugh at your dumb joke? Either that or you guys need to work on your sense of humour.”

His face inched closer to hers. She turned her face away from him, nose scrunching as the warmth of his sour breath hit her face. The calloused finger caressing her skin churned her stomach, prompting her to slap his finger away.

The rumours about him were true—he does not take rejection well.

He cupped her chin, pressing his fingers harder against her cheeks. “Well, at least you’re pretty. You want money, right? Right?” Nails dirtied with grime dug themselves deeper into her skin, she was sure it would leave a mark.

The ruckus brought about a crowd of familiar faces surrounding them.

“Come to my house and I’ll give you anything you want, eh? How does that sound?” He leered her up and down, slowly licking his lips as his gaze lingered longer at her chest.

Fed up and fueled by restrained anger, she swatted his hand away and struck his cheek with a deafening slap. “Don’t touch me. And never come near our house again, do you understand?”

His nostrils flared as he rubbed his cheek. “YOU!” he glowered. Sharply sucking in air through gritted teeth, he raised his fist to hit her but was stopped by one of his companions.

“LET GO!” After prying his hand away from their hold, he elbowed the weaker-looking man’s gut, causing him to double over in pain.

“Who the heck do you think you are? No woman would ever put up with you! Want to know why you’re still single, huh?” she taunted, holding her chin up and placing her hands on her hips. “Because no one’s insane enough to settle for you!”

Her charged spiel was met with crumpled bills thrown at her face.

“Want more? Here!”

They showered her with paper bills and coins of varying values.

Although this sort of humiliation was not a rare occurrence, it never failed to rile her up.

She picked some of them up, and threw it back at them.“ I don’t need your money! Why would I, when… when,” she stammered. When what? She needed to act fast to get them off her case. 

Then, an idea dawned on her along with the next words her brain scurried to form.

“When?” one man asked.

“Shh, shh, don’t disturb her. She’s thinking about the money.”

“Your money?” she scoffed. “Please! Why would I need it when I have a suitor worth more than all of you combined?”

“Whooooaaa, really? Prove it!”

She expected to be met with disbelief. All she needed was a convincing lie to get them to believe her.

Whispers of incredulity broke the stillness in the air which ironically intensified the situation.

“You seriously believe her? The suitor is obviously a druggie!”

“No, he’s not! H-he’s none other than the heir of… of… C&R!”

Shi… of all the companies you had to say, it had to be C&R!

“Did you hear that? The heir of C&R? This bitch is delusional!”

“I’ve never seen the heir. Is he handsome?”

“None of us has internet, Sweetie.”

Word spread fast, as not even seconds later, the crowd was growing larger.

Hannah wanted to smack herself, not mentally but physically. 

Way to go, Hannah! You just had to make things worse… should I call Seven? He is rich and has many cars after all. Ah, but I shouldn’t bother him with these trivial matters.

The heavens must have pitied her and answered her prayers, as she caught sight of a slick black car parked by from a distance.

They were too busy gossiping and throwing insults at her that they had not noticed where her line of vision ended.

A serious-looking middle-aged man in black suit got out of the driver’s seat. He circled the car until he reached the back door.

Hannah kept her eyes peeled open as the chauffeur opened the backseat door.

Bingo.

A tall, well-built man with unkempt black hair stepped out of the car. He scanned his surroundings, a perplexed expression on his face as he whispered something to his chauffeur, who then gave a slight nod in reply.

The man looked to be in his late 20s, and his whole existence screamed that he was not a resident of their village. 

I found my new suitor.

“Oh, silly me, I almost forgot!” She lightly smacked her head. “I forgot he was going to visit me! He’s right there, see!” She jumped up and waved her arms at the unknown man.

The strange action caught his attention as he was meticulously folding his long sleeves.

“Hehe, be right back!”

Hannah rushed towards him, aware that the small crowd was staring at her retreating figure.

Then she finally reached him. Instead of introducing herself, she tiptoed, tugging the collar of his sleeve to bring him to her height and whispered, “Please, please, please do me a favour and just pretend to be the heir of C&R! It’s very important! PLEASE!”

There was a slight quirk of his brow as he responded with outright bewilderment, “But I am the heir of C&R.”

Overjoyed, Hannah clapped her hands together and cheered, “Perfect! Just like a natural! Now let’s go!”

“Wait—”

Ignoring his confused face, she linked her arms with his and gleefully dragged him towards the flabbergasted crowd.

They have no idea how the heir looks like anyway!

Once she reached them, she made an exaggerated gesture to introduce the saviour of her current predicament.

“This is my suitor! The heir,” she threw that word with much emphasis, smirking as she savoured the baffled looks on their faces, “of C&R International Company!”

She could take a guess of what went on in their heads: How was Hannah able to snag such a handsome rich man? I wish I was her right now! She’s got to be kidding?!

Having been taught to think twice when unexpectedly faced by conflict, Jumin carefully analyzed the situation, noting every detail he could gather. She doesn’t seem to know me… and neither do these people. His piercing glare landed on the grown men, and this made them flinch from where they stood. But perhaps they know.

“S-Sir… we apologize for causing Ms. Hannah trouble. W-we will be leaving now!”

Oh, shit… he’s such a good actor. He hasn’t said a word at all, but he managed to fool them! Hannah’s eyes darted between the classy-looking man and the direction where the men just ran off.

“Are you alright, Hannah? Did they hurt you?” The woman she worked for the other day came up beside her.

She gave her the side-eye. If memory serves her right, these people had always thrown their knives at her back.

“At least you’re alright,” the lady said before facing the ‘heir of C&R’.  “Hello, Mister! I’m Jung Mina!”

“Oho, now you’re behaved?” Hannah’s lip curled at her sudden shift of behaviour. The quintessential social climber. “Scatter along now! Can’t you see you’re making him uncomfortable?”

 When the crowd dispersed and went their own way, Hannah sighed in relief. Peace, at last.

Before she could forget her saviour, she turned to look at him then bowed politely. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this ruckus. I really am!” She straightened her posture. “Why don’t I bring you to the market? My treat! It’s usually not crowded around this time of day.”

“I’m not here for such matters—”

“Nonsense! At least let me treat you for the trouble! If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have a peaceful day. That happens only once in a blue moon, so please let me show you my gratitude!” She took his hand and pulled him along with her. 

And with an audible sigh, he followed.

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He’s like a kid on his first exploration.

She tried to stifle her laughter as she watched him attempt to conceal his awe at the surroundings. He looked so fascinated that she felt bad to disturb his musings. His eyes were darting from place to place, but she noticed how they would linger on anything cat-related, especially on white ones with blue eyes.

“So this is the commoners’ mall. It is outdoors?”

“I guess you can say that? I mean, it’s called a ‘market’.”

“Everything here is cheap… are they all safe?”

“Not everything—but most are safe! Sometimes it’s cheap because they manufacture it themselves. Others buy it by bulk directly from the manufacturers. Most items are knockoffs too, not everyone can afford the real thing; although, I don’t understand why people would waste money on expensive bags or watches. If I were them, as long as a bag works or a watch works, it doesn’t have to be… you know… pricey.”

The sudden halt in their footsteps caught his attention. When she turned to look at him, he couldn’t help noticing the glint of mirth that her brown eyes gave off.

“Do you love cats?”

He blinked twice. How was she able to tell?

She chuckled at his stiff nod. For a rich man like him, she surely did not feel intimidated by his vibe. “Here, let me buy this for you—no refusing!” she demanded, her hand reaching to an oversized blue pajama set with cat prints on it. She raised the shirt to his chest, checking if the size fitted him.

His head tilted ever so slightly to the side as he scanned the top’s design. “I have never worn anything like this.”

“Huh? Then what do you wear when you sleep?”

“I wear outfits that are convenient for immediate departure in case of an emergency.”

She scrunched her nose. “I… guess it’s improper to ask further,” she said whilst her eyebrow rose behind her frame. “Maybe I should get you more.”

“There is no need.” When he made a move to bring out his wallet, Hannah immediately stopped him, grabbing his wrist and placing it back to his side.

“No, I will be paying! Don’t pay for anything today.”

The next thing he knew, they were sauntering all over the place with ease. It was not difficult to maneuver around the small crowd given the friendly weather they were under. The sky was perfectly cloudy and the cool breeze was pleasing to his skin. This was not the “appointment” he was expecting to encounter when he came to visit the small town.

Still, with all his frankness, it was a surprise he was willing to spend the day in.

Unconsciously, Jumin let out a soft chuckle.

“Don’t tell me you have never tried this?” she exclaimed in pure disbelief, her hands shaking both paper bags in her hands. 

“My nutritionist strongly opposes junk food, and he has been my nutritionist since my childhood; therefore, I never once touched this… fries.”

“It’s not just your regular fries; this is ‘Shook Shook Fries’. A taste of this is a must!”

“It is unhealthful….”

“It’s not like you’re gonna eat this everydaaay,” she dragged for added humour, “just have it from time to time.”

The moment he tasted it, he knew he was missing a lot of things in life.

There it was again, that satisfying sound of her laughter… she was doing it again.

“It’s good, isn’t it?”

He stared at her genuine smile for the third time that day. Was it the third? Maybe fourth? Fifth? His sharp memory could not tell. Have I really been too preoccupied?

His attention shifted back to the young woman waving her hand close to his face… 

...and to the next food she was putting on his palm.

“I’m betting my head you’ve never tried this too. Make sure you have this for breakfast with egg tomorrow!”

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Just as it started, their wandering ended with Hannah paying for the long cat plush pillow.

“I feel like a boyfriend spoiling his girlfriend around.”

“Is that bad?” came his monotonous voice.

“Nope! I had fun. Sorry I wasn’t able to treat you much, but this is all I can offer,” she said sullenly. “I hope you enjoyed it though.”

It was silent for a while, until he could visibly see his car slowly approaching them from a distance.

“Oh! Isn’t that your car? Why don’t you leave now and get some rest?”

She continued to blabber about how he should go home and that she would be fine going home by herself. While she was busy gesturing over the car—her back turned to him—he lifted his hand high in the air to catch the driver’s attention. With one twirl of his finger, the car stopped proceeding before it turned and drove away.

“H-Hey! Why is it leaving?” 

“Perhaps my driver forgot something.”

“What? But what about you?”

For a split second, she thought she was imagining things. She saw the corner of his lips quirked up as he shrugged his shoulders.

“I guess I’ll walk you home.” Even though his eyes were as dark as the night that was coming, they were warm like the first ray of sunlight in the cold early morning.

However, her face was probably warmer than his gaze.

The very same night, someone unusually had difficulty falling asleep after realizing something really important.

“I forgot to ask his name!”

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“Yes, make sure all their bills are paid for the entire year. Tell them to contact my assistant if the amount is inadequate.”

“Understood.”

“You may leave.”

Jaehee could not tell which was more perplexing, seeing her boss using a long cat plush pillow or the rustling sound the fries were making inside the paper bag he was shaking.

“Mr. Han, I don’t think your nutritionist will… appreciate that.”

He simply hummed in response.

“Have you ever tried this ‘Shivering Fries’?”

“It’s ‘Shook Shook Fries’, Mr. Han, and I have had it several times. Will this be your first?”

“How bold of you to assume I’ve never had this.”

She swore she felt her energy evacuate her body at that comment. At least I’m paid more than enough to handle this. “My apologies. You just don’t seem to be the type to eat that kind of food.”

There he was, in all his glory, smirking at himself for who knows what reason. She had always found him annoying; but today, he was different on an exasperating level. 

Jaehee swore once more that his next words had successfully snapped a vein in the back of her head.

“I am quite a commoner at heart. And can someone buy me this ‘hotdog’ with egg?”

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Hey guuuys, hope you enjoyed this! Since this is kind of a sideline project and this isn't our super focus, Chapter 3 is unsure as of yet!

Anyway, thank you for reading! Love you guys ohohohoho