#he wonders how he's gonna solve the problem of the hundred boxes and he just

[fictionadventurer]

Guide to PBS Kids writers:

This is an early episode of a quality animated show and is one of the most hysterical things I've ever seen on children's television = Joe Fallon

This is an early episode of a quality animated show and is very funny = Ken Scarborough

This episode has strong, vivid and realistic female characters = Kathy Waugh

This is an episode of an animated show that has undergone a notable quality drop where the characters get lessons preached at them and seem to exist only in a very narrow urban upper-middle-class worldview = Peter K. Hirsch

This is an episode of that show that has undergone a notable quality drop but the characters are believable and I'm actually laughing at several really good jokes = Ken Scarborough

[isa-beenme]

So @lillithathecat who request this, the thing is, everything is getting out of hand omg kkkkkkkkk (Brazilian laugh, I don't know how to laugh in english)

I just have my box filled and now I'm getting nervous (not out of ideas tho, keep sendind) I think I'm gonna pick out one of each prompt and publish it because I'm getting a lot of repeated ones, after that I'll write all the others, is that good?

Good, see you next babies

ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE RHYS??? Literally my favorite, could write for him forever, he is my first and last thought of the day SEND MORE REQUESTS FOR HIM PLEASE 😭😭😭😭😭 I want to have a reason to write more

Mastermind

You. Were. Freaking. Out.

Damn it, none of it was in your plans, definitely. I mean, you planned your whole life, how could this not be in your plans? It was, actually, but NOT NOW. You had so many things to figure out in your life yet, you could not possibly be damn fucking pregnant.

Of course, you were, you actually noticed every single change in you since the first week, and have been going to Madja over and over again for the past two months, you know and have made sure you are expecting a baby. But the same amount of happiness you had in your heart you had nervousness.

It was not a bad thing, not at all, you couldn't be more happy to be expecting your first child, but oh gods, so soon? Not soon tho, you were past five hundred years, three hundred of them with your goddamned mate, also husband, also the father of the project of a baby you were carrying, also your High Lord. That last sentence being the reason for all of your worries.

Not just you were the High Lady as well, but the child in your womb was already fated to the weight of the crown in its non-yet-existent head, and it was heavy on you too. The idea of carrying and protecting and raising the future of the Night Court was terrifying.

You studied hard to be the best you could offer for your court, the one you were born and raised and so proud to live in. You planned everything, from top to toe you handed it all ready and verified and corrected and detailed for every single idea for a change or plan to solve problems. That's why you were so admired in every single piece of land in your court.

And yet, you couldn't figure out how to organize your thoughts and feelings to fit a baby into your life. You always knew the day was coming, that's precisely why you stopped taking your medicine. But you honestly thought it would take months or maybe even years to get pregnant, knowing very well how hard it is for a fae to make a baby. But with the number of times you and Rhysand got filthy with each other being impressive, it actually wasn't a surprise you got your one so fast.

But you couldn't stop the worries anyway.

You talked it through with Rhysand, you knew he wanted nothing more than a child, but what if you tell him and he doesn't want it now? What would you do?

The pile of papers and the amount of books in your study room kept staring at you, wondering where you were finally going to start working.

Damn, would you have to stop working for a while and focus only on the baby? Could you still train with Cass, go out with Mor, go jewelry hunting with Amren, and fly with Az? And after the birth, could you come back to your so well-detailed life or everything would have to involve the baby too?

The questions filled your head and flooded your senses to the point that you didn't even notice the door opening and your mate coming in to check on you and have your daily conversation over sweets and coffee of the afternoon. His smile quickly dropped as he took in your state of distress, leaving the tray of food on top of the table to get close to you. He gives you a small touch on your shoulder to make you notice him before he lifts your face to hold it in his hands as he looks at you.

-What happened? Something wrong? - His voice soothes you so much, even more after the pregnancy, feeling every cell in your body light up in happiness for having him there.

-Nothing wrong. I'm just thinking too much - He pulls you up, making you stand in front of him. His hands were still caressing your face as he started pecking your skin.

-You do that when you get a court-related problem and don't know how to solve it, then you get stressed for not getting an answer and get mad at yourself for not being "smart enough" to make everyone happy - He pecks your mouth lightly, his analysis making you chuckle since he was on point in every word - So, what do we have in hands? Who is upset in this court? I didn't receive anything.

-I mean, I got the news a few weeks ago and I've been trying to make sense of it for a while - He waited as you grabbed his hands and kissed them, touching him somehow always made you feel more secure about yourself - But no one is upset. I think everyone will be more than happy with the news. I just don't know how to react. How to tell you.

-Tell me? - Rhysand frowns slightly, pulling you to the nearest couch and making you sit on top of him, cuddling you as a way to make you feel safe to talk - You know that I would never say a bad thing to you, ever.

-I know. That's not what I'm worried about - You grab his hand and put it on top of your stomach, not any different from the other days, as the baby was still the size of a small grain. Yet, the act seemed enough for him to understand - I actually know you will be more than excited.

His face lights up in a fraction of a second, his eyes shining with a thousand stars, the stars you always praise when he looks at you. His arms circle you as his laugh fills in the room, kisses being left all over the skin he could reach. The happiness flew over the bond as you were also laughing, enjoying your mate's reaction. His thoughts and feelings were shooting themselves at you, his heart racing and filling with happiness while small tears ran down his face.

-Thank you so much, my love. Thank you - He murmured while rocking in you, face still hidden in your neck - Why were you worried? This is the best news you could ever give me - His face clearly demonstrated that, the happiest he ever seemed since the day you were officialized as High Lady in front of the Court members. He kisses you one more time, this time long and deep and sweet and loving. He loved you. Loved the kid you both would get to raise together.

-The timing… I don't know - You dried the tears on his face, pecking his cheeks as he simply took in your scent, finally finding the light scent of the baby growing inside you - I thought I would get more time to prepare myself? Like, make plans and stuff. I know we have eight months in front of us to deal with everything but still… I didn't exactly plan it through.

-You can't plan it. You never know if the seed takes root. It's hard for faes to conceive babies, you know this - He tries to state calmly, the euphoria affecting his senses making it hard for him to focus completely - You don't need to plan anything. There are moments in life that you simply have to live through.

-Well… Yeah, I think so - He pecks your face more times and you laugh, trying to brush off the uneasiness you felt by not being in control - I never experienced a situation like this, but I think we can manage.

-What do you mean, "never experienced"? Being High Lady of the Night Court was all in your plans? - He laughed and stopped right away, taking in your expression, almost as if he caught you committing a crime - You planned to be High Lady?!

-No! Not being High Lady itself… just… work with you, have a really high rank in politics, maybe be your advisor - He was shocked, his smile growing as he took in the information - I mean, that's what I spent my whole life studying for, you know? To work!

-But when I met you I thought-

-Thought I was just an artist trying to make money on Rita's while singing a lovely song about breaking rules, changing the world for the greater good, bringing peace with my group of freaky friends to the city, and living happily ever after in the world we created? Then Rita went to your table and told the Inner Circle they would get a free round of wine that day if one of you went up on the stage and sang a duet with me. Mor's heel was broken, Cassian couldn't even try because he spent the whole week screaming in the camps and Azriel still was too shy. So you went up on the stage because "what better than a fun challenge with a pretty girl that makes music about all of your dreams", right? We sang, and you gained a free round of wine and invited me to drink too, I accepted, said something about the changes they were doing in the Rainbow, I gave slight ideas as if I was just a normal citizen of Velaris that was trying to make my city a better place. Even if you were drunk you kept those ideas in your mind and passed them to your father. The next week, oh my, look who we found in your favorite coffee shop! Remember the one you went to every Wednesday after a reunion with your father? That one. You found me, we talked, and you asked me if I had more ideas. I said I did. You were flirting but were also curious. After three or four weeks I was basically your advisor. I didn't plan to fall in love with you, but it was a welcomed feeling since you were as sweet as people talked about. We kissed, the mating bond snapped, and we married. Bingo! I'm High Lady and everything went as I planned, like pieces of dominoes falling in order - Rhysand frowns slightly and realizes how everything you said matched perfectly with those first weeks you both met each other. His face turns to you with a shocked smile, his mind still processing all of the information - So yeah, never planned to be your mate, but definitely planned our encounter and everything after.

-How? - It was the only word he could process, his hand still caressing your sides.

-During my childhood kids never wanted to play with me for some stupid reason I don't even remember, but from then on I swore I would make everyone love me so I would never feel alone again, and would make it seem effortless. I talked with everyone in Velaris when I first moved in. I wanted to have a job with the current High Lord, but everyone seemed scared of him, yet they loved you. So I guess it would be easier if I made friends with you, right? Anyway, you already had your Inner Circle, and it was basically impossible to get in, so I reunited every information I could from you. Your preferences, your family, your friends, your habits, I even talked with some of the girls you fucked just to make sure, nowadays I understand why I always felt so jealous. Then I took music lessons after meeting Keir once and discovering that you loved the performances they had in the Court of Nightmares. Then, I studied Illyrian culture and made some friends, also some funny enemies during my oh-so-convenient trips to Illyria, they were the ones who made Cassian lose his voice, by the way. I never had to pretend though, I was actually really interested in all of this, even more in you after we started to talk. After securing my friendship with Rita I just had to put everything into action - You smiled a little bit, as if you just didn't break his whole world twice in a short span of time - So… how do we feel about this?

-About what? Your amazing planning and spying skills or the pregnancy?

-You are not mad at me? Or scared? - You let out the breath you didn't even notice you were holding. Hearing his laugh only assured you he was okay with this little piece of craziness you held inside of you.

-Darling, you are a mastermind. I know this since the first time I saw you manipulating Keir for days to make him accept one of our new rules - He brushes one strand of hair in front of you and looks you directly in the eyes - I never feared you because I always knew you would never do anything bad. You're just evil in the right situation, I think that's why I knew you would be the most perfect High Lady - He kissed your neck, slowly making his way up to your lips. His skin was hot as fire now, the air heating up too as he kissed you deep to show the devotion you fought so hard to get - It actually turns me on to know you manipulated me. How weird.

-Does my High Lord like it when I outsmart him, hm? - His breath hitch a little before he grips your hip and brings you closer than possible, your hands blindly trace his tattoos on top of the clothing, their shapes well known by your mind from the uncountable amount of time you spent decorating them in his bare skin.

-Surprisingly I do - His hand sneaks under your shirt, placing it directly on top of the place it would swell in a short time - Maybe we can call it a day and commemorate your mind and our future alone, in bed, maybe you can tell me about all the other plans you had while I lick every piece of skin you have.

-I already have a baby growing in me, you know? You don't need to try anymore - Your laugh is quickly replaced by a moan as his other hand travels to the inside of your trousers.

-Maybe we can rush and put another one - His mouth captures yours and he winnows you both to your shared room, your back against the soft mattress as his hand keeps its job.

-I'm pretty sure that's not how it works - His chuckle fills in the room, in a snap of his fingers all of your clothes disappear.

-And I'm pretty sure I just want to eat you out - He quickly dropped to his knees in front of you, his mouth making the travel it made thousands of times before.

Maybe you could finally let destiny make its way without a thought about it.

[slasherscream]

hear me out crazy ass boy gang with a s/o that writes them songs but has never shown them. randomly the guys find them knowing them some are gonna be insufferable with the amount of arrogance they now possess and some of them have no clue what to do with the concept of someone loving them and verbalizing it 🥺

A/N: oooh my gosh i'm obsessed with this concept

billy loomis: Was waiting for you to get back from school/work, and couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He wasn’t necessarily trying to find anything, but the book was on your desk- you were asking him to read it, at this point. He’s only halfheartedly looking until he realizes the words are lyrics. It doesn’t take a genius to realize the love songs are written with him in mind. At first it makes him smirk. But he can see the evolution of your relationship through the lyrics. General feelings of infatuation melting into the deeper connection of being in love with him, as opposed to being in love with love itself. It’s an ego boost, for sure. Mostly it’s a relief. Here are your feelings, written out on page, clear as day. Your every unfiltered thought. He doesn’t tell you he read the book. He just walks around with a knowing smirk on his face that you’re very suspicious of. You’re easily distracted from this onset of smugness by his sudden romantic nature. He’s never been a bad boyfriend, but he’s certainly never been so downright doting. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you decide to just enjoy this random streak of tenderness.

josh washington: You two were moving in together and he was just trying to unpack some of your boxes for you. He’s honestly just setting up your desk for you. All the boxes are marked so that either one of you can unpack anything inside with at least a vague idea of where the stuff should go. Something about the unmarked notebook that doesn’t look like its for school makes him take a look inside. When he realizes how personal it is he wants to put it down. Then he spots his name... and well, he isn’t a saint.

He melts as he goes through the pages. He knows the two of you love each other. You have to love each other, with all the bullshit you’ve been through. But he knows it’s not easy to be with him. Sometimes he worries that you’ll wake up one day and be done with him. Be done with all the problems that come with being with him. He wouldn’t blame you but the thought leaves him hollow. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you. He doesn’t know if he could handle you being gone. You love him though. It’s inked into the pages. Some songs written out slow and careful, and others written out sloppy and fast, like you had to get all the feeling out of your chest because it hurt to have it all trapped inside. You’ll walk in carrying takeout and find Josh crying. You nearly drop the food to run and comfort him. When he tells you what’s wrong - or really, what isn’t wrong, you won’t even have the heart to be angry. He looks somewhere between overwhelmed and awe. All he can think to do is pull you into his arms. He holds you so tightly you wonder if he’s afraid someone will come and take you away.

stu macher: He was just going through your stuff because he was bored, honestly. He wasn’t expecting to find anything juicy. The minute he realizes he’s holding onto a notebook full of songs he’s giddy. It’s practically a diary! You'll come into your bedroom and see him poring over your words without shame. He won’t even have the decency to stop. “Hey babe!”, will be his absentminded greeting as his eyes stay glued to a far-too-familiar book. You’ll have to literally snatch it from him. “Didn’t know you felt this way about me.” His teasing will be relentless. You’ll have to threaten to break up with him, and give him a bit of the silent treatment too. Eventually he’ll ease up on you, his grin going soft around the edges. “You should show me them on your own next time. Else I’ll have to go hunting for ‘em.” It’s not an idle threat. Now that he knows the book exists he’ll really tear up your entire house looking for it. Don’t bother trying to hide it. It won’t be worth the headache. 

jd: His first instinct is to become insufferable. As he reads more of your lyrics, he starts getting overwhelmed. Even as he holds the proof in his hands, he can barely wrap his head around you feeling so strongly about him. He traces over your handwriting and relishes every word. You'll catch him in the act but you won't have the chance to get angry. He kisses you like a man starved. Whispers every thought of love he's ever had against your lips, uncaring if he sounds obsessed. He was allowed a glimpse at your soul. It's only fair that he bares his in return.

kevin khatchadourian: Honestly was indifferent at first. He was going through your things because ‘why shouldn't he?‘ when he found all the songs. Page after page he reads. Slowly but surely it starts to get to him. The only person who's ever loved him is his father, and that love is built upon an endless tapestry of falsehoods and manipulation. His father loves someone who doesn't exist. His mother knows him, always has, but she despises him. Celia loves him, but it's pathetic. The hopeless and unthinking love of a dog. And now there's you. When he's with you he drops the act of normality he puts on for everyone else. You were around so constantly that he couldn't stomach wearing the mask 24/7. Beyond that though, there was something about you that made him want to show you everything. At first he thought he wanted to scare you. Now he doesn't know what he really wants from you.

As he reads through the pages he's sifting through your words, finding the deeper meanings. Watches as you stop writing about his mask, and start writing about him. Jagged and malicious and apathetic as he might be. You're infatuated          maybe you even love him. You've written out the words in a hundred different ways. He can see it every time you look at him, reach for him, follow him, talk to him. Reading it is different, somehow. You probably never wanted him to see these words. To know the depth of how you feel. You were probably afraid he'd mock you. A few months ago he would have. Now? He puts the book back, exactly where he found it.

He won't tell you about reading it, but the words are always on his mind. You'll think you misplaced the book one day and be beside yourself over losing it. Eventually you’ll find it again, out of the blue. Something is off about it though... but you’re not sure what. You’ll never know that what you have is a replica of the original book. A good replica, granted, but a replica nonetheless. Kevin thought about the songs too much, and committing them all to memory hadn’t scratched the itch. The constant cycle of the words running through his head. The irritation he’d feel when he forgot a part of a song, or mixed lyrics together. Having the book itself? It quieted his mind. He’s uncomfortable with the fact that he keeps it under his bed, tucked away inside a lock box, just so no one would be able to look at it. He’s never felt so protective over an item before. He tries not to think about it too much.

nathan prescott: He actually looked at your song book on accident. He needed to borrow some notes for a class and you told him he could just go to your room and grab them. He would never go searching for something like that. Saying he values his privacy would be an understatement, so he'd never disrespect yours. As soon as he realizes these are songs he wants to stop reading... but he's desperate to know what you think of him. People lie so easily, but here's a chance to see the raw truth of how you feel. He's terrified as he starts to read. Then he's just shocked. He'd hoped you weren't like everyone else around him. Wanting him to fail, to lose it, waiting for some sort of pay-off or trickle down. Even if you were, he wanted you so badly he was willing to have you any way you came, as long as you stayed. But here you are, your deepest feelings written out in ink, and you love him. You don't even pity him, you ache for him, want him. The next time he sees you he tells you he loves you for the first time. You'll never know that he read your songs, you'll only notice how much your relationship seemed to change over night.

sebastian valmont: Has to deflect. The only reason he’s being such an asshole about your songs is because he’s trying to deflect. He’s the only one here who has also written about you. Maybe not in lyrics, or in poetry, but he’s written about you. His diary is full of you. He started writing about you the moment he met you. Not unusual for him, considering absolutely everything is in his journals. But from the start there’s been something different about the entries that mention you. All his words suddenly become electric, leaping off the page. His descriptions of you, of the time you spent together, nearing obsessive in their detail. As if you were a puzzle he was trying to solve.

If there’s anything Sebastian is good at its manipulation. He knows he has you. He can have anyone, if he puts his mind to it. He’s made people fall in love with him before. There’s a long line of people who wants his head on a platter for that very reason. You’re the only prize that’s ever mattered, though. He has you now, sure. But what about tomorrow? Or the day after that? It’s easy for eyes to wander, for the heart to turn fickle. Sometimes he watches you and tries to imagine what you might want from him. Tries to figure out what he could do to keep you interested from moment to moment. If he ever shared his worries with you, his worries that you could just get bored with him and leave, just like that - you’d tell him you don’t want him to be anyone but himself. And Sebastian doesn’t want to be anyone but himself, he doesn’t. But people contain multitudes, are more than a single face. He’d rather be a version of himself that captivates you then a “true” version of himself that you can grow tired of.

But here’s written proof that you love him. As he is. All the long nights you’ve spent talking to one another, side by side. The conversations where you traded barbs and philosophy, and everything in-between. The dinners, and picnics, and phone calls, and rooftops. He was so busy observing you, and trying to create a version of himself that you could love, that he forgot that there was something real for you to fall for. Didn’t even know how much of himself he was earnestly offering to you. Now he can see it in ink, and it’s scary, even with how much he loves you, to realize how much of the real him you know.

So he’s an asshole for a few days. When you confront him he falls apart like a wet sandcastle. You won’t have time to get angry before he’s pushing his own journals into your hands. Sebastian has never played fair, but something about you seeing through him despite all his masks made him want to show you more. As scary as it had been, it was also a moment of pure connection. The most electric, addicting thing he’s ever felt. He wants to feel it over and over again.

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 73 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: Courtney committed a fireable offense when she lost Miss Fame’s sketches.

This Chapter: Bianca rides in on a white horse, and Violet says yes to cake.

***

BIANCA: I need Courtney’s address

ADORE: Why

BIANCA: Because she seems upset and she’s not answering and I’m worried

ADORE: What did you do?

BIANCA: NOTHING

BIANCA: I don’t think

BIANCA: Something probably happened at work

BIANCA: ADORE. SEND THE ADDRESS FOR FUCK’S SAKE

BIANCA: I WILL CUT YOU OFF BITCH

BIANCA: Adore, please.

ADORE: Fine! But if she’s mad, that’s on you

BIANCA: ACCEPTED

ADORE: Just to warn you, it’s a real shithole

BIANCA: Alright, alright, just please send the address

*

Even though Bianca felt like a little bit of a stalker just showing up at her place like this, she didn’t know what else she was supposed to do. Courtney had cancelled with those few cryptic messages and then gone radio silent. Bianca knew her well enough by now to be certain that something had gone wrong, since just hours earlier, she was sending sweet messages about how much she couldn’t wait for them to be together.

She tried calling her a few more times from the car, but there was no answer. Finally, standing in front of the crumbling brownstone, she had to come clean.

BIANCA: Look, I’m sorry for taking drastic measures, but I was really worried…

BIANCA: I’m outside your building

Seconds later, her phone rang. She answered, heart filling with relief. “Hi baby-”

“What are you doing here?”

Her voice sounded broken and raw, and it was immediately clear that she’d been crying. Bianca could feel her heart in her throat, head suddenly racing with all the possibilities of things she may actually have done wrong. Had she really fucked this up so quickly?

“I was worried about you, so I thought…” Bianca bit her lip, afraid to even ask if she was the one who had upset Courtney like this. “Are you gonna let me inside?”

There was a pause, a few beats, the sound of sniffling.

“I just...I kind of don’t want you to...see it.” She sounded choked up again, voice small and soft.

“Angel…” Bianca couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief. It didn’t sound like she was angry, at least not with Bianca--just ashamed of where she lived, which Bianca could understand. “Do you think I’ve always lived in a penthouse?”

“No,” Courtney admitted after a pause.

“No,” Bianca repeated. “Not by a longshot. Please let me in, I need to see you. I just want to talk.”

A few minutes later, Courtney appeared, opening the door from the basement level. Bianca raced down the narrow steps and swept her into a hug, trying not to fret too much about the way she hung limply in her arms.

She followed her inside, and while she’d been prepared for something small and substandard, based on everything she’d heard so far, this was far worse than her fears. A tiny basement unit, dank and dark with exposed pipes and what looked like the world’s oldest sofa bed. It was also clearly an illegal sublet with no kitchen--only a metal, industrial sink with an electric kettle and micro-fridge below.

Besides the bed, there was little furniture. Her closet appeared to be two wardrobe boxes, and a few other boxes were stacked next to the bed to create a makeshift side table. Bianca took it all in, wondering exactly how she ended up in such a dismal place.

But now was not the time to ask about that, not when Courtney looked so utterly miserable. Even in the dim lighting, Bianca could see that her eyes were red and swollen. She followed her to the sofa bed, sitting down gingerly beside her (and holy shit was that thing uncomfortable) and taking one of her hands into her lap.

“Tell me why you’re so upset, angel, please.”

Courtney took a shaky breath, fresh tears filling her eyes. “I did something...really terrible today.”

“Did you kill someone? Do you need me to get a shovel?” Bianca asked, and she was rewarded with a hint of a smile as Courtney shook her head.

“No, but…” Every trace of smile disappeared from her face as she said, “I bet Miss Fame is gonna think this is worse.”

“What happened?”

“I accidentally left an envelope with a bunch of her sketches in a cab.” A tear rolled down her reddened cheek.

Bianca’s eyes went wide, understanding why Courtney was so distraught. Fame rarely sketched anymore, but when she did, she was as attached to the original work as if it was a piece of her own body. She immediately went into problem-solving mode, trying to think of things to mitigate the damage.

“Have you tried calling the cab company-”

“I don’t know which cab company it was, I didn’t get a receipt and I can’t remember no matter how hard I try,” Courtney cried. “But I did call, I must have called a hundred different companies, but...I think they might be gone.”

“Okay-”

“It’s not okay! Her sketches, her original sketches! How could I have done that, I’m so dumb, I’m so bad at that stupid job!” More tears poured down her cheeks, sobs heaving her chest.

“Hey, come here…” Bianca pulled her in, hushing her softly, a hand rubbing circles into her back. “I know, I get what a big deal it is, but it sounds like you did everything you could. And I promise you, it’ll be okay-”

“How?! How will it be okay?! I’m gonna get fired!” Courtney exclaimed, and Bianca had to bite her tongue, the word ‘so?’ nearly slipping from her lips.

“Okay, well...let’s say you do get fired,” Bianca said slowly. “I don’t think you will, but if you do...would that be so bad? It’s clearly not your dream job.”

“But I need it. I can’t get my new work visa without it. It’s been months and I still don’t have the answer and-”

“You don’t have a work visa?”

“Not after March. I have an attorney who’s working on it, but he keeps running into problems and he’s already charged me so much and I don’t know-”

“Hold up. Galactica hired you, but they’re not handling your immigration issues?” Bianca asked.

“Well...Violet told me not to tell Miss Fame, so I...I was afraid to bring it up with HR. But I got the number of an immigration lawyer from Miss Fame’s contacts, and...it’s all just so expensive. He keeps asking for more money, and I can’t-”

“Wait a second.”

Bianca was no immigration expert, but she knew two things: 1, getting a work visa for an entry level administrative job was nearly impossible and 2, it was actually impossible without the full support of a sponsor company.

“Whoever that lawyer is, they’re a total fraud. Don’t give them any more money, okay?”

“Oh god.” Courtney moaned, squeezing her eyes shut. “Why can’t I do anything right?!”

“This isn’t your fault,” Bianca assured her. “You trusted a professional and they took advantage of you. They could be disbarred for that. And as for the sketches...stop beating yourself up. Yes, she’s going to be angry, and upset, but things happen. People make mistakes. I’ve made plenty, believe me.”

“Like this?” Courtney asked, eyes skeptical.

“I once dropped my boss’s wife’s passport off a subway platform.”

“Did you get fired?” Courtney asked.

“No. But I did get yelled at for a solid hour. Maybe two. It wasn’t a good day. But...I got through it. And you’ll get through this.”

“Maybe. But I just know I’m gonna fuck up again. Everything is...I don’t think it should still be this hard, not after 4 months. Miss Fame even said that, earlier today. I’m not new anymore, I should know better. I should be better. What’s wrong with me?!”

At first, Bianca said nothing, simply wrapping her in an embrace. She knew that Courtney was finding the job stressful--anyone in their right mind would find that job stressful. But the fact that it was this bad...Bianca felt guilty for not noticing sooner. She rocked Courtney slowly, letting her fall apart in her arms, whispering comfort into her ear.

After a while, when she sensed that Courtney was cried out, sobs slowing down and some of the tension finally melting away, Bianca pulled back and took her by the shoulders. She paused, considering for a minute if she really wanted to get involved before saying, “Maybe this isn’t the right job for you.”

“Well, I don't have another offer, so...oh, god, what am I gonna do? Is the visa thing really bad? Am I gonna get deported?”

“No,” Bianca said with a smile, shaking her head decisively. “I’ll take care of your visa. Don’t worry about it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know yet, but there are options. I promise, okay?” Bianca kissed her cheek softly, up near her ear, lips lingering on her tear-stained skin. “I’ve gotten pretty attached to you, so you leaving the country would be a huge bummer.”

Courtney finally seemed to relax, letting out a small chuckle, resting her head on Bianca’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to leave you either. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, angel.” Bianca squeezed her hand tighter, lacing their fingers together. “Does that mean you want to come home with me?”

Courtney nodded slowly, squeezing Bianca’s hand back. “Yes please.”

“Good.” Bianca tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “And, um...okay so, remember when you said that Christmas music makes you want to go to the beach?”

“Yeah…” Courtney tilted her head, puzzled.

“Well I may have booked us a little...getaway. Just for a few days. So you can have some sun and relax and get away from this dreary weather.”

“Where?” Courtney asked, eyes wide.

“Puerto Rico. It’s not that long of a flight, so-”

“But I thought you had to stay and work!”

“I can work from there.” Bianca flashed her a charming smile, adding, “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, you did. I’m…” Courtney took a deep breath, clearly overwhelmed, and then glanced over to where a beaten-up duffel bag lay on the floor. “I guess I need to pack some other clothes, although I’m not sure I have the right stuff here...”

“There are stores in San Juan.”

Courtney laughed, shaking her head and wiping her eyes. “I’m never gonna get used to the way you live.”

“You will. And that’s a promise,” Bianca said. “So will you come with me? Our flight leaves tomorrow at 2.”

“Yeah, of course! I just need like 20 minutes or so to pack.” Courtney’s mood already seemed to brighten as she began pulling boxes out of a stack against the brick wall.

“Of course, take your time. Mind if I use your bathroom?”

“Oh. Uh...yeah, sure. It’s uh...out that door and down the hall, on the right. I share with Fred, but I think he’s at work right now, so-”

“Who’s Fred?”

“Um-”

“You know what, I can hold it,” Bianca assured her, crossing her legs.

“I’ll be fast, I promise,” Courtney said, pulling a pair of sandals out of the box and tossing them to the floor. “And B...thank you.”

“For what, sunshine?”

“Everything.”

***

“I’ll get to the dishes in a minute, mom!” Gigi closed the door behind her, looking around her bedroom in an attempt to remember where she had put her earpods. She crouched down, digging through her backpack. Symone had made her a playlist of music she had to listen to over the holidays, and if she was gonna be put on Cinderella duty, she might as well make it productive.

It felt strange to be home; the smells, sights and sounds were all exactly the same, while she couldn’t help but feel different, like she had grown up in the weeks she was away.

Some of her friends had reached out when they had seen on Instagram that she had returned to L.A, but she hadn’t responded yet. She was an adult now, with a real job, not a college kid that could mess around and do all the things she used to, hanging out in the skate park suddenly so lame and childish compared to all the things she was doing in New York.

She had spent the day in her mom’s studio, watching her work like she had done so many times before, her mom excitedly asking about what clothes she should make her, and showing her all of the sketches she had done while Gigi was away based on the pictures she had sent.

Gigi couldn’t wait to wear her mom's creations, the outfits more chic than anything she had seen in the multiple designer stores she had now been in. Sutan’s words that her style was her edge ones she had really taken to heart.

“There!” Gigi exclaimed triumphantly, pulling her earpods out of her backpack. She grabbed her phone, and was just about to get to the kitchen to do the dishes, when she saw that she had gotten a message from Symone, a massive grin spreading on her face as she slid back down to the floor, leaning against her bed to respond, her chores completely forgotten.

***

JINKX: Hey honey. Just want to make sure you made it home from the airport okay.

JINKX: I read it was snowing a ton.

JINKX: Plus you know, I haven’t heard from you in almost 4 hours so I miss you like crazy.

JINKX: ;-P

ALASKA: Haha, I’m fine. At a bar right now catching up with the bro.

JINKX: Tell him hi for me

JINKX: xoxo

ALASKA: <3

***

It was Christmas Eve Day, barely past dawn, but Courtney was already awake. She’d slipped from the bed as quietly as possible so as not to wake Bianca, padding over to the big picture window to watch the golden sunlight reflecting off the buildings, admire the light dusting of snow on the trees in the park. She wasn’t used to thinking of New York as pretty, but from up here, it really was.

“Hey...good morning…” Bianca said, her voice rough with sleep, just the way Courtney loved most.

“Good morning.” She turned around, giving her a slightly apologetic smile. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Nahh...I guess my body just doesn’t want to sleep without you.”

“I love it when you’re cheesy,” Courtney giggled.

“Oh yeah? Plenty more where that came from. What are you doing all the way over there?”

“Just...checking out the view. It’s pretty amazing.” Courtney turned and headed back to the bed, suddenly missing Bianca’s warmth beside her.

“The view over here isn’t half bad either,” Bianca told her with a wink.

Courtney giggled some more, crawling toward her across the mattress. “Happy Christmas Eve…”

Their lips met in a sweet and tender kiss, Bianca’s hands cradling her face.

“Speaking of which...how do you feel about opening one of your presents now?”

“Really? Already?” Courtney asked, eyes lighting up.

“Well, it’s kind of useful, so I think it makes sense.” Bianca got up out of the bed, pulling a huge box wrapped in silver from her closet.

Courtney sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing slightly as she ripped open the paper to reveal a gorgeous pink Fendi suitcase, covered in what had to be custom crystals. Her mouth fell open.

“I figured you could use it for our trip. You know. I’m all about practical gifts.”

Courtney couldn’t help laughing. The suitcase was anything but practical...but it was perfect, like it was designed from Courtney’s wildest daydreams.

“I don’t know if I have enough to fill this,” Courtney said, running her fingers over it, watching the way the stones glittered in the light.

“Well...that’s cool, I could use the extra space myself.”

Courtney raised her eyebrows. She’d seen Bianca’s packed suitcases, two giant Louis Vuittons and a large, matching carry-on, nearly ready to go.

“You need more space? We’re going for a week...what are you even taking?!”

“More presents,” Bianca said, dimples deepening.

“Oh my god…”

***

Violet chewed on her lip; sorting through Google images really not where she excelled. She was looking for pictures of Raja at the Met Ball, slowly combing through what she could find since her emails to Max and Pearl had gone unanswered. It was annoying, but expected. Pearl never missed out on the chance of ignoring her emails, and Max was british so he completely ignored both phone and computer the minute he left the office, so she was on her own.

“Violet?”

Violet looked up from her station at the living room table to see Sutan head peek in through the kitchen door, his phone against his shoulder, the glasses in his hair betraying that he had been working  as well even though it was Christmas Eve. “My mom’s asking if you like klappertaart?”

“... Excuse me what?” Klappertaart? Violet had no idea what that was. It wasn’t unusual for either Raja or Sutan to get a bit confused when they bounced between Indonesian and English, their sentences sometimes mixed up, but that didn’t sound Indonesian at all. “Is that German?”

“Dutch, actually,” Sutan smiled. “Remind me to educate you on the thrilling saga of Indonesia's colonial history some day.”

“Ah,” Violet felt a brief stab of shame, that information seeming like something she should have known, though she had barely even been aware that Indonesia existed before she had met her boyfriend.

“So?” Sutan walked fully into the room, leaning against the doorframe, his black pants tight in the waist, and Violet couldn’t help but admire him for a second. “Klappertaart?”

“I still don’t know what it is.”

“Oh fuck, right” Sutan’s eyes widened, and Violet laughed as she heard a noise from the phone, Murni clearly picking up on her son’s swearing, Sutan quickly putting the phone against his ear.

“Ya Bunda, ya ya, maaf,” Sutan grinned, walking over to the table before putting the phone down so he could continue talking.

“Klappertaart is… It’s a cake, that’s…” Sutan paused, clearly looking for his words. “There’s coconut and… Know what, excuse me.” Sutan held the phone up again, Indonesian falling from his lips as he talked to his mom and Violet had to hide a smile, Sutan clearly never considering what was in this mysterious klappertaart.

“There,” Sutan pulled away, “It’s a coconut cake with almonds and raisins, and we usually have it for Christmas.”

“Huh,” Violet ran over the ingredients in her head. It was incredibly nice of Sutan’s mom to ask if she liked the menu, and there weren’t any of the ingredients that she hated, though warm raisins were disgusting, but she was pretty sure she could get away with picking them off, so there was no reason to create a scene. “That sounds lovely.”

“Great,” Sutan smiled, bending down to give her a quick kiss before he returned to his phone call.

[margoshansons]

Desperate Measures 15/?

MASTERLIST: (don’t ask about part ten)

Summary: Raven undergoes a terrible operation to save herself, and Finn recruits delinquents for a mission. Y/N is one of them.

warnings: surgical procedures, swearing, canon-typical stuff

notes: I’m finally back with a chapter and hopefully I’ll be able to update regularly again. Tbh, I feel like no one cares about this story anymore, so seeing it receive some new love has made my heart very very happy. Based on 2x02 “inclement weather”

***

Bellamy paced his cell, the wire digging into his wrists as he waited for another interrogation. Byrne, Sgt. Miller. It was only a matter of time before Kane decided to show up. It was only a matter of time before he had to face the man who had helped float his mother.

Today was that day apparently.

The door slid open. He had seemed taller on the Ark, more intimidating.

Down here he was just another adult who was playing with things they didn’t understand. Another adult who refused to believe them.

“How long are you gonna keep me locked up in here?” Bellamy sighed, his shoulders slumping.

Kane crossed his arms, “As long as it takes until I’m sure you’re not a threat to others.”

He resisted the urge to scoff. The only threat they faced was the grounders.

“Those are my people out there” Bellamy growled, his irritation starting to get the better of him, “I should be out there looking for them, not--”

“You shouldn’t be doing anything” Kane cut him off, tone stern, “Your time of being a leader is over.”

Bellamy clenched his jaw. His time of being a leader will never be over. As long as his people survived, he would do whatever it took to keep them that way.

The sound of metal dragging on metal caught him off guard, Kane sitting down on a lone crate, gesturing to another one he had brought over. Bellamy knew the drill.

Here came the interrogation.

“I need you to tell me everything you know about the grounders” Kane paused, inhaling, “and my daughter.”

“Your daughter?” Bellamy asked, arching an eyebrow.

Kane creased his, “You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

Bellamy decided to play his game. “I know Y/N Franco survived a bullet wound to the leg and was one of the hundred who managed to make it back home. The rest of my friends are out there, probably dying and you’re sitting here acting like the real threat isn’t out there torturing our people!”

“That’s enough!” Kane barked, teeth grit in brewing anger, “If you aren’t going to help me, then I’m afraid I can’t let you go.”

As the new Chancellor stood up to walk away, Bellamy chuckled mirthlessly, remembering what Maria had said so many times before.

“She was right” Bellamy called out, “You’re not her father.”

He watched as the Chancellor buried his emotions in a fist, slowly turning around with an ease he had only seen Y/N wear before.

The two men eyed each other, never losing eye contact as Kane sat back down, hunching over to lean in closer to Bellamy. The interrogation continued.

***

Her leg throbbed, but she could walk. The bullet had been safely removed, and she was thankful Murphy was a lousy shot. 

She was thankful Murphy had only hit the muscle.

Raven wasn’t as lucky.

Y/N stood beside Finn, watching anxiously as Abby discussed what needed to be done to save Raven.

“The bullet is still shifting” The doctor informed the mechanic, “I was hoping it would stabilize by now.”

“So take it out” She and Raven spoke at the same time.

Abby and Jackson shared a nervous look, unable to hide anything from anyone down here. No one was.

“Raven” Abby’s tone turned gentle. “The bullet is pressing against your spine, if we leave it in you’ll live but...you’ll never walk again.”

Y/N swallowed at the news. On the ark, this wouldn’t have been a problem. Zero G solved that. Down here? With grounders abundant and new threats popping up everywhere? Where they needed their legs to run? Raven needed to walk. Raven needed that surgery.

“Take it out” Raven pleaded, showing no sign of backing down from her decision. “In zero g I didn’t need my legs. Down here I do.”

Abby sighed before nodding slightly to Jackson. She felt Raven’s calloused hand snake itself into her own, eyes pleading with her.

“Will you stay?” The weakened girl asked, “please?” Y/N nodded, leaning down, her leg still hurting but she ignored it. Raven was going through much worse. She could deal with a little leg pain if it helped Raven.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She replied, brushing a hand over her friend’s hair. A weight knelt down beside her and she caught Finn staring intently at his ex, grasping her and Y/N’s hand in his own. “Neither am I” He spoke softly, his gaze never leaving Raven’s.

“We’re almost ready” Abby called, turning Raven on her stomach before lifting up the mechanic’s grey tank top, marking the infected area with a black marker. Y/N felt her breathing shift. Raven’s grip grew tighter around her and Finn’s hands, a silent plea.

The scalpel made its way to the marked area, ready to cut into her--

“Stop!” Raven cried, a tear streaking down her ashen face, fear flickering through her eyes. “I’m so scared” Her voice broke and Y/N broke along with it.

This was her best friend.

More than that. They were sisters. They grew up together. They were meant to change the world together. And now the strongest person she knew was breaking down before her eyes.

“Hey” Y/N whispered, drawing Raven’s attention away from the surgery, “Look at me and Finn.”

Understanding swirled in her dark brown eyes.

She squeezed their hands together.

She was ready.

Finn switched his gaze to Abby.

Y/N’s never left Raven’s.

“She’s ready” Finn announced.

The screams were deafening.

*** Bellamy’s blood became ice as screams rang through the small compound. What if it was Y/N? She had been scheduled for surgery. What if the screams were hers? What if she was suffering and there was nothing he could do about it?

“It’s not Sparky, if that’s what you’re worried about” Murphy deadpanned from across the room. Irritation flashed hotly through Bellamy’s body, the traitor’s voice not helping his anxious state. “She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.”

He clenched his jaw at the statement, because against his better judgement, Bellamy knew Murphy was right. Y/N would refuse to scream during surgery, especially if it was just a bullet to the leg.

Before Bellamy could respond to the true statement, the doors slid open once again, revealing Kane and Byrne ready for another interrogation. Except this time the subject matter was one person.

The same person he had been thinking about minutes before.

“What the hell happened to my daughter?” Kane’s eyes were ablaze, searching back and forth between the two men, desperate for answers. Kane turned toward Bellamy, stalking forward, “You told me grounders don’t have guns.”

“They don’t” Bellamy spoke calmly, slightly unnerved with how desperate the Chancellor seemed. No one had ever seen him this vulnerable. Or this angry. “You wanna know what happened to your daughter?”

Kane clenched his jaw, the slightest nod answering the question.

“Ask him.” Bellamy gestured toward the opposite wall.

Toward John Murphy.

***

Y/N exhaled, wanting to cry tears of relief.

She had made it. Against all odds, Raven Reyes had survived.

“She’s a fighter” Abby pointed out later, wiping the scalpel and tweezers clean of the crimson liquid. “You all are.”

Y/N smiled shyly at the compliment, her thoughts drifting toward Bellamy. “Some of us more than others.” She murmured.

Abby froze, turning around to face the engineer. “You want to go see him.”

It wasn’t a question.

Y/N nodded.

“Please Abby” She pleaded, “If you knew what Murphy’s done, what he did to me, Raven and Bellamy, you wouldn’t have him locked up.”

The doctor sent a puzzled look before glancing between the two girls. Her mind began to weave the pieces together, an incredulous look on her face as Abby threw another glance at Y/N’s freshly stitched up leg.

“This way,” was all Abby said, pulling the engineer forward through the curtains of the med tent until she landed in front of a panel that looked out of place. “You can exit through there, your dad’s waiting out front, but this should be able to get you past him and Byrne.”

She threw her arms around the woman who had saved her and Raven’s life, grateful that she had someone in this camp on her side.

Her feet stepped out onto the grassy fields, sunlight streaming across her face, blinding her vision and heating up her face as she soaked up the yellow rays. Her boots crunched against the patches of dry grass underneath her as she managed to find the entrance to the newly dubbed Camp Jaha.

She avoided the awestruck gazes of her fellow Ark citizens, every one of them knowing exactly who she was. The poor orphan from Mecha station taken in by Marcus Kane. Before she was thrown in solitary with the rest of the delinquents to be sacrificed for their sick experiment.

Before she was sent down to die.

Alpha station was exactly the way she remembered it. Down to the last piece of scrap metal that had fallen from the sky. The metal walls confined her. Everything was too small.

She couldn’t believe she ever thought this was the biggest thing in the world.

The earth was a never ending maze, the same way she had viewed Alpha at one point, and now Alpha was nothing to her. A confining box meant to keep everyone in line.

She peeked down the corridor leading to the stockade, watching the guards, wondering if there was some way to cut the power so she could sneak in unseen.

An arm on her shoulder caused her to flinch.

She whipped around, senses on fire as she drew her fists, stopping when she met the shocked face of David Miller.

“Sgt. Miller?” She asked, disbelief crossing her features. The Chief of the guard relaxed, all the tension gone from his shoulders as he recognized the face in front of him.

“Y/N,” The chief breathed, “I’m so glad I found you. Did Nate follow you back at all?”

She froze at the question.

For the first time since being discovered at the dropship, she allowed her thoughts to turn toward those she failed. Miller, Monty, Jasper, Clarke.

All gone. 

Taken.

By grounders or something else. But it didn’t change the fact. She hadn’t saved them. She had failed them all.

“I’m sorry” She swallowed, ignoring the guilt pressing against her chest, “I don’t know where he is.”

David’s face fell.

“I broke my promise” Y/N admitted, voice thick with emotion, “I promised you I’d take care of him, and I--I failed. I’m so sorry.”

He left with a broken smile and a pat on the back. His words ringing in her head long after he was gone.

“You did what you could.”

No she didn’t. She should’ve gone after them. She should’ve stopped hiding. She should’ve tried to fight off those who would try and harm her friends. And now she was paying the price. A hand grasped her bicep and pulled her backward, pressing her against the wall, a hand covering her mouth.

Her eyes narrowed when she saw who it was.

“Finn?” She spoke through his hand, the muffled sound muted by the flesh against her lips. The long haired delinquent shot several paranoid looks behind his shoulder before whispering his plan to Y/N.

“Your dad lied about the search team. Finding our people, going after the grounders, all of it. They’re not going after our people Y/N,” Finn informed her, his eyes bugging out of his head, “So we’re taking matters into our own hands. Monroe and Sterling are on watch, you and I are going to sneak in and free Bellamy. What do you say?”

He gently lifted his hand free from her mouth to let her give her answer.

It was a reckless plan. And there’s no telling whether the grounders even had their friends in the first place unless they managed to build smoke bombs. But it was better than anything she had come up with.

It was better than staying here and failing again.

“I’m in.”

Sneaking in was marginally easier than she expected. Especially with Marcus putting several guards in front of the door because he didn’t like how close Bellamy had gotten with her. Thank whatever higher power above for secret passages.

They had kept her safe from Marcus’ disappointment on the Ark and now they���re going to help her save her friends.

“Get up” Finn instructed, Y/N using the pliers to cut the zip ties around Bellamy’s wrists, “We’re going to save our friends.”

Bellamy’s skeptical look disappeared as he rubbed his raw wrists. Anger stirred in her chest at the sight of the red lines, but she shoved it aside. She would deal with her father later. Right now her friends were in trouble.

“About time,” Bellamy smirked, turning toward Y/N, “Your idea?” She shook her head, “Finn’s, and we gotta hurry. Now.”

Bellamy grasped the pliers from her hands and moved toward the opposite wall, her anger spilling out of her as Finn finished her thoughts for her, “What the hell are you doing?”

He had cut Murphy free.

“He’s the only one who’s been to their camp.” Bellamy explained as if Murphy’s presence being needed was the most obvious solution in the world.

Y/N rolled her eyes, moving forward to meet Murphy, “You shoot me again, and I promise I will kill you.”

His response was cut off by the appearance of Monroe, “Hey, Sterling just signalled, someone’s coming.”

The four of them ducked out, closing the panel behind them as Alpha station dropped them back by the medical tent.

“You’re late” Abby scolded, David by her side as their flashlights lit up the area surrounding the gate.

“Bellamy decided to bring company” Finn retorted.

Bellamy sighed, pulling Murphy’s bonds tighter, “He’s the only one that’s been to their camp.”

The two adults nodded before handing off the firearms to the delinquents, David entrusting his own pistol to Y/N, his gaze never leaving hers.

“Find my son, his name is Nathan Miller.”

She didn’t need to know that.

She knew exactly who to look for.

She knew exactly who she had failed.

***

DM Taglist (closed): @chloe-skywalker​ @im-a-writer-right​ @clarkewithameme​ @shatteredlovesick​ @your-typical-giggle​ @rhyxn​ @amongthewildthingss​ @furiouspockettoad​ @niammain​ @cxddlyash​ @lena-davina @kaylinfayezink​ @gingerxarmy​ @super-marvel-dale​ @travelnottogoanywherebuttogo​ @nerdbookish​ @valeskasecco @strangerliaa​ @simsvetements​ @molethemollie​ @thebookisbtr​ @im-a-stranger-thing​ @jordangdelacruz​ @oopsiedoopsie23​ @multifandombookstore​ @okj232 @asian-male-enthusiast​ @minigranger​ @jooheonbee​ @libraryoffandomsuniverse​ @pancakefancake​ @weird-pale-blonde-person​

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness 177: Let Me Have This Moment

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

Weiss and I were waiting at the airfield. I glanced around way over Weiss’s head. Travelers were coming and going. Embarking and disembarking on ships of all sorts of sizes. Massive cruisers and the lingering Atlas Battleships swept up and down onto the airstrips. Smaller private liners landed and took off like little gnats compared to the larger ships. 

“So…” Weiss began. She was searching for her words carefully. “So I was thinking.”

“Okay? This doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s nothing bad. Don’t be a coward. Well, it’s not necessarily bad.”

“Shoot.”

“I think we should stop trying. It’s been a month and nothing has come of it. And if I’m getting married within the next nine months I don’t want to get married pregnant. We can start trying on our honeymoon again. Does that sound alright?”

“That’s really your decision.”

“You have a say too.”

“Do I though?” I asked. “Could I really demand that you keep trying when you just said you don’t want to? Could I actually? Think about it. It’s your body. What you say goes.”

“Is that really fair?”

“Pretty fair. You’re the one who would have to carry the thing.”

“Baby,” she corrected. “We call those ‘things’ babies.”

“Yeah that. One of those,” I agreed. “An infant. You’d be the one dealing with hormones and weight changes and body changes and pushing it out and feeding it and mood swings. What am I gonna do? Ejaculate and evacuate? There’s nothing I could do to help.”

“You’ll be there suffering along with Ruby and I. There will be two pregnant women for you to attend to at once. You will suffer, don’t worry.”

“Yay?” I wondered. 

“So, I think we should stop trying until we have the wedding. What’s our budget look like for that?”

“Under two million?”

“You have no idea how much weddings cost, do you?”

“Under two million.”

She whacked me in the chest with the back of her hand and smirked up at me. 

“Well, yes. But with just our small group of family and friends it can’t be more than two hundred thousand. And that’s fairly extravagant for twenty or thirty people. And it’ll probably be fewer than twenty people.”

“Okay? I don’t have a very good picture of money. All my life I’ve just sort of earned it way too easily. Like way too easily. Other people struggle but I make the stuff hand over fist.”

“Plus you robbed a mob boss.”

“I did do that.”

“That’s dirty money.”

“What money isn’t dirty money? It’s all filthy. Money is kinda gross when you think about what it really is.”

“I suppose that’s true to a certain extent…”

An Atlas airship swung down into the bay in the mountain. It was a decent sized passenger liner. 

“Is that Ruby’s flight?” I asked Weiss.

“I think so…”

“Do we just wait?” 

“Well you made the sign.”

I shuffled the ‘Ruby Rose’ sign in my hands. I did make the sign. I did. Weiss and I were both in our hunter clothes which for Weiss was that white dress with a blue sash and tassels. She had her blade by her side and the little box containing Ruby’s engagement necklace in it in the palm of one hand. She opened the box and peeked inside. Then she carefully manipulated the locket so its face was just so within the box and closed it again. Then she carefully held it in one hand so the face would still be forward when we presented it to Ruby. She exhaled hard.

“Relax,” I told her helpfully. 

“Thanks for the tip,” she sassed. 

“You’re the one who’s so sure she’ll say ‘yes.’”

“I mean… probably. Right? Why wouldn’t she say ‘yes?’” 

“Don’t trip. This was your idea. Don’t start flaking on me now.”

“You’re right, of course you’re right.”

We spotted Ruby making her way off the airship with her bags and weapon on her back. She was beautiful with wolfish bangs and hair that was red just at the tips. She wore a tight corset that led down to a skirt and tight leggings but the leggings stopped above the knee and skirt only went down to about mid thigh so there was this space of white flesh shown off that was dimpled by the leggings. Her developed chest was pushed up and out by the corset and I think Weiss and I both sighed when we saw her but it could have just been me or it could have just been her. Somebody sighed was the point. At least one of us did. 

It was apparent when Ruby saw us. She jumped excitedly and paced over to us at a rush. As she got closer I was able to make out her eyes. 

Man, if Ruby thought she could just look up at me with those eyes and get whatever she wanted, then she was totally correct.

“You guys!” She ran up and threw her arms around Weiss jostling the box Weiss was holding. Weiss hugged her back and I lowered down the sign I was hefting and grinned as I watched the two of them embrace. Ruby drew back and pressed her lips against Weiss’s and I saw Weiss melt into the kiss with a smile.

“Sweetheart,” I greeted with a grin. 

She drew back and turned to me. I dropped the sign and swung her up into my arms. She wrapped her hands over my shoulders as I easily held her aloft in one arm. Then she grinned and kissed my cheek. She chased that kiss with another one on my lips. My free hand came up to her cheek and cupped it gently while I kissed her back. Then I lowered her and set her to her feet on the ground. 

“You guys! I missed you both so much. And Jaune it’s been a long time. Too long. Way too long. Never do that again!”

“Fair enough. Yeah. Fair cop.”

“Ruby…” Weiss muttered and she glanced at me. I just nodded a little with a small smile. 

Weiss and I got down on our knees. 

“You guys!” 

Weiss opened the box. 

“Ruby Rose, won’t you marry us?” Weiss asked.

“Of course I will! Finally!”

I laughed. Weiss took the necklace out of the box and stepped behind Ruby to put it around her neck.

“How are we doing this?” Ruby asked.

“No idea,” I said.

“He does too.” Weiss waved exasperatedly. “We’re going to pair off for the engagement presents and we’re going to modify one another’s weapons slightly.”

Ruby jumped a little in place.

“It’s so exciting. We need to plan the wedding and we need to invite my family. And Blake and Penny and Oscar and who else do we know?”

“I was going to invite the butler who raised me to walk me down the aisle.”

“I have no one to invite,” I declared. “Well, no one who would be appropriate to invite. Just a crowd of enemies, really. That would be interesting,” I admitted. 

“Ooh this is so exciting. I’m going to be married. Mrs. Arc. Me. And you? Weiss?”

“Me too,” Weiss smiled. “I’ll take his name as well. I’m probably ending my family name but that may be for the best.”

“And kids. How many am I allowed to have? Jaune? Weiss?”

“How about we start with one and see where that takes us…” I trailed. “If - you know, nothing horrific happens, then I don’t know. Less than five. Don’t destroy me, Rubes.”

“Nothing bad will happen. You’ll see, Jaune. Oh my gosh there’s so much to plan. Have we set a date yet? Weiss and I need dresses. And we have to get a cake organized. And what kind of cake do you two want? And instead of little figurines can we have miniature versions of our weapons on top? And where do you want it to be? Where are we going for our honeymoon? What’s our budget look like? Where are we staying? Can we buy a house? Where are we going to raise our babies? Anywhere in the whole world. Where would you two pick? Oh, I suppose we want Jaune to keep his job. So somewhere here or near Vale? Like Patch? Oh we could buy a nice big house out in Patch. Big enough for all the babies and us three. And Jaune can fly. He can really commute without a problem. And it’s such a safe job. The safest he could have gotten. I mean… the sort of missions he could be being sent on by any of the councils or militaries could just be the most dangerous. They only pass you up to harder missions the better you are. It’s such a good job. It pays well enough and he can really stay close to home and not have to travel much. What do you guys think?”

“I agree completely. He should keep his job right here.”

I glanced at Weiss. They both turned to look up at me at the same time. I sighed.

“I have to kill my dad. And I have to butcher my mom. I can’t stay teaching forever and make my family someone else’s problem.”

“Why not?” Ruby asked. “Why can’t we have our lives?”

“Weiss, come on, can you really sit back and do nothing while your family makes a mess out of things?”

“I’m not going to do nothing. But dealing with my family and dealing with yours are two seperate things. Yours is a whole mess of trouble that is never really going to get solved.”

I sighed. I looked down at them. Ruby was looking up at me with those big fucking eyes. Weiss folded her arms and raised an elegant white brow on her scar side. 

I turned away.

“I can’t do nothing. It’s my responsibility. Can you really ask me to not do anything and let more and more people die? It’s a fucking meat grinder out there. My Mother isn’t going to stop. How many other hunters should I let get blended up? I can put a stop to it. I can end this whole cycle of suffering. It’s on me. It falls on me. Ruby… would you really love me if I put it aside for someone else to deal with? If I condemned other people to face her. If I made someone else take my place. Really?” I side eyed her. “Could you really sleep soundly beside me each night knowing what I let other people face in my stead?”

When one of us looked away it wasn’t me. 

“...no…it’s what makes you a hero,” she muttered and she eyeballed Weiss. Weiss let her arms droop and sighed despairingly. “But we can have both. We can beat Salem. But we can also live our lives. I really believe that we can. I do expect you to face your mother. But not today, this week, this month, or even this year.”

“My father has to be stopped. That’s next on my agenda.”

“Marrying us should be next on your agenda,” Weiss cut in.

“I thought that was first?” I asked. “You have my accounts. You have my schedule. Just ask me. I’m yours. For this year I belong to you. But I also belong to the world. It falls on me to slice up my Mother and put an end to this train of human suffering. And humanity will grow and blossom without her withering influence. Maybe the sort of world peace the gods expect from us will happen one day and Oscar will be able to unite the world. But it comes down on me. I’m the one with the power to face my Mother and I’m growing weaker now. I was getting stronger but recently I’ve been faltering more and more. The more time I waste the more other people get hurt and my chances of success fall too. If I’m not at my best she will destroy me. Like a bug on a windshield. She won’t even need to use my sisters against me but she can. My best chance to take her down is right now.” I pointed at the ground to emphasize my point. 

“But I’m asking you to wait. We’re asking you to wait,” Ruby informed me. “Wait. It’ll be okay. Live with us.”

I breathed deeply. I… I couldn’t say ‘no’ to her. Not really. Never could. Maybe that was a weakness of mine. If I could look at her and tell her ‘no’ and start flying in my Mother’s direction I could end this today. I could still feel her out there on the edge of my thoughts. She hung like a piano over my head ready to crash down on me.  

“Fine. Yes. Sure,” I bit out. “But one day you’ll have to let me go to her…”

“We will,” Weiss whispered. “We’ll let you go.”

“We’ll release you. We will.”

“I’ll die,” I warned. “She’ll kill me,” I said without emotion. 

They said nothing. They looked between each other but I marched forward. 

“I might get her but she will get me. And if she doesn’t, then my sisters will. You have to let me go anyway. You have to let me go knowing that.”

“Jaune…” Weiss trailed. “You don’t know that.”

“Yeah. I do. And you do too,” I said. 

Weiss frowned but didn’t have a ready retort. 

“All the more reason to spend some time with us,” Ruby pressed. “Don’t you think? Just a little more time together…”

“It will never be enough, though. You have to see that. You’re always going to want more. You’re going to want even more time. No matter how much I give you it will never be enough and you’ll never be satisfied.”

“Let us have this at least,” Weiss demanded. “Don’t start leaving us now. We only just got all together. There’s no need for this. We don’t want you to go now. We want you to be with us now. All of you. Your mind and your body and your soul. Don’t start straying from us the moment we’re finally one again. Let us have this moment. Ruby just said yes to us. What more do you want? Why do you have to undermine it? Just be with us.”

“Let me have this moment,” Ruby pleaded. “This moment with you and Weiss when we’re all engaged. Let me have the moment where I see your face as I walk down the aisle. Let me have the moment where we hold our babies in our arms. I’ll let you go. I will.”

“You know that I will too…” Weiss murmured. “I can’t hold you back from your destiny. And I believe you have the power to stop Salem. I won’t stay your hand. But you have to be with us the rest of the time. You can’t be pulled apart by your worries. You need to really be with us. Not partially but all the way.”

“I can’t do that either. She lingers like a curse on me. I’ll always have to look over my shoulder… but I can give you the rest,” I promised. “And if nothing horrible happens I’ll give you as many kids as you want. Well, not as many. But quite a few. No more than I have fingers for.”

“You always have to tag with that, don’t you?” Weiss leveraged. “Something ‘horrible.’ They’re our babies. Let’s be optimistic.”

“We still don’t know if I’m not using an empty revolver.”

“Please. Little Jaune is a rifle,” Ruby cut me off. “Call a spade a spade, at least.”

“Um. Anyways,” I shrugged that ego boost off as well as I was able. And I was pretty good at it. Not gonna lie. “We tried for a month straight and nothing happened. And I’m probably the issue. Not you, Weiss. You’re young and healthy.”

“And you’re not?” Weiss continued. 

“You know I’m not. I’m old for my age.”

“Five or four,” Weiss informed me. 

“Yeah. Five,” I agreed. It really was so young. So many people got so many years. Even in our hellish world. They got to grow up. They got to live. They got to grow old. They got to die. 

I was cutting to the chase. I didn’t get to grow up. I got grown. And if I wasn’t careful I wouldn’t get to do much living as I aged rapidly. I would definitely die. All people did. All people should. Everyone got that privilege. Except for my Mother. She always had to be the exception to the rule. My Mother… my fucking Mother.

The eternal bitch. 

I sighed heavily. 

“I’m only five. I should be worried about kindergarten. And the cutest girls in class. And trying to make my parents proud. Not… not having kids, or wives, or saving the world from that alien. I’m matricidal and patricidal. And I’ll be sororicidal too. I don’t want to kill my sisters but I will. So it counts.”

“You always stack the deck against yourself,” Weiss dismissed. “You always have. You can’t see the good parts of who you are and what you do. It’s not like you asked for your family to be evil. And you take it on yourself to solve it. That’s what a hero would do.”

“You can’t see that you’re a hero. You’re blind to yourself,” Ruby pointed. “We’re going to work on that.”

“We have time, Jaune. You’ll see. You’ll have all the time you need to become a good father and a good husband before you save the world and come back to us. And you’ll see that having kids is easier than you think.”

“I… I doubt it. I bet having kids and doing a good job is hard as fuck.”

“I told you to work on your language. Start with that. We probably have just been getting unlucky but we’ll get it right. If we need to, we’ll get tested. There’s always medical programs to assist with pregnancies if we really need them. You worry far more than is healthy. I do too, I can admit that. But we have Ruby now. All together we really can figure this out. There’s nothing we can’t do. I know you don’t always feel that way. So we’ll just have to show you. We’ll show you what you’re really capable of.”

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

-WG

[nerianasims]

Billboard #1s 1986

Under the cut.

Dionne & Friends -- "That's What Friends Are For" -- January 18, 1986

While listening to this song, I think it's a very squishy ballad with a nice sentiment that's not for me but is tolerable. Until a certain point. That point is when Elton John has his big part. Dionne Warwick, Stevie Wonder, Gladys Knight: Great, amazing, I love them, and though their talents are wasted on a song this slight, they make it listenable. Elton John's talents are not wasted on a song this slight. Couldn't they have brought in someone else? There's no way Prince would do something like this, but what about Paul McCartney? Kenny Loggins? Billy Ocean? I guess George Michael was too young for the song's schtick. But I'd take even Lionel Richie over Elton John.

Whitney Houston -- "How Will I Know" -- February 15, 1986

Whitney Houston was an amazing, phenomenally talented singer. And she oversang. Almost all the time. She didn't have to; she knew how to sing with subtlety and grace. But oversinging was (and is) popular, so that's what she did. It means I don't like most of her songs, including this one.

Mr. Mister -- "Kyrie" -- March 1, 1986

I'm not Christian any more, but one can pull inspiration from anywhere. I love the phrase "kyrie eleison." There's something beautiful about that combination of sounds, and there's also something beautiful about the sentiment. The music does not live up to it, unfortunately, though the opening is gorgeous. It also gets super repetitive at the end. It's pretty good, but I want it to be great, and sadly it is not.

Starship -- "Sara" -- March 15, 1986

I'm going to have to listen to "White Rabbit" a dozen times to cleanse this from my brain. A band that used to do stuff like that devolving into making this garbage is extremely depressing. This song starts with music box tinkling which sounds nice. Then saxophone over it which... okay. Just the sax would have been nice, but over the music box it's a little much, but I can keep going with it. Then they add a harmonica layered over it, and it's like I'm listening to a parody of mid-80s easy listening. And then randomly there's a drum crash and the weak voice of this guy comes in along with massive synth, and I start to wonder if I'm being punked. Are we sure this song wasn't a joke?

Heart -- "These Dreams" -- March 22, 1986

I watched the video probably hundreds of times when I was a kid. (On Betamax!) I adore this song. I got to it and went well, this is gonna win 1986, because there's only so much rational distance I can take from what was my favorite pop song when I was 9 years old. This song didn't start my Romantic sensibility, but it spoke to what was already in bloom. "There's something out there I can't resist." We'll see what else is on the list.

Falco -- "Rock Me Amadeus" -- March 29, 1986

I love the movie Amadeus, even though it constitutes a massive slander against poor Salieri. It gets Mozart pretty spot-on though. And I always loved classical music, was surrounded by it from infancy, so I was glad to see its popularity spread by the movie. (Yes, at age nine. I've always been a huge nerd.) This song is really fun and well-made too, though of course I can't understand any of the German lyrics.

Prince -- "Kiss" -- April 19, 1986

Prince sings this almost entirely in falsetto, so one would guess I would hate it, since falsetto usually sends me running in the other direction. One would be wrong. I adore it. Prince was that kind of artist -- he could get away with anything. He was notoriously arrogant, but was it really arrogance when it was just a proper conception of his own abilities? Anyway,

of course "you don't have to be cool to rule my world" deeply spoke to my experiences. I was the most uncool girl in school. Until high school, when somehow my not giving a damn about being cool (as I'd failed at it my whole life) actually helped me.

Also when Prince drops to a low note on the last "kiss," it is incredibly hot.

Robert Palmer -- "Addicted to Love" -- May 3, 1986

I have no idea what I'd think of this song without the video. The video infuriates me. The clone-looking emotionless women aren't "sexualized." No, you have to be treated like a human being on at least some level for that. They are purely objectified, treated literally as blank interchangeable things, with nothing at all inside them. The song is skeevy anyway, though I guess the music's good. But blech.

Pet Shop Boys -- "West End Girls" -- May 10, 1986

I've never liked this song and I've never really understood why. It's the kind of song I felt I should like. But I've always felt (since I noticed it as a teenager) that there was something missing. Now I know why: According to the Stereogum article about it, the band leader doesn't like rock n'roll, and is a pop critic. Oh. Some rock is exactly what this song needs. Without it, it's too cold and removed, and to me sounds smug. Also how can you be a pop critic and not like rock n' roll? That is a wrongness.

Whitney Houston -- "Greatest Love of All" -- May 17, 1986

Whitney Houston doesn't oversing on this song as much as usual, so that's good. Though she still oversings. What's not good are the music and lyrics. The music is bland as can be. Lyrically, it starts with "I believe the children are our future" and there's a verse about "the beauty they possess inside." Blargh.

Then after the first verse there's a total change in theme, going into how the narrator never found anyone to look up to. And that the "greatest love" is loving yourself and only depending on yourself and no one else. I despise this sentiment deep in my bones. Not of loving yourself -- though the song claims that's "easy to achieve," which is bollocks of the first order. Rather that you should only depend on yourself. That's literally inhuman. We are social creatures; without depending on each other, we are adrift in nothingness. So yeah. I hate this song.

Madonna -- "Live to Tell" -- June 7, 1986

This song gives me chills. The music is gorgeous and perfectly suited to the lyrics. I listened to the "True Blue" tape many, many times from about age 10 until, um. Well, I listened to the album on Spotify the other night. This song is the standout for me on it. I always thought that Madonna was singing about having been emotionally abused as a child herself. That is apparently not it at all; it's a song for a movie soundtrack. But to me it's about familial abuse. And always has been. It felt like she was singing for me. "The light that you could never see/ It shines inside, you can't take that from me."

Patti LaBelle & Michael McDonald -- "On My Own" -- June 14, 1986

Not the Les Miz song, sadly. It's about how the narrators are breaking up. Patti LaBelle is great, but I am so bored. Michael McDonald isn't bad, but he can't match Patti LaBelle, and even she can't stop this song from being deadly dull. It took me like 5 tries to be able to listen to the whole thing.

Billy Ocean -- "There'll Be Sad Songs (To Make You Cry)" -- July 5, 1986

What makes someone decide to put a parenthetical in a song title? Is there a formula? Anyway, he's singing (in his head) to someone he wants to be with. The "sad songs" are not actually supposed to be sad songs, it seems, but love songs that make him think of her. I guess. I don't know. Something about this song is turning my brain to mush. The tinkly parts and the violins are nice I guess. But I'm going to fall asleep at my desk if I try to listen to this song any more.

Simply Red -- "Holding Back the Years" -- July 12, 1986

Just looking at the lyrics, this song should be deeply depressing. He feels that so far his life has been a waste, but somehow he'll "keep holding on." There's a beautiful saxophone part. The song is not depressing -- it's Blues. It's terribly sad and cathartic at the same time. I'm not thrilled with Mick Hucknall's voice though.

Genesis -- "Invisible Touch" -- July 19, 1986

I did not pay attention to any of the lyrics of this song except the chorus until just now. I thought it was about a woman with an "invisible touch" whom people fall for left and right, and that's true. What I did not know was that she was supposed to be doing it on purpose. Which, okay, sort of like "Maneater"? Except no, because "Well I don't really know her, I only know her name." Then how do you know this about her?! He sounds like a stalker. Or this sounds like a first draft. The music is good enough, and the chorus could make for a good song around it lyrically, if they had bothered with that.

Peter Gabriel -- "Sledgehammer" -- July 26, 1986

I used to think this song was meant to be about a guy who was going to basically tank for you (and also have sex with you.) Well, apparently he wants to solve only one of your problems in particular: namely, that of your lacking orgasms. The "sledgehammer" is supposed to be a metaphor for his dick. Ow? Whatever, I'm going with my own interpretation of it. I like the beginning flute part, which is actually from a keyboard demo. It's a fun song, but it gets pretty repetitive.

Peter Cetera -- "Glory of Love" -- August 2, 1986

"We did it all for the glory of love" is a sentiment I usually adore. But this song is a limp dishrag. Did what for the glory of love? Why does she seem to be thinking of leaving him? And Peter Cetera being "the man who will fight for your honor" is a hilarious idea. His voice is nasally and he sounds like a faker. He comes off as someone who only vaguely understands the small-r romance of flowers and chocolates, and not at all as someone who understands the Romance of a castle far away. Bryan Adams did much better with this kind of thing in the 90s.

Madonna -- "Papa Don't Preach" -- August 16, 1986

The article I'm reading about this says there was a controversy over this song regarding abortion somehow, with left-wingers being upset that the narrator didn't consider it and right-wingers praising her for keeping the baby. Maybe in California. That is not what I remember in Michigan, and I do clearly remember a controversy. What I remember is right-wingers being absolutely incensed that Madonna was singing about the pregnancy of an unmarried young woman (or teenager, though I always felt the narrator was college-age) at all. I also remember one on the radio being angry that this working class girl was keeping her baby rather than giving it up to a rich family.

It is a really good song. Actually it is kinda Romantic. The narrator's in a dramatic life-changing situation, she has to choose whether or not to marry a guy before she's sure she's ready, and there are intense violins. Her father disapproves of her boyfriend, but she needs her father's advice. She's also not ashamed. She's in a difficult situation, but there's no guilt. Good. And this is what made so many people so angry with Madonna, and what was so deeply important about Madonna. She refused to even pretend to be guilty about sex in her music, ever.

Steve Winwood -- "Higher Love" -- August 30, 1986

I think this is about wanting to believe in a god. But then there's "I could make the sun shine from pure desire." Maybe it's about Aphrodite. Chaka Khan sings on this song, and she's obviously the best thing about it. It's not great, but it's enjoyable enough.

Bananarama -- "Venus" -- September 6, 1986

Speaking of higher loves. Bananarama are obviously having a wonderful time singing this 80s dance version of this song, and who wouldn't? The "she's got it" of the song of course also means "I've got it", hence "I'm your Venus." And Bananarama leans into that in a really fun way. It's a great version of a great song.

Berlin -- "Take My Breath Away" -- September 13, 1986

This is the big love ballad from Top Gun. I have managed to escape ever seeing Top Gun, though I've picked up some ideas about it. Mainly that it's a commercial for the U.S. air force, that Tom Cruise looks blank in it a lot, and that there's some kind of volleyball scene. Before I knew it was a commercial for the U.S. air force and therefore avoided it, I avoided it because of Tom Cruise. He has always been a total cold shower to me. As I've said since I started noticing these things (which was right around 1986), he reminds me of a Ken doll.

So the song. It sounds more like it belongs with a fantasy movie than in a modern military movie. Though I guess Top Gun is a fantasy too. But not the kind in which people usually look through hourglasses. It's a big, emotional ballad. I like it but I don't love it. If it weren't associated with Top Gun possibly I'd like it more.

Huey Lewis and the News -- "Stuck With You" -- September 20, 1986

This is a middle-aged man singing to his middle-aged wife about how he's "happy to be stuck with you." It's like if dad jokes became sentient and got married. It's cute and bouncy, and honestly pretty true-to-life. You can't be all higher love all the time.

Janet Jackson -- "When I Think of You" -- October 11, 1986

If "Nasty" had gotten to #1, it would have taken my "best of the year" spot. Sadly, it didn't, and this was Janet Jackson's first #1. "When I Think of You" is a really good song though. Janet Jackson is the best of the Jacksons and always was in every way. I think she was even a better dancer than Michael. (I don't know about "is", considering her age, but she's still a better artist.) "When I Think of You" is a very simple love song lyrically. When her "world gets crazy," she thinks of you to calm down. If this were easy listening, it would be unbearable. But it's a dance song, and a fun one. There's some great bass and interesting syncopation.

Cyndi Lauper -- "True Colors" -- October 25, 1986

This is such a beautiful song. It's helped me through some rough times ever since it came out -- the tape it's on was one of my first. It's straightforward in both lyrics and music, so there's not much to say about it besides that it's a great song.

Boston -- "Amanda" -- November 8, 1986

I am listening to this song now, and I don't recognize it. When they get to the chorus near the end it sounds kinda familiar, but I'm not sure that's because I recognize this song in particular, or because it sounds like every song like this in existence was put in a blender and this is the resulting slurry. Either this wasn't played on the radio much where I lived, or I changed the channel as soon as it was. It wants to be a power ballad, but it's an absolute nothing.

The Human League -- "Human" -- November 22, 1986

I guess it's an apology song, but "I'm only human" doesn't sit right with me as a real apology for something truly bad. He cheated on her. Which I do consider forgivable, depending on the circumstances and apology, but his is that she wasn't around so he was driven to cheat on her. And he should forgive her because he's "only human." Then the woman comes in and says she cheated on him too when they were apart, because she's human too. That makes the song tolerable. Maybe they need an open relationship. They still both sound whiny. And I don't like the music. It's boring and repetitive.

Bon Jovi -- "You Give Love a Bad Name" -- November 29, 1986

SHOT THROUGH THE HEART! AND YOU'RE TO BLAME! I love this song. Also I thought Jon Bon Jovi was hot at the time, though nowadays that 80s perm is hilarious. His voice is still hot though (so is he nowadays, grey hair and all, with his more contemporary haircut.) This song got plenty of radio play. Still does. And deserves it. It's technically a heartbreak song I suppose, but the video gets it right: It's Bon Jovi goofing around on stage in front of a joyous crowd. I love the bass, I love the guitars, and I did mention Jon Bon Jovi's voice is hot, right? Voices over looks every time for me, though both together is obviously welcome.

Peter Cetera and Amy Grant -- "The Next Time I Fall" -- December 6, 1986

Christian fundies had a deep and abiding hatred for Peter Cetera. Maybe they still do. I encountered this multiple times online over the years, and finally looked it up -- it's because of this song. Amy Grant used to be a singer of Christian music only. Then she had a pop hit with this dweeb, and certain usual suspects decided she was being corrupted by him.

The only way this song could corrupt anyone is if they started smashing things because they were so bored. The narrators have been heartbroken but are gonna try it again with each other, and it's as passionless as possible. Amy Grant's a better singer than Cetera by a ways, as she does not sing through her nose, but it's not like anyone could elevate this sludge.

Bruce Hornsby and the Range -- "The Way It Is" -- December 13, 1986

People are racist and treat poor people like shit. And people say that's just the way it is, but don't you believe them. This is true. We have come incredibly far, and things change. It's a good sermon, but as a song it's too simplistic for me, both musically and lyrically. I agree with the sentiment, but it's not a song I really want to listen to either.

The Bangles -- "Walk Like an Egyptian" -- December 20, 1986

Of course I loved this song when I was a kid, all the kids did. But I was already a Bangles fan. I had their first tape, which is their best and has the least pop sheen. I would prefer "Hero Takes a Fall" had been a big hit, but oh well. "Walk Like an Egyptian" is still fun.

BEST OF 1986 -- "These Dreams" by Heart  WORST OF 1986 -- "Sara" by Starship

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Chaos Theory

Part Six

(Even after the disaster of the last part, there are more puzzles to solve. The three boys better hurry on this one, or else there will be consequences.)

They stopped only a few blocks away from the building, sitting on a street corner. Jackie made them stop, despite the fact that they all wanted to get farther away. He remembered the gamemaster’s warning about taking too long, and nerves started eating away at his stomach.

“Here, give me the laptop,” Jackie said. JJ handed him the box with the computer inside.

Chase watched as Jackie booted it up. “I...you know, I’m still not entirely sure what’s going on.” He sounded almost apologetic.

“We’re in Saw,” Jackie said, not taking his eyes away from the screen. “Some psycho decided to kidnap the group and threatened me with your deaths if I didn’t play his fucked-up game and solve his puzzles.”

Chase whistled. “Well, shit.”

“Yeah.” Jackie opened his email, finding another message from the same user as before. This one had a zip folder titled ‘Set 3′ attached. He quickly unzipped it, finding a few files inside: an image called 3.png, a folder called ‘3′, and a text file titled ‘open me first.’ Jackie did so, and inside was a single url. He opened the browser and copy-pasted the url into the search bar.

At first, the three of them found it hard to tell what they were looking at. The website was mostly black, with some white text, and a square that showed a dark video. Until they realized something was moving in the video. Jackie ran his hand through the box until he found the earbuds, plugging them into the laptop and putting them on. Suddenly, when he clicked the little sound icon on the video, he could hear the sound of rushing water and splashing, along with muffled cries and whimpers. His heart sank. “I’m gonna...” He turned up the brightness on the laptop.

Chase gasped. Jameson covered his mouth with his hand, eyes wide. Jackie leaned back. Marvin was in the video, bound and gagged. He was stuck inside a box with glass walls, small enough that he couldn’t straighten his legs. There was water slowly flowing into the box from a connected pipe. There was also a timer in the corner of the video, counting down: 55:12, 55:11, 55:10...

The time on the laptop’s clock read 3:03am.

“Is...is this live?” Chase asked.

“I think it is,” Jackie muttered.

“You can livestream shit like this?!” Chase shook his head. “Why haven’t the police—or whoever—why hasn’t someone stopped this?!”

“Well, firstly, because this video has probably only been active since tonight. And secondly, because you’d be surprised what goes up online.” Jackie leaned closer to the screen, looking around the website. “The Dark Web, you know? There are several sites that are like Twitch for sadists.” Unconsciously, he rubbed his left arm. “I don’t recognize this one, though.”

JJ snapped his fingers, drawing the other two’s attention. There is a timer in this video! he signed in obvious distress. And it’s counting down. I don’t think we want to find out what will happen when it reaches zero.

Jackie shoot his head. “You’re right. We need to hurry. My guess is that timer is how long it’ll take for that box to fill up with water, and then...” He shuddered, immediately closing the web page. “We have to find out where that is. And it’s going to be in the puzzles, just like before.”

He clicked on the 3.png image. It opened to a picture with a dark red background and black text reading: “SEEK THROUGH THE CATALOG, FIND WHAT’S BELOW.” The text was followed by that symbol of a skull inside a hollow circle, divided in four. Below the text were three black-and-white photographs with captions beneath them: a black wand with white ends labeled “Magic Wand,” a spread-out deck of cards labelled “Card Game,” and a white fluffy cat labeled “Norwegian Forest Cat.”

Jackie frowned. “Okay, I don’t know what this means other than some sort of instructions, so I’m just going to plug this image into the editing program and see if anything shows up when I play with sliders.”

It sounds like we’re meant to find those images in some sort of catalog, JJ figured. But what catalog?

“I dunno. Maybe it’s in that other folder. You know, that came with this?” Chase wondered.

Jackie paused. “Maybe. I haven’t found anything in this image yet, so we can look what’s in there.” He went back into the files and opened the folder labeled 3.

What was inside were countless black-and-white photos, all with names written in numbers and a few letters. “What the...?” Jackie scrolled down...and down...and down...until he grabbed the scroll bar with his mouse and pulled it all the way to the bottom. “There must be hundreds of images in here!”

“Jesus,” Chase muttered. “Uh, I think this is the catalog.”

“How are we supposed to find three pictures out of all these?!” Jackie threw his hands in the air. “That could take hours! W-we don’t have that much time!” Jackie clasped his hand over his mouth, trying and failing to keep his eyes from watering. “It was rigged. This whole thing was rigged, we were never going to win it.” He blinked, and tears started falling down his face. He’d been scrambling, frantically trying to complete puzzles and reach the locations quickly, only for this? For two of his friends to die without him being able to do anything about it? What a sick game this was.

“No no no no, there has to be a way,” Chase took the laptop, using the mousepad to scroll through the photos, eyes scanning in rows. “Maybe they’re really early on, and this is meant to discourage us.”

“Chase, I don’t think that’s the case.” Jackie buried his hands in his folded arms. He was shaking.

“No, listen, there has to be a way.” Chase didn’t take his eyes off the screen. “This guy’s a sick fuck, but he also has another set of puzzles after this, he’s not gonna rig it so you fail before getting to that last set. There has to be a way to find—” He stopped, eyes suddenly widening. “We can use the find feature.”

Jackie looked up with red-rimmed eyes. “The what?”

“The find feature, the search bar, it’s built in to your files.” Chase circled the mouse around the search bar in the upper right corner of the window. “We just need to know what the images are called.”

“Well, uh...I think he gave us the image names. In the other picture, with the instructions.” Jackie gently took back the computer, switching to the other image. “See? Magic Wand, Card Game, and Norwegian Forest Cat.” Jackie typed the first phrase, Magic Wand, into the search bar. Nothing came up.

JJ tapped Jackie’s shoulder for attention. All the photo titles are in that same code from before, he pointed out. Perhaps we simply need to encode the titles of the images we’re looking for?

Jackie suddenly threw his arms around JJ. “Jameson Jackson, you’re a genius.” He let go, then turned to his other side and hugged Chase too. “And you also, Chase! I don’t know if I’d have thought of the search.”

“Aw, it’s nothing,” Chase muttered, smiling a bit.

Really no problem at all, JJ signed.

“Well, I would’ve been stuck for a while. And time is of the essence.” Jackie opened up the same online code converter from before. He typed in the first phrase again, and then copied the result—4d 61 67 69 63 20 57 61 6e 64—and pasted it into the file search bar. Immediately, the image they’d been looking for popped up. “Yes!” Jackie shouted, punching the air.

“Wait, something’s up.” Chase leaned over and opened the image. There was a strange bit at the bottom, taken up with a white and black boxy symbol. “That looks like...I dunno, part of a QR code.”

“How much do you want to bet the rest of the code is in the other two images?” Jackie muttered.

After encoding the other titles and finding the images, it was clear that the QR code was split up between the three images. Jackie plugged all three into the photo editor, and arranged them next to each other so the code was complete. He patted his suit. “Fuck, do either of you have your phone?”

Chase checked his pockets. “No. I last remember setting it down on my desk, but then I passed out and woke up in that...place.”

JJ waggled his mustache, and pulled out his phone with a grin.

“Jays, I love you so much,” Jackie laughed. “Oh, the old-fashioned man is the one with the smartphone, how ironic.”

JJ passed it to Jackie. It’s very helpful. I’m trying to make a habit of keeping it on my person.

“That’s a good idea.” Jackie leaned back a bit as he tried to get the entire code in view of the camera. Then he snapped a picture, and a notification immediately popped up, saying the code had been understood and explaining what it would do. “This’ll take us to a website...” Jackie said, clicking on the notification to activate the code. The browser on the phone opened up, 

Chase leaned over. “What’s that?”

“It’s a crossword puzzle.” Jackie groaned. He’d hoped the QR code would just give them the location to find Marvin, but no such luck. “Alright. Some of the squares are colored red, and at the bottom there’s this thing...” He scrolled down, and read out loud. “‘The address is 68′ and then a blank space. I bet we have to solve the crossword puzzle and then plug the letters from the red squares into this space to find the street address.”

Then what are we waiting for? JJ asked. What is the puzzle asking for?

Jackie looked through the hints. “Looks like a bunch of trivia...oh! I know the answer to number one! It’s Undertale.” Jackie smiled a bit. That was Marvin’s favorite game...thinking of Marvin, the smile faded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

By the time they finished, the clock read 3:25am. Piecing together the letters from the red squares, they came up with the address of 68 Aspen St. “That’s on the other side of town!” Jackie cried, distressed. “Okay. Okay, I can probably run there quickly, you guys will have to catch—”

“We can drive,” Chase suggested.

JJ frowned. Chase, I know you can drive, but you don’t have your car.

“There’s a car right there, in that parking lot.” Chase pointed diagonally across the street. There was indeed a single car in an empty lot. “Jackie, do you still know how to hotwire things?”

“Ah—I mean, yeah, but are we really about to steal a car?” Jackie asked tentatively.

It’s either that or let Marvin die! JJ signed furiously. We can return it after!

Jackie jumped at JJ’s sudden motion, but then nodded. “Yeah, guess it’s the lesser of two evils, huh?” He shut the laptop. “Alright. We have to hurry. If my math’s correct, we only have about half an hour before that timer counts down. Let’s go.”

[darkredehmption]

Minimally Invasive Interrogation

Written by @DamagedBrother and @OfFeatherNFang 

Zsadist: 

[I managed to stay awake the entire time but surprisingly the prisoner fell asleep. For a few hours I watched as he slept, wondering what that other half of him was. I didn’t get a sense of human but what else was there? After that got annoying, I found myself counting the tiles on the floor. There were five hundred and eighty two. I counted three times to make sure I was right. Then I remembered that V downloaded a few books on my phone so I read one of them. After that I went back to staring at the wall contemplating my whole life. It was a long night that was for sure. Soft snores still fill the air as I reach into my pocket to check my phone for the time. It was so close to the sun setting once again which meant that the brothers would be here shortly. Perfect. Then we could get to the bottom of this and I could rest. 

As I rose to my feet, I heard the door open. There was Vishous holding coffee in a Red Sox’s mug. I think that was the one Butch got him last year around the holidays. He sipped the warm beverage then offered me a taste. I declined and he shrugged taking in another gulp or two. We moved out into the hallway, my shoulders rolling as I stretched out a little. “How was your night?” It was funny he asked cause he was up watching it all from his four toys.]

Oh yeah it was great. [Snorts then watches the brother eye me. “Y’all were chatty in the beginning...get any information out of him?” I shrugged.] He started to freak on me so I had to control the situation. After that he ranted hardcore. Let it slip that he’s only half vampire which is making me believe the other half is something interesting...I mean he could be just half human which wouldn’t sit well with the Queen having him captured. Then again regardless of what he is I don’t think it will sit well with her at all. After that I told him to shut up and he eventually slept. [V nodded then muttered “At least someone did. Butch was a traitor and passed out on the couch. He lasted pretty long though. I got a bunch of work done so it was all good.”

Nodding before my attention is drawn to Cop who was rubbing at his eyes and making his way over to us. “Are we going to first meal? Cause I’m starving as fuck.” I nod] You guys can go. Gather the others and come down here when you are finished. [Vishous shook his head. “Z man, go eat. I’ll grab something from the Pit. Shaking my head as I peered in through the window on the door to the PT suite] I’m not hungry. Besides, I have a feeling he’s gonna wake soon. [Vishous eyed me up before looking at his best friend. “Grab me a bagel would ya?” Cop nodded then headed down the tunnel while V just returned to the Pit. Leaning against the door as I stood and waited for all the brothers to arrive.]

Mal:

I kept my eyes closed as the door opened, my breathing slow and even as I listened to the Brothers exchange greetings after a whole night in two different rooms. As they moved into the hallway I tuned out their chatter in favor of shifting my wrists, my ankles, trying to get blood moving after a night of laying perfectly still in the one position. My head ached faintly, but I’d put that down to whatever healing concussion the male had given me the night before.

When my body felt like it was finally awake… sort of… I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. My stomach snarled but I ignored it, not about to ask any of /them/ for anything. I’d kill to take a piss too, but again, whatever pride I had left was giving that idea a firm ‘no’. Besides, would hunger or bladder needs matter if the King brought his royal ass down here and decided to cut my head off? Doubtful. So preserving what little dignity and pride I had left seemed like the way to go.

“Is there any way to press the fast forward button on this shit, or do you all still stand on ceremony when you’re at home too?” I muttered, knowing the scarred male would hear me, even as I continued to stare at the ceiling. “The coffee lover, was he the voyeur? The one watching on the screen? Bet he was hoping for a better show,” I continue absently, as if I was talking to myself, which frankly, was better conversation. “Tell him if he slips me a hundred next time I’ll make it worth his while.”

Zsadist:

[Narrowing my eyes as I listened to the prisoner talk to himself in the room. I was going to step inside and tell him to shut the fuck up but then we would probably start having an actual conversation. And I needed to stop talking to him. So I decided to ignore it all and wait for Wrath and the others. I couldn’t help but peer in through the window again. His eyes caught mine and I stared for way too long. Grunting as I turn my attention away from the prisoner. Something just didn’t add up. Suddenly I was starting to think that maybe he wasn’t...the bad guy. Though he definitely was keeping something from the Brotherhood and that was not good. 

My head lifts as I hear a shit load of boots coming down the tunnels. Watching as Wrath and the others make their way towards me while V slips out of the pit. I inclined my head towards the King before I eyed the others. Wrath takes in a deep breath. “Thanks for staying up to keep guard Z. You can go get some much needed rest now.” Lifting my shoulders in a shrug as my eyes flickered to the door.]

I’m good. If it’s alright with you my Lord I'd like to sit in on this. [Normally I didn’t disobey an order from the King. Okay maybe I did, but this was something I wasn’t going to miss. I just spent the entire night watching this fucker and I was curious on how this would play out. Wrath’s brows disappear under this shades. He stays quiet for a moment then grunts out a response. “Fine. But you get some rest afterwards. You are off of rotation tonight. And I don’t want to hear a word about it.” I nod watching as he practically shoves the door open to the PT suite. This was it. I followed after the King and my brothers. Leaning against the wall in the far corner of the room. My eyes met the prisoners again.]

Mal:

I heard them coming, a small army of heavily armed individuals that didn’t have a problem with inflicting pain on the things that stood in their way. I knew because it was how a group of hunters sounded when they stalked back into a halfway house after a hunt. They greeted my warden, dismissed him, but… he stuck around. And I felt… relieved. Huh. Great. Stockholm Syndrome. Since when did that kick in after only twelve hours?

As the rest of them all filed in, I watched the scarred one, until his eyes met mine, and I forced myself to look back at the ceiling. The King settled out of reach, but close enough that one step and a swing would allow him to smack me silly, no problem. 

“I hope you enjoyed your nights accommodation. I’m sure that motel you mentioned won’t mind.”

I fought every sarcastic impulse not to roll my eyes. Or tell him to go fuck himself. At the end of the day, I suspected that he’d not want his minions to stab me just yet, but he couldn’t stop all of them from attempting it at one go.

“You’re /hilarious/,” I muttered instead, still not looking at him. “FYI the turn down service here isn’t really up to par.”

Several males still growled. But no daggers in my chest. #Win

“Well y’know how we fix that? Getting you back to whatever two star shithole you booked? You tell me what you were doing poking holes in Lessers. Are you a Bastard?”

Hilariously, yes, I was. Just not the kind I thought he was implying. Vaguely I recalled some mention of a Band of Bastards, but I certainly had nothing to do with the bunch. And why lie about that?

“No.”

“Then where did you get the balls to take on one of the Omega’s spawn? You like dancing with death?”

“Obviously, since I’m here chatting to you,” I growled back, finally turning my head to look at the Blind King. 

He didn’t respond for a moment, instead inhaling and adopting a sardonic smirk. Meanwhile all the Brothers shuffled, eager to get closer and ensure my restraints were in full working order by beating me and seeing if I could defend myself. 

“Y’know what’s interesting, son? That wasn’t a lie. You /do/ like dancing with death. So what, you caught the scent of a Lesser and thought ‘yes, I can finally punch my ticket to the Fade’?”

Closing my eyes, I weighed my options as I stuffed all my anger and righteous indignation back into whatever box it came from and locked the lid. More attitude was just going to prolong this, and like I said before… I was hungry, and I wanted to piss. So either this got sped up, or I provoked one of them into offing me and solving everyone’s problems. And if this King was sniffing for a lie? Then I just had to be honest.

“I hunt. I’m a hunter. That Lesser? He was just a workout for me. So I figured why not do the Brotherhood a favor before I get the fuck outta this town.”

And boy, did I want to get out of this town right now…

Zsadist:

[The prisoner’s eyes locked onto my own and I saw...relief? Was he glad that I was here? Hell, strangers normally wanted to stay far away from me. One look at my face and most went running in the other direction. I raised a dark brow and quickly his eyes shot up to the ceiling. Now that’s more like it. Snorting as my arms cross over my broad chest. Time to listen to see what he had to say. 

My attention is drawn to the King as he starts to grill the prisoner. Of course he comes back with all the sass. Rolling my golden eyes to the Fade. This guy was just fucking asking for it. I mean granted the King was the one who told us to capture him, but damn it’s like he didn’t care if he died. I straightened up when he growled at Wrath. We all stepped a little bit closer to that stretcher. Yes he was tied down, but that didn’t mean shit. He was disrespecting the King and we needed to have his back no matter what. 

Vishous took a dagger out and started to play with it. Tossing it in the air a few times as his eyes stayed locked onto the prisoner. Phury still had a curious look. Like he was waiting for the male to speak more about his Chosen mother. As for the others...they were just on high alert. Even Rhage. Not a tootsie pop in site. He was all business as he glared at the male. 

My eyes widen as the prisoner then dropped a bomb. He was a hunter? The fuck did he hunt? I mean the brothers weren’t there for our fight in the alleyway, but the male could throw a punch. As much as I would like to say keep lesser fighting for the pros, he could hold is own. Now wasn’t the time though to chime in on that. What would that make me? Vouching for the male all of a sudden? What he did was still fucked but at the same time if he’s a trained fighter then it was an instinct to attack and defend himself. Yes lessers were Brotherhood territory but maybe he wanted to join in on the fight. And we needed numbers more than anything right now.] 

Mal:

Wrath leaned in. It was almost comical simply for the reaction of the Brothers around him, all of them shuffling closer as he did. The one flipping a dagger up and down in my periphery clearly wanted somewhere to put it other than his sheath.

“You hunt, huh? I’m getting the distinct impression it’s not deer or elk,” the King grunted, folding his arms. Which just made him look more like a big, black painted wall. “We’ll circle back to that. If you’re that good, why not sign up for our trainee program then? You not interested in protecting the race?”

I bit back on the instant reply of ‘not my race’; one, because it wasn’t entirely true, and two, because it seemed like a good way to further divide the situation. But if there was supposed to be a familial feeling in me toward the people that made up half my entity? It began, and ended, with my mother. Period.

“No one was there to protect my mahmen when she had to flee or be someone’s bed warmer,” I said instead, my voice cool. “I came here for /her/, for whatever residual affection she has for the race that just as easily ignored her. But vampires were not my kin growing up. They were not my friends, my acquaintances or my distant relations. And look at this!” 

The anger peeked its head out as I yanked at the cuffs around my wrists, the skin re-opening slightly and my blood staining the bands. Every vampire took /another/ step forward bar the King, who simply cocked his head slightly, like he was listening to me bleed.

“I killed /one/ Lesser. One. Because even if I care nothing for this place or the race I’m supposed to be from, in good conscience I couldn’t leave it there to go off and kill a civilian. And what do I get for having a conscience? Locked up like an animal. Treated like a criminal. Turns out it’s true; no good deed goes unpunished.”

At this point, nearly every Brother was basically /at/ my gurney, bar my scarred warden, who was taking everything in with that contemplative look on his face. As if sensing it, the King turned his head toward him.

“Zsadist,” he growled. “You spent the night down here. He said he was a hunter. He say anything else of interest?” He paused to look back at me, his smile a little feral. “Cause everything he just said then was no lie. So things are looking up for you, kid. But there’s still a few unanswered questions here. Like ‘who’ you are. Where you came from. ‘Why’ you didn’t want to own up to Lesser slaying at the Audience House.”

Zsadist:

[My head whipped back and forth between the King and the prisoner. I was starting to get the feel that this male didn’t like his vampire side. But why? Maybe it had something to do with his Mahmen. Did she flood his head with stories of how shit used to be? Does this kid know how better things are now? Okay so it’s not perfect and the King is still working on things but it has gotten better. Wrath took time to listen to civilians, to make sure he always had the race’s best interests. When the King mentioned the trainee program I blinked. Hell, would he even accept that? Would it even be safe to have him here for that after all this? Listening to every detail they had to say that I almost didn’t notice everyone moved up until Wrath called me out. Blinking as I look around me then over to the King. Clearing my throat as I uncross my arms]

Not much. [Reaching up to scrub at my skull trim as I watch Vishous eye me up.] I mean...we talked about fighting in the alleyway. He complained a lot as one would do if they were strapped to a bed. [Hold up was I defending him? No. Can’t do that. Grunts.] He was being disrespectful so I just ended the conversation. Though he did let it slip that he’s half vampire...Which leads me to wonder what his other half is. [My eyes flicker to Butch then I shrug] I mean...I doubt he was made, but when we were out on the streets he didn’t dematerialize. Now maybe he was just too scared to do so. [Snorts loudly, smirking as I eyed the prisoner] Though from the punches he was throwing I highly doubt it. 

[Just as I was about to add more to that I watch as Wrath stiffens. His hands curled into fists and this time I move to join the others around him. Tohr speaks “What is it my-...” Before he could finish that sentence we all smelled her. The Queen. Blinking we pull back, turning to see her at the entrance to the PT suite. “What...did you guys...do?” Wrath turns in the direction of her scent, his voice a bit stern. “Leelan. It’s not safe for you here at the moment. Head back upstairs.” Shiiiiit. That was not going to fly well with Beth. We all took a step back as she moved forward, but still kept our eye on the prisoner. Beth glared at the King then frowned as she eyed the male on the stretcher. “He’s bleeding Wrath...He looks…like a trainee. Is this some kind of initiation?! Cause if it is you all have completely lost your minds!” 

Lifting a hand to scrub at my face. We were finally getting some truth out of this male and now it was a mess again. Fuck. I wanted to know what he was...Maybe it was human. Hell and if it was he could see Beth and maybe see that we aren’t all fucked here. Then what? Become a trainee? Clearly he has a job hunting something else. Though I started to have concerns about what exactly that was. If he wasn’t hunting lessers...then what? Humans...no. Shifters? Blinking at the thought.  He couldn’t be one of those vampires cause of his Mahmen being Chosen. Still...maybe his father was involved in that shit.]

Mal:

I hid a grimace as the warrior, Zsadist, mentioned my little slip of half n’ half, even if it was spliced in with a little sympathy at my predicament. Who’da thought? Maybe Stockholm Syndrome went both ways. I certainly did…

Shoving that thought out of my brain completely, because right now this situation and all these males were about as appealing as roadkill with sauce, I paused as I sensed someone else approaching. Their tread was much lighter, their essence fragrant, and as the King stiffened I got a whole lotta ‘oh shit’ as a female appeared in the doorway. She looked regal, and yet she didn’t conduct herself like a prissy Queen. Her gaze was strong, her chin held high, and her sympathy at my state was frankly much appreciated. Human, my mind supplied, and I wasn’t even sure how I knew, but I did. She was half human. I relaxed a little further, my familiarity and affection for the human race that much more than the vampire race. Half vampire and half human? She could be my Queen. 

“I am not a trainee, my Queen,” I murmured, lowering my voice. The King didn’t seem ready to explain the situation, and as I spoke his jaw locked like he was waiting for me to blow this popsicle stand and cause a total shitfight with his wife. And boy, it was tempting AF to do just that, lemme tell you. “I am… visiting,” I managed dryly. “Unfortunately, my visit is considered suspect since I killed a Lesser. I believe this is… minimally invasive interrogation.”

The one that had been tossing the dagger actually snorted. Everyone else kind of winced, like this was so not where they’d expected this to go. Taking a deep breath, I weighed my options now with the Queen present. If she was sympathetic to imprisoning the innocent then I had to get it all out there. Her interference could help me regardless of what I said.

“You wanted to know everything about me?” I direct this question to the King, forcing his attention away from the female that took a step into the room, even as a Brother tried to put himself between her and me. “I told you, I am Malys, Son of Elieanora. I’ve never met my father.” A truth to cover a lie - I wasn’t admitting he was an angel. Hell to the no. But I had never met him. “My name in the human world is Malachi. I have no true home because I travel, a lot, trying to protect humans from whatever other monsters are out there.” Point to me - the Queen’s eyes softened. “And I didn’t own up to killing the Lesser in the Audience House because all I’ve wanted to do since arriving here is leave, and confessing my ability to easily kill the enemy didn’t seem conducive to getting my butt outta here. I never wanted to have to face this part of me but I love my mother, and I cannot deny her. She asked. I obeyed.”

I took a breath, dropping my head back against the bed as I swallowed down the rush and the anxiety at confessing so much of who I was. But as I’d hoped, the King was staring in my direction, and I knew he was getting all the truth behind every word I’d uttered. That I’d been respectful to his shellan? Bonus points. But now I had to see how the two of them fought it out to get me outta these damn restraints. 

Zsadist:

[The brothers and I all looked between the King and the Queen. Wrath still looked pissed while Beth was a whole bag of emotions. Wrath finally broke the silence. “Leelan…” But he was soon cut off by Beth. Her hand thrown out and everything. “No. It’s my turn.” Scrubbing a hand over my face as I hear someone mumble. “Oh shit.” Lifting my head to watch as the Queen moved over to the stretcher. She frowned as her hand landed on the prisoner’s. And just like that we were behind her in a second. Vishous looking like he was ready to get in between them. Beth turned, her blue eyes meeting each of us. “Guys...I got this. Take a step back.” It was hard to obey that order, but one grunt from Wrath had us moving backwards about an inch or two. 

The Queen turned her attention back to the male. She smiled. “Malys was it? I commend you on protecting the human race. Even if these big men behind me don’t care as much about humans, I sure do.” Rhage chimes in. “Hey...we do...for certain circumstances.” Like Mary. I think to myself quietly. Beth turns to eye Rhage and smiles wide at him. He returns it and pulls out a tootsie pop like he deserved a treat for that. Snorting as Vishous smacks the back of his head before watching the Queen again. “I myself once only knew of the human world. Until that big scary looking male over there found me.” She chuckles as Wrath lets out a growl. “I’m not sure what other beings are out there but if vampires exist I assume anything is possible. Thank you for caring for the humans. They matter too.”

Damn. What was next? We going to invite him upstairs for fucking tea or some shit? Beth eyes Tohr. One she knew wouldn’t throw lip at her. “Tohrment, can you please take off his restraints. I’d like to let him come have some food and stretch his legs so we can chat more.” Welp. Tohr eyes Wrath who was seething. Finally the King cuts in. “No. We will not jeopardize the entire mansion by letting him walk freely in it.” Oh shit. Beth snaps her head to the direction of Wrath. “Hellren mine, if you ever want to sleep in our mated bed again then you will do as I say. I don’t see any threat from this male. He came to you on behalf of his Mother, and all because he didn’t explain why he took down one of those disgusting creatures you treat him this way!” She shook her head. “I know I don’t understand all Brotherhood business but I do understand what is right and what is wrong. Tohrment…” The Brother looks at Wrath again who just grits his teeth then nods once. 

Tohr moves forward and removes the restraints from the prisoner. As he does Beth winces at his wounds. “You poor thing. You probably are so hungry…” Without turning her gaze away from him she calls out. “Vishous grab me some bandages.” V snorts then does as he’s told. Handing her the box of gauze, we watch as Beth takes one out and places it on one of his wrists. “Come on...I will lead you upstairs myself.” Wrath quickly moves to stand beside his Shellan. Practically pressed right up against her.]

Mal:

I didn’t even /breathe/. As the Queen came closer to put her hand on mine, I one hundred percent stopped existing for fear that one muscle twitch, one exhale, would put a dagger in my chest. Sure she’d be pissed, but I’d still be dead, and I was beginning to think the King would prefer me so if it kept me away from the love of his life.

When she asked for my wrists to be freed I almost couldn’t believe it’d worked. And after some argument between the mated pair, one of the hulking masses, Tohrment, moved in to remove the bands. Again, every move I made was /minimal/. Even sitting up I used every muscle I’d ever carved out in a gym or on the road to do it slowly. 

I want to refuse the bandages; the wounds will heal in a day after all, and my stressed out, panicked self inflicted them so probably worth me learning the lesson, but I cannot rebuke her kindness. Her hands are incredibly gentle as she firmly wraps my wrist, and I raise my head enough to meet her eyes as I manage a small smile and a murmured ‘Thank you’. 

Then she was talking about moving, and boy, I had to remind myself of every single word my mahmen had ever mentioned about bonded males and their savagery in protecting their one true love. The King had gone from being a patient, if not terrifying, brick wall to leering, borderline rabid, guard dog. If I so much as sniffed in her direction, he’d bite my damn nose off…

Turning to drop my legs from the gurney, I try to give myself a second as the males move as one to be a guard for the King and Queen. A part of me wishes I could ask for a minute to myself, to get feeling back in my arms and legs, use the bathroom, but any desire to be alone right now would just come off as suspicious. So when I stumble to my feet, I have to grit my teeth and smother my pride as my body objects, my legs tingling and wanting to refuse. 

The Queen looked back to me stumbling like a baby foal, and while she didn’t say anything there was still a quiet fury in her eyes. I liked her. I didn’t even know her name, but I liked her. By not saying anything she wasn’t calling attention to my weakness in front of a group of males bred to be warriors, but she knew I was aching as I came to stand on her other side, a respectful distance between us as I took a deep breath of unrestrained air. My eyes flicked again to Zsadist, to the way those golden eyes assessed this new development, and I was surprised to note an almost reluctant admiration. Like I’d impressed him. His comments on my ability to throw a punch came back, and I hid a smile as I limped after the Queen out the door. By the middle of the tunnel, feeling had returned, my gait straightening out.

“You are far too kind, my Queen. I am… deeply appreciative of your generosity. In truth, I would be grateful simply to be sent on my way. I would hate to impose upon you. Or bring you any discourse with those of your family.”

Re: I’d hate to cause a fight between you and the guy who looks like he wants his sight back just for the satisfaction of being able to watch me bleed out under him. Seriously.  

Zsadist:

[The Queen smiled as she eyed Malys. “Please, call me Beth.” I watched as the male struggled to get up. He still kept his pride though and didn’t reach for help. Then again, even though the Queen would happily help, he in no way would ask for it. Pride as well as Wrath would break every bone in his body. Snorting at the thought before I watch his eyes lift to mine. I raised a brow and did my best to hide an amused look. He really turned shit out in his favor. Scoring points with Beth, becoming not a prisoner but more so a guest. Nice work fucker. I look away when they start to move. 

Suddenly the entire Brotherhood moved in unison, staying close to Malys and the Queen. Wrath looked like he was ready to lose his shit. All I could smell in the tunnels was his bonding scent. Beth reached behind to grab his hand. Being his guide since he was without George, but also squeezing his fingers in reassurance. Hell. If you would have told me this is how the evening was gonna play out I wouldn’t have believed it. Shit was always unpredictable around here, that was for sure. 

When we move up and through the door under the staircase we are greeted by Fritz in the foyer. My eyes immediately went to Malys. Curious of what his reaction would be to the mansion. He just stood in awe, taking it all in. Beth held out a hand towards the dining room. “Fritz...Can we get some leftovers from first meal for our guest?” The Doggen smiles then nods before disappearing into the kitchen as we all head into the dining room. Beth releases Wrath’s hand to motion towards a chair for the “guest” to sit in. Snorting as I move to my regular seat beside Phury. Wrath sits at the head of the table, face emotionless as he just sits and listens. 

Suddenly the sound of George’s collar jingling fills the room. Lifting my head to watch the Golden Retriever make his way over to the King. The dog pauses by Malys and I raise a brow. Okay if this dog didn’t like him then he had to be a fucking asshole. Dogs could sense that shit, right? Watching closely as George sniffs at Malys. He licked one of his hands before padding off to sit by the King's side. Fuck. I didn’t even bother to look at Wrath. He probably was fuming even more now. His best friend just betrayed him by licking the former prisoner. Traitor. 

My golden eyes flickered up to watch Fritz and a few other Doggens come in with some platters. Pancakes, bacon, sausage, some frittata thing, bagels, hash browns. The fucking works. As it is all set down Fritz grabs a fresh pot of coffee and fills up a mug for Malys. Rhage quickly darts his head up and reaches for a piece of bacon. We all glare at him as he munched away happily. This fucker. The Queen smiled and nodded to the food. “Help yourself, and hurry before Rhage eats it all.” She laughs softly and I couldn’t help but crack a small chuckle. Hearing a few other brothers join in. I mean...she wasn’t wrong. Beth reaches to grab a bagel. I doubt she was hungry, but more so wanted to make him feel comfortable about eating. That’s the kind of wonderful female she was.] 

Mal:

The bonding scent that’d been saturating me in the tunnel fanned out as we hit what had to be a foyer of… the biggest fucking building I’d clearly ever been in. Hallways stretched off in all directions, and even just standing on the marble floor, I had a sense of the vastness. This was the King’s mansion, the home of the Brotherhood, and while I had no idea where it was or how to get here, I also suspected I was one of very few that had seen inside it either. 

Guided into a dining room big enough to fit the motley crew of killers, and their Queen, I took the seat indicated, still feeling three hundred percent out of my depth. When the beautiful golden retriever padded in though, I felt some of my nerves ease, especially when it paused to offer a lick. I wanted to pet it, hold it, and make ridiculous coo-ing noises at it until it begged for belly rubs, which I’d also give it. But the harness told me he was Wrath’s dog, and FYI, it’s very poor form to distract a service dog. So I accepted the lick while radiating gratitude, and let him go on to his owner. Who looked ticked I’d gotten even that.

And doggen... wow. Mahmen hadn’t been kidding. They were all but giddy to bring in the ‘left overs’; enough food to feed everyone present twice. Instead of the food I reached for the coffee first, taking a sip and groaning softly before I could stop myself. As the first thing I’d had in over twelve hours, after spending a night locked down to a gurney, it was /heaven/.

“Thank you, Beth,” I replied smoothly, glad for her name as I set the mug down and did as she’d suggested, gathering a small amount of food to my own plate and proceeding to dine. I deliberately kept my eyes either on the plate, or on the Queen, because any time I even glanced toward a Brother, other than Zsadist and the one they called Rhage, they looked at me like I was a cockroach and it was just a matter of time. 

A figure appeared in the entrance to the living room, and only the instinct to know my surroundings had me looking up. I nearly dropped the fork, my hand freezing as I saw the male standing there and knew instantly what he was. An angel.

Likewise, the male’s all white eyes narrowed on me, but then he was smiling, sauntering in and announcing he was commencing a movie marathon in the billiards room with popcorn provided. All welcome. Apparently even me? Then he was waving at me as he left and I realized I was holding my breath. I let it out in a rush, shakily putting down the fork as I swallowed the fresh hit of nerves. He’d known… he’d known what I was the same way I knew what he was, but he didn’t say anything. 

“Who was that?”

The words left my lips and I almost smacked a hand over my mouth to take them back. Fighting that impulse, I instead looked to Beth, my expression polite and befuddled at the angel’s total… verve. Wrath grunted.

“Better question would be ‘what was that’,” he muttered, taking some bacon off the plate. “Lassiter. Our resident pierced pain in the ass.” Several males muttered their agreement. “You’re lucky he wasn’t rocking the light globe look. You’d be blind.”

Would I? I thought, wondering if my ‘angel eyes’ would save me from that. Shit. I didn’t need to find out. I needed to get out of here. How did one politely request a bathroom, then an exit? Hell, I’d take the bathroom just for a window; I could fly from there and let them puzzle it out later. 

Zsadist:

[The meal, that only Rhage, Beth, and Malys were partaking in, was interrupted by Lassiter. Rolling my golden eyes as he announces a movie night. Like anyone had time for that shit. And the sounds of the shudders rising brought time in prospective for us all. Rotation. Rhage started to shovel down more food into his mouth. Vishous got up saying he had to grab some coordinates from the Pit. Butch stood hollering after him to grab his twin berettas. Wrath just pushed his fingers behind his shades to rub at his eyes. 

I shifted up when I saw Phury frown and move into the foyer, looking at his phone. Before I could go confront my twin, I heard our so called guest ask to use the bathroom. Beth smiles at him “Oh my, of course. I should have asked you that first.” She gets up and moves to sit on Wrath’s lap. They started to have a hushed conversation that included a lot of kissing and Beth working her male to not be so angry. Grabbing at Malys arm, I lead him to the bathroom that was closest to the foyer. Once he is inside I turn my attention to Phury. Watching him pace as he looks at his phone. My head lifts.]

Brother mine, what’s doing? [My twin looks over, his brows drawn in. “Cormia decided it would be a great idea to take out some of the Chosens. Apparently she wanted to have a drink with them and they are headed to Iron Mask. Fuck! Why would she go out unprotected with them?!” Blinking at the thought of those Chosen’s being picked up by some rando or worse a lesser. And one of them was my twin’s mate. Yeah this was bad.] 

Alright well let’s head to Iron Mask and we can drop Malys off there. Guy probably wants a drink anyway. [Snorts] V and some others can dematz if they need to head elsewhere for rotation. Don’t worry brother mine we will get to them. [The bathroom door opens the same time Wrath comes into view with Beth. The King’s voice echoes in the foyer. “Dropping off our… friend?” The Queen pats his arm then smiles at Malys. I nod slowly] Yeah. I know you said to not go on rotation but I need to help Phury out with a situation. Besides, I’m on like an adrenaline high right now and am wide awake. I promise I’ll rest when I get home. [Wrath grunts. “Fine. Just get him out of here.” I nod watching the other brothers show up as the King and Queen disappear upstairs. I let them know what’s doing and Tohr nods to Rhage. “You head with the twins and I’ll go with V and Butch.” Rhage nods, my head turning to watch Vishous move over to me. He tosses a blindfold at me then smirks. “Don’t worry it’s for Beth’s best friend over there. Call us if there are any problems.” With that V, Butch, and Tohr exit the mansion leaving my twin, Rhage, and Malys.]

Mal:

Stupid vampire houses and their stupid metal shutters to keep out beautiful daylight. Hitting up the bathroom, I’d drained the lizard and then gone straight for the window, eager to see how easy a getaway it would be. But the shutters that kept out the daylight hadn’t even lifted yet, and not only could I not budge them, I couldn’t use any lick of my power, angel, vampire or otherwise, to get around them.

Not that it mattered much. By the time I emerged from the bathroom, everyone had left the dining room and was in motion. The Brothers were armed up, preparing to leave, and my scarred warden was watching the rainbow maned male as he paced. When the Brother with his tattoo and eyes like diamonds tossed Zsadist a blindfold, I grimaced, but hey… better than any of them knocking me out over and over. My head still fucking hurt.

Dismissed by the King (big surprise there…) and flashing Beth an appreciative smile and bow of my head, I followed the warriors that remained while the rest went outside to dematerialize wherever the fuck they were going. Slipping through the door to the massive tunnel below, we didn’t stop until we were in a parking garage the size of a football field, and filled with more cars than I’d owned in my life. Or stolen. And hey, most of these were cars I’d /like/ to steal.

“Cool so what’s the seating arrangement?” I declare, ready for this nightmare to be over. I was not only getting out of this place without a dagger in me, but without them knowing what I was. I was one happy half-breed, let me tell you. Stopping at the big, dark SUV waiting, no doubt thanks to a doggen, I pause at the back seat and cross my arms. The white bandages from the Queen herself poked out from under my jacket. “Am I next to you again, bright eyes?” I add, looking to Zsadist. “Promise you won’t hit me again? Bit unfair if I can’t see it coming.”

Pretty Locks, or Phury, was ignoring me as he all but leapt into the passenger seat. The way he moved, I realised belatedly that one of his legs was prosthetic. Huh. What a trooper. The shockingly attractive blonde, Rhage, took the driver’s seat as Zsadist half shoved me into the back and passed me the blindfold. Rhage peered over the backseat, and his smile was enough to make you pause. If I’d been totally straight? I now would’ve been one hundred percent gay. No question.

“Put that on, please. I really don’t wanna ask twice.”

Ok. Seventy percent gay. 

With a sigh I did as he asked, lifting the black material and wrapping it over my eyes, around my head. I sensed Zsadist leaning over to do an inspection, right before something poked my cheek and I flinched back. “The fuck…”

Rhage chuckled. “Okay, let’s go!”

Zsadist: 

[I had almost wished I just knocked this guy out again instead of using the blindfold. Fuck the sass was back yet again. I couldn’t help but chuckle as Rhage poked his cheek. Normally that would annoy me, but it was so much more amusing when Rhage was bothering Malys instead of me. 

Leaning back in my seat as the SUV started to move. I couldn’t help but watch Phury who kept frantically calling his mate. He frowned then growled in frustration. “She’s not picking up, fuck!” My brows draw in.] Brother, relax. I’m sure she is just dancing with the Chosens or something. [That made Phury growl louder. Rhage swerved the car causing us all to get fucking whiplash.] Scribe! Can you get us there without killing us? You are lucky that Butch isn’t in this car he would wring your neck. [The Brother controls himself and the car before eyeing me in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry...just between the growling and the urgency, I’m all out of whack.” Phury continues to call while I let my eyes shift over to Malys. His hands were clutching the seat and handle on the door. Smart move. Inhaling his scent once again to see if there was anything else I could pick up. Nothing. What was he…? 

The car slows down and cuts off my train of thought. Lifting my gaze to see we were at the back of the club. Phury quickly gets out and runs inside.] Shit! [Rubbing a hand over my face in frustration. Before I can even move he’s outside again. I exit the car while Rhage sticks his head out the window. Phury looks at me worried. “She’s not in there man.” Even though I hated contact, I placed my hand on my twin’s shoulder.] We will find her, its okay. 

[And in that same moment a scream from a female is heard in the distance. FUCK. Quickly Phury takes off in a flash, following after him as I holler.] Come on Rhage! Just leave him! [I hear car doors being closed but I don’t bother to look back. Moving down the street, my twin and I turn the corner to see four lessers surrounding Cormia, Ghisele, and Amalya. Three of the smelly fuckers had each one in a hold while the fourth held a blade. This was not good at all.]

[luxexhomines]

Hello, can i please have a headcanon of Gundham, Kazuichi, Leon, Kiyotaka and mondo, who try to comfort their S/O who is very stress because their family think be bigender is "not normal" ?

Thanks for the request! I don’t know that I can write for a bigender reader as far as their perspective goes, so these headcanons are all just about comfort and the way the boys react to your distress from your not-so-understanding family.Hopefully, they’re all in character.

No cut; let me know if you’d like one. Icon credit to phasedistort! Here we go!

Gundham, Kazuichi, Leon, Kiyotaka, & Mondo Comforting Bigender! S/O Headcanons

Gundham Tanaka

He’s never been really great at comforting people or had great people skills in general, truthfully. He wonders how he even managed to get as lovely of a s/o as you!

But to see you in such distress after coming out to your family makes his heart ache, so if you’re crying or moping, he’ll sit next to you and offer grandiose affirmations in the chuunibyou language he speaks as well as a box of tissues. “O Majestic Ruler, you are above any of the plebeians that cry false, disparaging claims about your utterly sublime character and state of being!”

He’ll bring you comfort food like ice cream and cookies, or whatever you like to eat! If it has meat, he might be kind of reluctant, but seeing your face, he’ll agree.

And oh, does he have the ultimate cuddlers with him. The hamsters are kind of small to cuddle, but he has no problem getting you dogs, cats, bunnies, or whatever else you’d like to pet. You know Gundham, he’d probably even leash and tame a bear so you could hug it–that is, if you dare.

If you’re allergic to fur, that’s pretty sad, but he’ll go to costco to get a huge teddy bear or your bedroom if you have some at home so you can have something soft & cuddly!

Oh, but if you ask to cuddle him… He’s gonna be severely shy, so you’d probably have to hunt him down or tackle him. Or he’ll accept, seeing the state you’re in, while his cheeks are permanently dyed a gloriously deep red.

If you cuddle him in bed at night while sleeping, he’s probably not going to sleep the entire night although he won’t admit it, so you should probably spare him and hug the teddy bear instead. He gets pretty out of it when he doesn’t have his sleep.

Gundham’s there for you all the way, behind the scenes! He’s your errand boy and cuddly toy, even if he won’t say so himself.

Kazuichi Souda

He’s another one of the type that is unsure about how to deal with distressed people, so he will be at your beck and call and asks you constantly if there’s anything he can do for you, to the point that you might find it a little annoying, although his devotion to you is endearing.

If you ask him to help you through the holidays with your family by going with you back to your home, where your presence has not been requested but required despite their discomfort with your gender, he’ll be honored that you feel like you can rely on him with such an important job.

Your family might not be too approving of your boyfriend, seeing his bright pink hair and the way he looks kind of like a delinquent…but to them, at least it proves that you can love normally despite being bigender, so they’ll kind of accept him. Kind of.

There are, of course, times when your family, not thinking being bigender is normal, will make bigoted comments about your sexuality at the dinner table, which will definitely rile him up. You’ll have to reach under the table and squeeze his hand to keep him from standing up or arguing with them.

After the dinner, he’ll rant to you about your family and then shut up abruptly, realizing that they are still your family. You’ll have to reassure him that it’s okay, and you know he has good intentions.

His reactions–or what would have been, at least–make you feel a bittersweet joy, because you know that he’s on your side and expresses what you wish you could to your family.

When you cry, it’s enough for him to want to pick up the phone and give your family an angry phone call or storm over there, but you always stop him, knowing it won’t solve anything.

To control his anger, he’ll go to his garage and fiddle with his gadgets, where he might just make a mini-you robot. Or a hundred of them. Depends on his mood. 

This boy will get angry on your behalf, and if it’s not your family making you cry, he’ll gladly go and take them down a peg, never mind that being a mechanic isn’t particularly intimidating.

Leon Kuwata

Here’s another one with a hot-blooded temper and will actually argue with your family after they say something about how being bigender is abnormal or how you must be mistaken about your gender; apart from words, even physically making contact with him won’t calm him down, and your strength is hardly enough to hold back the Ultimate Baseball Player.

You don’t take him back with you for the holidays when you go to see your family because he simply can’t control himself, but he will check in on you over text and phone calls everyday.

If he ever finds out you’re crying at your family’s house, he’ll probably jump on a plane, train, car, or public transportation to get to your family’s home so he can comfort you. And maybe beat someone up.

When you’re thinking about the whole situation and feel down, Leon will play some music for you on the guitar, maybe sing as he strums some tunes. He’ll encourage you to sing along if you have the spirits, but won’t be pushy about it. 

He might even suggest playing a simple game of catch, if it’ll take your mind off of things. Doing something single-mindedly can help get you out of your funk, according to him, and throwing a ball around is surprisingly meditative.

When you just want to be comforted, Leon will let you sit in his lap, let you rest your head in his lap, cover you in lots of blankets.

If you eat tons of ice cream or other comfort foods, he’ll eat with you.

Overall, Leon’s kind of a wild card with lots of anger, but he will offer plenty of camaraderie no matter what’s going on.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru

You know how he is–he gets riled up easily, but as he doesn’t condone violence, he would never try to fight your family, at least not physically. Word are another story, but he’ll sit, beg and lay down, whatever you command, since they are your family.

He will have lots of healthy coping methods for the stress you accumulate in his back pocket! Or he’ll research them for you, like the sweet & caring cinnamon roll he is.

He’ll try all the coping methods with you, one by one! He’s probably not a big believer of meditation or praying, but whatever helps you–he just wants you to feel better and deal with your stress in a healthy way!

When you begin to cry, hyperventilate, or panic, he’ll sit you down at the couch and rub soothing circles on your back while murmuring affirmations to you. About every ten minutes, he might check in with you and ask if you’re feeling better, worse, or the same, and if there’s anything he can do to help.

If you ask to cuddle, he might object and say it’s indecent with red painted all over his cheeks, but if you give him a puppy dog look, he’ll agree reluctantly. He’ll likely be very stiff and nervous, but will relax over time. Maybe.

When you’re wanting to eat something, he’ll suggest healthy foods too, like carrots or celery, which are crunchy enough that you can maybe take out some of your anger on them without eating anything too bad for your body.

But if you want ice cream, chips or sweets, he’ll oblige–but he’ll insist on buying it for you so he can check the ingredients and choose the best options from the selection of not so healthy foods.

You can count on him if you want to bring him back for the holidays not to do anything drastic, though he might have a couple outbursts. He just loves you too much, he can’t help it if someone else is causing you to suffer or saying horrible things about you!

He’s just a sweet boy who will try to make sure you cope with all the stress in a way that is healthy and conducive to yourself and the people around you for your own good.

Mondo Oowada

You know him, he has the shortest temper of them all. There is absolutely no way you’d ever bring him back home over the holidays for support because he’d end up causing you more anxiety over fights rather than giving you peace of mind as you weather the storm. Although the sight of him would probably be more than enough to stop your family from making ignorant and hurtful comments.

You know he’d jump on his motorbike and ride over to rescue you and maybe punch out the lights of some people there, so you try to ride the rollercoaster of emotions, take good care of yourself, make sure you are in good shape for daily calls with him, and for the most part it works.

Sometimes when you mention a comment from your family about how bigender probably wasn’t a thing and that you were just going through a phase, he starts ranting about them and swearing loudly, forgetting that technically, you’re just as capable of doing so yourself if you want to.

Otherwise, you mostly use him as a giant teddy bear–albeit, his chest is more muscular than soft.

You like to cling onto him and beg for piggyback rides, though, and when he asks if you’re a kid in an irritated manner, you answer that you are when he’s around, so he bends down to let you climb on. His gruff manner does nothing to disguise his love for you, which is comfort in itself.

When you break down in front of him, he feels powerless and helpless, not knowing how he could ever lift you up. But he doesn’t let his selfish desire to remain in control take over; he accompanies you through the long night, staying at your side loyally and holding you close.

If you’re fine with it, he’ll ask to take you on a ride on his motorcycle in the dead of night, the comfortable breeze combing through your hair and the moon guiding your journey down countless empty streets.

He is super down for comfort food. Greasy fast food? Sugary ice cream? Bags and bags of salty chips? He’ll take you anywhere and buy you anything–heck, he’ll eat all the same things, too.

He’s a solid partner when you need support; he doesn’t succumb to the pressures of a toxic masculinity culture and especially not when he takes care of you, because he knows it’s all about you when you ask him to be there for you. He’ll be vulnerable with you, too, if you want.

[listentotheshityousay]

roads diverged

After a long joint celebratory dinner with their families on the night of their graduation, Jeremy and Michael steal away and drive an hour up to the Alpine Boat Basin in the Palisades, where it's quiet and near-deserted after sunset. Michael parks the car by the waterfront and they perch on the hood together, half-melted slushies clutched in their hands as they look up across the water at the New York skyline, listening to a chapter of their lives draw to a close in the silence.

“I can’t believe I’m never gonna act in that auditorium again,” Jeremy says. It still feels unreal. “You’ll never drive me to school again.”

“Yeah,” Michael agrees. “But I’ll drive you to tons of other places, because god knows you’re lazy and you never drive anywhere yourself.”

Jeremy pouts. “True, but you can’t chauffeur me around New Jersey all the way from Boston.”

Michael turns to give Jeremy a crooked grin. “You can boss me around when it’s not during the school term, dumbass.” He leans in to nudge Jeremy’s shoulder with his own, his voice dropping to a somber note. “But yeah, you might wanna find somebody else while I’m not around.”

There’s something about that statement that feels like a door slammed in his face. He can’t tell if it’s Michael’s tone, or the words, or the thought of not having the familiar cadence of Michael’s voice in his daily life anymore, but it makes Jeremy want to recoil. “I think I can manage on my own,” Jeremy says instead, mirroring Michael’s posture to lean against him, their arms pressing together. “But I’ll miss you. And not just because it’s nice to have you drive me places.”

Michael tips his chin up, gazing towards the stars for a long moment before he looks back down, an unreadable look on his face as he meets Jeremy’s eyes. “I,” he starts, pauses, then looks away. Clears his throat, and faces Jeremy again with a faint smile. “I’ll miss you too, buddy.”

It feels like an incomplete sentence, something swallowed away before it could become a reality. Like missing a step in the dark. Something important spoken in the spaces between words that Jeremy couldn’t hear at all.

“Ugh, now you’re making me nostalgic, and we’re not even going to college for another two months.” Michael bumps the side of his head against Jeremy’s with a huff. “I swear, you’re gonna see so much of me this summer that you’re gonna be glad to get rid of me by the end of it.”

I don’t think I ever could get sick of you, Jeremy doesn’t say. There’s something fragile about this moment, the aftermath of a silent seismic shift that happened under Jeremy’s feet that he cannot fathom, that makes him think that it’s better left unsaid.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he jokes instead, and laughs when Michael elbows him in the side with a mock-scowl.

The waterfront is chilly, especially because summer still hasn’t quite settled into New Jersey yet, but Jeremy feels overly warm and utterly at home, sitting here under the stars, Michael’s shoulder pressed against his.

-

At the end of summer, Michael pokes Jeremy in the chest after they load the last of Michael’s packed boxes into the backseat of his Cruiser. “I better still be your favorite person when I come back for winter break.”

“Only if you promise that you’re not gonna replace me as best friend,” Jeremy snarks, ignoring the twinge inside his ribcage. He’s all bravado these days, camouflaging his apprehension with false confidence and humor that he doesn’t really feel. It’s been a beautiful summer, full of blue skies and good memories, but he’s felt off-kilter the whole time, like he’s trying to button up his shirt but the first button went through the wrong buttonhole, and he didn’t notice until he reached the bottom.  

Michael laughs. It’s usually one of Jeremy’s favorite sounds to hear, but it rings oddly hollow. “Jer, I doubt I could ever replace you.”

-

College is a whirlwind, with new people and new places and new things all vying for his attention as he stumbles along the learning curve of how to be in charge of his life. He shakes off the homesickness soon enough—Metuchen is only a two hour drive away, after all—but tendrils of it dig into his heart and don’t let go.

“I’m not even sure if it’s homesickness,” Jeremy confesses to his roommate, who likes to get stoned out of his mind and won’t remember this conversation tomorrow. “It’s not our town, or my house, or my dad—I miss them, yeah, but. It’s just one person.”

“My dude,” Drew drawls from where he’s sprawled across his bed, limbs akimbo, and nostalgia slithers through Jeremy’s chest, reminding him of Michael’s tendency to sprawl belly-up across the couch when he’s high. “It’s totally homesickness. Y’know, ‘cause you miss home, and home is where the heart is.”

“What the hell does that even mean,” Jeremy grumbles, because he’s not exactly sober himself, and takes another hit from the joint Drew offers him.

-

“I was kinda worried,” Michael says from where he’s sprawled over his beanbag chair in Jeremy’s bedroom. “I wasn’t sure we’d be okay, you know?”

Jeremy looks up from the infuriating wooden star puzzle Michael’s given him as this Hanukkah’s gag gift. He hasn’t managed to make even a single piece budge. “Dude, you were the one who kept assuring me that everything was gonna be fine.”

Michael flaps a hand at him. “I know, I know. But I wasn’t…” He clears his throat. “I wasn’t sure I’d be okay without you, or something like that.”

Jeremy holds the wooden star in his hands and doesn’t let himself drop it. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Michael runs a hand through his hair, turning his face away. “But I was okay, and you were okay without me, so—I guess it’s all good. Nothing to worry about.”

Michael’s right. Jeremy had been okay. He’d missed Michael, but it hadn’t cut him off at the knees or lacerated him from the inside-out. He’d been content with weekly video calls and text messages at all times of the day and two-hundred miles between them. There was nothing to worry about.

Except yesterday, Jeremy’d returned to Metuchen for winter break to discover Michael sitting on the front stoop of his house, his bored expression breaking into a beaming smile when Jeremy called his name. And Jeremy’d realized he was home.

He wonders if he should be worried about that.

-

Weeks later, back in his dorm room, Jeremy makes a face at his laptop while Michael laughs at his complaints about Michael’s stupid gift that’s sitting on Jeremy’s desk, unsolved. Jeremy usually picks it up before he goes to bed, measuring the weight of it in his hands as he tries to pulls it apart, and it’s transitioned from a frustrating routine to a frustrating and soothing routine. Jeremy’s not sure he’ll ever solve this without cheating through Youtube.

All the frustration is worth it, though, to see Michael's teasing grin on his screen.

-

There’s a girl in Jeremy’s Anthropology 101 class with shapely legs and a sweet, dimpled smile. When she asks to borrow his notes, Jeremy says yes.

When she asks Jeremy if he’d like to go grab a coffee with her, he says yes.

When she asks would you like to have dinner, just the two of us, Jeremy says yes.

-

"Make sure to walk her home," Michael reminds him over the phone. "Who knows, you might even get a good night kiss."

"You sound more excited than I am." Jeremy looks at the mirror and fusses with his hair one last time. It's strange; his reflection's smile looks like a lie.

Michael exhales a chuckle. "I'm happy for you, dumbass." He pauses. "I really am."

There's a sincerity to his words that makes Jeremy uneasy. Like a door closed in his face. A missed step in the dark.

"I love you too, asshole," Jeremy blusters. The ground feels unsteady under his feet.

Michael laughs, surprised and fond. "I know you do.”

-

When she asks for a goodnight kiss, Jeremy says I’m sorry.

-

The day before his final exams begin, Jeremy solves the star puzzle in a fit of procrastination. He takes victorious photos of the pieces as evidence and sends them to Michael, the satisfaction melting into melancholy as he traces the edges of each piece, his fingertips having memorized them all over the past few months.

“Whatcha gonna do without your nightly routine now?” Drew asks from where he’s been staring blankly at his economics textbooks. “You gonna get a different one?”

“I don’t like puzzles.” Michael’s the one who does. Jeremy’s only ever found them frustrating. Crosswords, riddles, complex math problems—they all only make Jeremy feel stupid.

Drew blinks very slowly. “Then why did you hang onto that one?”

“Because,” Jeremy begins, and then stops. He rethinks his words, the meaning wrapped in them. He starts over. “Because it’s a matter of pride.”

Drew makes an unimpressed noise, his gaze sliding back to his textbook, and Jeremy turns back to his desk, his chest feeling too tight. Everything seems off-kilter these days. He’ll forget it about it every once in a while, only to abruptly regain keen awareness of how it feels like his skin doesn’t fit right or his blood is too warm or he’s been buttoning his shirts all wrong

He could have said the truth. He could have said because Michael gave it to me. The words alone mean nothing.

But the spaces between the words, the way he traced every edge of the puzzle with his fingertips every night, nostalgia humming in his bones—those mean everything.

-

He comes back for the summer to find Michael at the bus station, leaning against the side of his Cruiser with a lazy smile that makes Jeremy’s bones hum louder.

“Man, it’s good to see you.” Michael’s jawline has grown a little sharper with the loss of baby fat, and the slant of his grin looks different now. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the slope of his shoulders—they’re the same yet different. It’s the way Michael holds himself, Jeremy realizes. He looks more confident. More relaxed.

“Yeah,” Jeremy says inanely, still staggering from the revelation that Michael’s gone and grown up while Jeremy’s been, well, Jeremy.

When Michael snorts and leans in to wrap him in a hug, the hum in Jeremy’s bones quiets, leaving him to hear the pounding of his heart against his ribcage all too well, and he realizes, fuck.

“I missed you,” Michael says.

Jeremy’s body goes hot all over, and he squeezes his eyes shut, burying his face into Michael’s shoulder as he hugs him back. He hopes his voice is muffled enough to conceal the quaver in his voice. “I missed you, too.”

-

It takes days for Jeremy to process the fact that he finds his best friend attractive and that he might have a crush on said best friend. He’s never been very self-aware even at the best of times, but it’s excruciating to think back to all the obvious giveaways and signs he’s blindly overlooked for such a long time.

He tries not to think about it too much. He pushes it to the very back of his mind, under the metaphorical bed, and doesn’t let himself dwell on it. He doesn’t want to examine his own feelings, where they started, how deep they run, how true they are. He doesn’t want them at all. Michael is supposed to be the one uncomplicated part of his life, his Player One who he can trust no matter what, and the idea of him becoming the one person who could truly hurt Jeremy scares him more than anything.

So he doesn’t think about it. Doesn’t let himself consider it. When Michael’s touch sparks a fire in his chest, he holds his breath and starves it of oxygen. When Michael’s smile makes his heart jump to his throat, he swallows it back down.

Some nights, he lays in his bed and thinks that maybe, one day, this will be something he can laugh about. Something like growing pains, ephemeral hurt soon to be mere bittersweet memory, just a passing ailment that leaves no scars.

That’s the most he ever lets himself think about it.

-

Two days after Independence Day, Michael wheedles Jeremy into going up to the Alpine Boat Basin to watch more fireworks. Jeremy’s seen enough fireworks to last him a year, but he’s seemingly lost the ability to say no to spending time with Michael this summer, so he gives in after a token resistance, making excuses about how the Palisades is beautiful this time of the year anyway.

They arrive early enough to roam the waterfront while the daylight dies across the sky, a cascade of pinks and oranges and reds that bleed into darkness. Michael hauls out his DSLR and takes photos, and Jeremy pretends not to notice the occasional candids that Michael sneaks of him from a distance. Together, they watch New York light up slowly across the water, and then they trek back to the car where it’s parked as close to the water as the parking lot permits.

“It’s been a long year,” Michael says as they wait, perched on the hood of Michael’s Cruiser together, lukewarm bottles of soda clutched in their hands. “You ready for another one?”

“Don’t remind me. Please let me enjoy the remaining six weeks of summer break in peace,” Jeremy groans. “No talking about school until August, remember?”

Michael laughs, amused and carefree, and the sound of it makes Jeremy’s heart somersault in his chest. “Alright, you big baby.”

Before Jeremy can come up with a retort to that, an explosion of bright red explodes above the water. “Oh, wow.”

The display isn’t as grand as the Independence Day fireworks at Papaianni Park, but it’s breathtaking all the same, the lights reflected on the surface of the Hudson River against the backdrop of the glittering New York skyline. Here, there isn’t the swarming crowd or their parents. It’s just the two of them, Jeremy and Michael, sitting under the stars and fireworks, and Jeremy’s goddamn heart rattling in his chest at the lights reflected in Michael’s eyes.

“It’s been a hell of a year, but it wasn’t that bad, right?” Michael asks, his gaze fixed skyward, leaning closer so Jeremy can hear him over the boom of the fireworks. “We came out of it just fine.”

Jeremy forces himself to refocus on the fireworks. Pushes down the urge to mirror Michael’s posture and lean in. Swallows his heart and spits out empty words instead. “I guess so.”

There’s a brief lull in the explosions, like a breath held in anticipation, and just as the silence is sinking in, a burst of gold scatters across the sky, lighting up the sky and the water.

And Michael says, “You know, I had a crush on you.”

Jeremy’s heart nearly stops. “What?”

“Wild, right?” Michael laughs, and the sound of it fractures Jeremy’s heart. “Like, I got a crush on you sometime around the summer after eighth grade? And then it pretty much lasted throughout the whole time in high school. Which sounds incredibly pathetic, now that I’m saying it out loud, because that’s like four years?”

“Four years,” Jeremy repeats, and he can barely breathe around the words. “Until the end of high school?”

Michael finally looks down, a sheepish grin curling at his mouth. “Well, okay, it took me some more time to get over you, but college kinda helped, I guess? And the distance?” He shrugs. “Anyway, it’s old news now, so don’t get all weird about it, okay? I just wanted to tell you. Closure, or something like that.”

All the unspoken words, the ignored feelings, they’re rattling in Jeremy’s chest, climbing up his throat, refusing to be contained under the bed, under the rug, in the recesses of his mind, and he thinks he just might implode from it all.

“So…it’s over now?” His voice cracks, but Michael doesn’t seem to hear the break in the facade through the din of fireworks. “We’re still best friends?”

“Yeah.” A flicker of worry passes over Michael’s face. “That’s okay, right? You’re not weirded out?”

Unable to trust his voice, Jeremy shakes his head, and something in his chest gives away at the relief in Michael’s eyes.

“Thank fuck, I was worried for a hot second there.” Michael throws and arm around Jeremy’s shoulders, leaning his solid, warm weight against Jeremy’s side. “I’m really glad,” he says, and the sincerity in his voice is so suffocating that Jeremy has to close his eyes for a moment.

He shouldn’t say anything, shouldn’t ask, but he can’t help but think that four years is a long time. “How serious was it?”

“What?” Michael blinks, turning to face Jeremy quizzically before he catches on. “Oh, you mean my feelings?” He smiles, wide and bright, and that’s how Jeremy knows he’s about to lie. “It wasn’t anything serious.”

The words might are a sucker punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of Jeremy’s lungs, cracking his chest open. But Jeremy’s always been the better liar between the two of them, so he nods and smiles back, and he watches the last of the fireworks die in the night sky.

-

In the dark, curled up on his bed, Jeremy retraces his steps his steps through tonight. He barely remembers the drive home. It’d been quiet, with occasional banter and Michael’s playlist filling the silence, and Jeremy’s head had been full of static, his nerves buzzing, time blurring. He rewinds past today and through the days and weeks and months and finally looks the truth in the eye.

The truth is, Jeremy’s a fucking idiot. Because it’s not just a crush. It was never just a crush.

He knows now. He knows what it was that Michael didn’t tell him last year when they were at the Palisades, that moment when the first button went wrong, that first missed step in the dark. He knows what he’d felt, warm and at home by Michael’s side, utterly content and too fucking stupid to realize his own feelings. He knows that all the possibility in the world had been at their fingertips that night, had maybe even been possible after that, and if only Michael had been braver, or Jeremy’d dared to examine his heart, they could have walked an entirely different path. They could have been in love together.

But Jeremy had been too scared to be honest with himself, and Michael had been too scared to be honest with Jeremy. And now, the door to that path has been closed in Jeremy’s face, and he’s in love alone.

-

“Hey, you okay?” Michael asks as they exit the 7-Eleven, slushies in hand.

Jeremy had cried himself to sleep and woken up with his broken heart lacerating him from inside-out. He’d washed his face and changed into clean clothes and practiced his smile in the mirror until it’d looked real. He’d eaten lunch with his dad and talked about the fireworks and hadn’t let himself falter when he’d said that it had been a fun night. And when Michael had pulled into the driveway for their slushie run, he’d walked out of the house with steady steps and hadn’t let himself fall to his knees.

“I’m okay,” Jeremy says, and quirks a small smile to convince Michael as they both climb into the car. “Just tired because I couldn’t sleep in the heat.”

Michael snorts. “Wuss. It wasn’t that hot.”

“Shut up and drive.” Jeremy gives Michael a playful shove, and the lingering worry melts away, the tension slipping from Michael’s shoulders, just as Jeremy intended. “You’re my chauffeur, remember?”

“You’re so lazy,” Michael mock-scolds him, but he turns the ignition on and grins. “What would you do without me?”

“I’d survive.” The truth will only hurt them both, so Jeremy will keep it to himself and spare Michael the pain. Even if it takes a lifetime of lying. Even if it means breaking his own heart. “Maybe even drive myself to the mall.”

Michael snorts, his mouth quirking into a wicked grin that makes the hollow cavern of Jeremy’s chest ache. “Sure, Jer, I’d love to see that.”

“I’d be fine without you,” Jeremy lies. He has the rest of his life to make it true.

[ask-de-writer]

WELCOME TO EQUESTRIA! : Origin of the Rom, part 2 : MLP Fan Fiction : Part 7 of 8

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~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

WELCOME TO EQUESTRIA!

The second part of the Origin of the Rom

ORIGIN OF THE ROM SERIES in reading order.  (will be completed as the stories are posted in linked form)

Part One : NORE’S CHOICE, which starts HERE

Part Two : WELCOME TO EQUESTRIA! which starts HERE

Part Three : FAIR AND UN-FAIR, which starts HERE

Part Four : ON THE ROADS OF EQUESTRIA, which starts HERE

Part Five : THE FIRST ROM HEARTHWARMING,  which starts HERE

Part Six : SANDO’S LAKE, which starts HERE

Part Seven : A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE ROM, which starts HERE

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

13716 words

© 2015 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 08/09/15

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

TUMBLR EXEMPTION

Blog holding members of Tumblr.com may freely reblog this story provided that the title, author and copyright information remain intact, unaltered, and are displayed at the head of the story.

Fan art, stories, music, cosplay and other fan activity is actively encouraged.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

The whole group laughed, but many got thoughtful looks as they tasted bits of the patties that I went ahead and hoofed out, saying, “Down payment on dinner.  Let the mares do their thing.  They want to thank you properly for saving their wagon and everything that they need for making a living, not to mention that it is their home for now.”

While Malit and Maina were cooking and brewing up a big pot of tea, Sando and Rom got out a flute, drums, and a lyre which they gave to Phapa.  The exotic music of Gyptia resounded from the Equestrian hills.  

Nore began to dance.

All but the flute playing members of Rom’s band, even the ones cooking, began to chant in Gyptian.  

Nore danced the Shehan Ja Rom for them.  

That was followed by Sarel’s swirling sashes as she danced.  Several of the watching troopers suddenly got it.

“Look at that dance!  She is telling how we saved the wagon today!”

When Malit and Maina circulated among the troops with cups of tea and piles of sweet buns, the realities of military life asserted themselves.  

Sunbreak called, “Line up.  Let them serve, don’t mob them!”  Tasting some of the sweet buns she added thoughtfully, “Perhaps I was hasty in saying don’t mob them! These are better than anything that I have ever got at a fair!”

Privately agreeing with Sunbreak, I pondered the possibility that we had found by accident, the means to make good bits at a fair.  I knew, from my earlier life as Marchhare the Trader, exactly where and when all of the fairs within fifty miles were.

The Red Branch flood, as huge as it was, did not wipe out all the communities with fairs.  Counting the gold that we had found up in the pass, we did not have enough to buy the land, build our homes,  shops and settle down to a quiet life.  The reward would likely change that but we did not have it yet.

I prefer to not count wealth that is not in hoof.

I was right about the troops. All twenty, counting Sunbreak, had a great time.

Breakfast was equally fine.  Tea and batter cakes wrapped about berry preserves filled every pony there.  Through a mouthful of batter cake, Vard declared, “If ever you need more help from the Equestrian Aerial Armor, just ask.  If I have any say, you will get the help at once.”

Not every step of a journey is an adventure.  The far side of the Notch was a long gentle slope.  It was well wooded and we found some more useful and/or tasty things to add to our store.  

We came out of the woods at a well tended Royal Road wayside.  Rom stared in near disbelief.  He said, “They have solidly mortared fire places and free wood to burn?  How come nohorse steals the wood?”  Feeling the solid footing under the grass, he stared down at what was, to him, a wonder.  “How can there be such grass over ground that is firm underhoof for the pulling of our caravan?”

I laughed, but gently.  “Rom, I did tell you that the Princess Luna spent two hundred years figuring these things out.  Her title as High Commissioner of Equestrian Roads is not simply a title.  She worked, in harness or by the magic of her own horn to learn how to create many sorts of roads, each suited to different purposes and kinds of land.  She paid equal attention to the waysides for the convenience of the dray ponies who use the roads.  See?  Just over there, is a ready supply of clean water. Even the spacing and kinds of trees give both shade and shelter in bad weather.”

Sando was not paying attention to that.  He was marveling at the road itself.  “Marchhare, how is this road made?  This is no mere layer of gravel.  It is somehow locked in place.”

“That is right, Sando.  First, the way is prepared by digging down to solid sub soil.  Heavy larger stone is laid for a foundation and small rock poured and packed about it to half its depth.  Smaller but still substantial cobbles then cover the foundation and also get half covered with locking gravel. This top surface is laid over that base and solidly packed.  After that, the road is watched closely for ruts, holes or other problems and they are fixed promptly.

Maina observed, “These Royal Roads are a true marvel of this land of Equestria, if the rest of the system is as good as this.”

Casting a practiced eye at the road, I commented, “Most is better than this.  This has had only indifferent maintenance.  You will see.”  In unwitting prophecy, I added, “We are going to be using these roads a lot for a while.”

We took the time to fix a nice meal before hitting the road.

Nore did little happy-skippy dance steps while pulling beside me.  “It almost feels like the caravan is floating!” she exulted.  “These roads are amazing!”

I was making for Haulmarket. They had a fair scheduled and I was guessing that it was still going to be put on.  The town only lost a bit of commons and a few fields. They were going to need the income of the fair for cleanup, if nothing else.

It was not long before we found the first fair notice posted on a wayside note board.  Haulmarket fair was still on and only two days of Pulling away.

Just outside of the town, we came to the fair turnoff.  The pony there to steer exhibitors to the fairground nearly had an attack when he saw Rom’s band.  Even my dear Nore, the smallest of the horses, was big enough that he had to look up to talk to her.  

To his credit, he only asked the proper information and steered us down the correct way.  

The layout director took one look at us and suggested, “You say you gonna do traditional dances and stuff?  Go set up down there at the end of the midway.  Make a big cul-de-sac ring out of your booths.  You can do your dances in the middle of it.”

We parked the caravans in an open ring. Rom directed, “We can just put out the rain flys for booth roofs.  Malit, do we have enough boards to set up counters?  Nore, you are so good with boxes, can you make us some safe cash boxes?”

Things that we had were swiftly set up.  Rom politely asked the fair set up director, “We have heard that you have flood damaged commons.  There are trees and such washed onto it.  We have need of some boards which we can split out of the flood wrack.  We could also set up a big charcoal burn to help you clear the area for future use.  Would that be acceptable?”

The director shrugged, “Don’t see why not, but anything to do with the commons has to go through the Council.  I can’t say either way.”

Council Pony Foulip declared, “Big charcoal burn?  That would be worth lots of bits!  You keep your claw hooves out of that commons!  We will let it by contracts and make us good money!”

He sent a pony around selling cheap boards for counters and such.  Maina took one look at them and snickered, “Those are the sort of wood that you work from?  No wonder your wheels are so bad!”

Malit and Nore, with Sarel’s help, solved the problem of booth parts by picking tall, overgrown grasses from both commons and fairground.  Nore worked it over into fine woodlike boards, both light and strong.  

Nore, pointing proudly at our beautifully appointed booths and said, “It was lucky for us, really, that the pony selling lumber for making booths had such shoddy wood.  It made us look at using grass-wood, like we do for instruments and caravan sides and tops!  Our booths look better than any of the others that are set up so far!”

Glancing up the Midway, I nodded. “That is certainly true!  It looks like we are ready for tomorrow’s fair.  What is for dinner?”

Like a conjurer doing a trick, Nore and Sando produced trays with an array of sweet nettle and clover buns.  They had three dipping sauces for them.  Along side, to complete things was a perfectly huge pot of tea!

We were all gathered around eating our sweet buns and drinking the tea when Council Pony Foulip strode up self-importantly and declared, “Fair don’t open till tomorrow!  You can’t go selling that stuff yet!”

Maina looked up at him and said, “Sell what?  Ordinary food like this?  This is just our dinner.  It is better than a pony made wheel but not much.  What we sell for the fair will be good!”

I could see his mouth watering at our dinner.  “No, Foulip.  You may not have any of our dinner.  Go home to eat, make your own, or buy your dinner from a restaurant.  As you pointed out, earlier, we can’t sell it yet and you have been rude.

“Royal Road Law allows us privacy in our camp, which this is until fair opening tomorrow.”

We finished up with the food. The mares broke out the instruments.  We had THREE lyres now.  Nore had managed to slip another one past my scrutiny.  This one was pretty big.  It had a deeper, sweeter voice than any of the others, so far.  There were several sorts and sizes of flutes to work with too.

The regular evening dancing and singing began.

Shortly, I noticed something.  We had watchers.  Ponies were gathered all about, where they could hear and see.  They were drawn by the loud trills, exotic music, and the brilliant sashes swirling in the firelight.

If it was an omen of things to come, it was  good one.  The day of the fair dawned clear and fine. Nore, Malit and Sarel took the center of our cul-de-sac with Rom and Sando playing flute and lyre.

I was busy at the snack booth.  I set out straight nettle and other baked travel rations, with dipping sauces.  I ground nettle cake flour and Phapa helped to shape and bake the dough.  Maina was busy making up toppings and tea.  Nore had made up a lot of her paper like stuff into cone shaped cups for tea.

Business was brisk.  That is putting it mildly.  We had to open a second chest of travel rations well before noon!  The mares were taking turns at single dances, so that they could rest.

Nore was resting in the food booth to be close to me.  I liked that too, truth be told.  I watched her serve a cup to a cute little filly with bows in her mane and forelock.  

A big pony hoof struck the cup from the filly’s grip!  Foulip demanded, “You gets your snacks up at my booth.  Got spring water and my secret recipe hay twists!”

The filly started to cry, “Don’t have no coppers left!  You spilt my drink!  You owes me my drink!”

Nore, face grim, reached out and touched Foulip’s shoulder lightly.  He squalled in pain as his hoof dangled uselessly.

I gave my wife an amazed look.  A constable charged up.

Foulip started to yap, “Arrest that … thing!  She assaulted me!  Look at my leg!  I done nothing to her and she attack me!”

The constable was not entirely stupid, to my delight.  He asked Nore, “Ma'am, what did happen here?”

Foulip cut across, “I told you! Now haul her off!”

He turned and slapped manacles onto Foulip.  “Sir, I will arrest you if I have another interruption while I am asking my questions.”

Nore, nodded at the constable’s action and said, “What happened was a violation of fair rules. Unless I misunderstood what they are.  It is an offense to interfere with the trade of other booths, exhibits or performers.  He assaulted the little filly here, knocking her fresh bought drink from her hooves.   He tried to send her away from our booth.  It looked like he was about to physically strike her.  To defend the young one, I used the Gyptian Death Touch on his shoulder.  You came to investigate.”

“Gyptian Death Touch?  Is he going to be OK?”

“He will be fine, Constable. He will recover in about an hour.  If I wanted to kill him I would have touched him near his heart or up higher on his neck.”

The constable crouched down to be on the filly’s level and asked, “Did it happen the way that she told me or the way that other pony told me?”

Blubbering a bit, she replied, “He spilled my tea drink.  He say I got to buy water from him but I got no more copper.”

The constable nodded and told her, “I am sorry about your drink.  I am going to take him away. It is all that I am allowed to do.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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[dressedupkiss]

84 days

12 weeks until March 2021.

Twelve weeks doesn’t sound like much.

But I don’t have much to do in my days so the time goes by sort of slowly but at a decent pace. I don’t have any habitual places to go or things to do.

Sometimes I play guitar and ukulele, I sing every now and then each day, I listen to music, I browse the internet...

Sometimes I go for walks but not much in winter time like now. I meditate and burn plan material, sometimes smudging sometimes smoking. I watch movies sometimes.

I lay in my bed basically all day long. Some days I will exercise for around an hour. But most of the time I feel like laying down. I do my laundry and dishes. I keep my place tidy as I can with all these random things.

I won’t be having any visitors anytime soon. My best friend stayed for over a week and left yesterday evening. I’m gonna be alone for a few weeks until Christmas dinners start happening. I’ll get money for Christmas from my dad and I’m not gonna get much from anyone but I don’t mind. It’ll be a chill Xmas this year.

It’s the 7th Monday and on Wednesday I get the dreaded injection again. Oh well. I had a bad dream about having to take another med and it was really stupid, it’s like a hospital and my elementary school and people are bothering me about my health. But there was a sexy lady turning me on so that felt good. She was a redhead and really beautiful.

I’m gonna try to spend lots of money on my MasterCard this month and next month. My friend gave me money for staying here so that covers my Mc payment. I spend $70 extra dollars this month so far though and I usually don’t do that. Oh well.

I just paid 120 on my mc and I have $394 for 20 more days this month. I’ll have free food a few times for early Xmas dinner and on Xmas dinner and I’ll stay at my moms and get fed on Boxing Day too. And my dad will give me money so I’ll have $19 a day for food and any money my dad gives me I will save for my MasterCard.

I’m at $1006 and now $886 but there is about $11 in interest each month so $897 I’ll be at. Hopefully I can spend another hundred on it later this month or next month. I’ll save it for January. And in January I get gst cheque of $160 so I’ll save that for February.

Feb and March will be low fund months cuz I only get $484 a month for all my bills and food and I have to put $120 on my Mc each month at least. So that’s $364 for food in feb and March. Hopefully my dad will get my groceries again for those months.

And then in April I will get $160 gst again which will help and I’ll put it all on my Mc.

I will be paid off by July next year by paying my most reasonable amount and not overdoing it. I should be saving my money to put every little extra bit on my mc but if I just have until summer to have to keep paying I think that will be okay.

I won’t have much extra spending money for the whole summer but I guess I will have to manage. Hopefully my dad buys me groceries and that lasts me all month long so I can buy little extra things here and there. I like spending my money on cool things and treating myself.

I’m glad I’ll be debt free next year. I spent $105 while Joel stayed with me. I bought cds and a sweater and random snacks here and there. At least it was only a hundred but that’s still a lot. Joel’s influence has me spending my dough. But they gave me $150 so I guess I spent my extra. And I paid my Mc and I still have a reasonable amount for food. Roughly $20 a day isn’t bad for a month. And I’ll get Xmas food.

If I can go the rest of this week without buying anything I’ll have a lot extra money. I’ll have to eat rice and soup and such. I have bananas and apples and not much of an appetite. So it should work out. I might even have extra for my Mc which would be awesome.

I want to pay it off before July, maybe I will get lots of birthday money in April and I can use that on it. That would be so nice to spend summer with all my extra money, having my full $484 for everything. I shouldn’t have spent money on random bullshit in earlier months this year but I guess I wasn’t thinking. I remember wasting $70 on clothes I don’t need. Oh well.

I’ve wasted a lot of money on clothes in my life. I’m doing better now but still spending on cds and stuff but I need these cds cuz they are super important music to me. Even though I won’t have a lot of extra spending money I’ll still spend money on things. I try to buy low money food and not eat out much. I think everything will work out and I’ll be paid off before July. I’m excited to be debt free, I will feel so proud.

Joel gets me into money issues kind of. They had $1500 to themselves this month and they’ve already spent almost all of it and it’s only the 7th. They really know how to waste money. I know how to spend and still save and not spend when I’m getting low. If I had $1500 to myself without having to pay rent I would have paid off my credit cards. I’m glad I only have the one credit card.

I’m waiting for my hair to grow and for my Mc to be paid off. I don’t have much else to wait for. I don’t know what kinds of fun things will be happening in springtime summertime because of covid. I wonder if they will solve the virus and everyone can go back to normal. I’m not afraid of the virus and I want to meet new people. But all in due time.

I’m alone a lot but I need to be. Having one best friend who is spiritually inclined and Métis and two spirited is fulfilling enough for my social life. I don’t need much socialization. I like the peace and quiet of the world. I like meditating and praying and being silent and chilling out. I don’t like bullies or loud mouths or rude people. I don’t like dirty stinky people that want to ruin a pure persons clean. I like being clean. I’m also wild and respectful. I love nature and nature loves me. I’m ready for the spring.

I’m gonna be on social assistance for a few more years probably. I don’t know how or where I’ll get a part time job eventually but that will probably be good for me. I just want to keep chilling out for now though.

I get all my time to myself to do whatever I want. That’s a blessing of mine. I’m never bothered by anyone and nobody expects any responsibilities of me except myself. I gotta keep my clothes and dishes clean and bedsheets and body. I have good hygiene and I’m attractive and in decent shape. I’ve got extra tummy poundage but it’s ok it’s not that bad but it’s not the best.

I’m very comfortable and I feel good here. The breeze kisses me and I have a spirit with me that encourages me to feel my best. When I look in the mirror I see beautiful eyes and a nice face. I like myself.

I still dream of Laura a bit but I know I’ll have to wait for death or a miracle day to have any time with her. She completely disregarded my need for love and hurt me deeply. She still looks fun and beautiful but she is not that way to me. Only in my visions is she kind and giving. When I die I will have a lot of satisfying conversations.... in my dreams last night there was a sort of video game with Laura in a car and she was in a wheelchair too and I laughed at her for having a problem in life. Some part of me wants her to have a hard time cuz she made me have such difficult moments for so many years. Her consciousness is riddled with drugs and abuse and she hurt my soul deeply. When I am dead and she is dead I will have a comforting interaction with her and she will probably see why I am fun to love too.

It hurts a lot to find someone fun to love and they don’t feel like loving you back. It hurts a heck of a lot. She was the most elegant beautiful skin I had ever witnessed up close and I fell deeply for her in a way I’ve never experienced before; I lost consciousness yet I was still awake when I fell in love with Laura. I had so many beautiful visions of her... I wondered why nobody else ever could tell how beautiful my love for her was. And I loved her for 8 years. I now feel like I can wait for death or a miracle before I get to talk to her for real.

She made me feel like my life doesn’t mean anything. I felt judged to an insane degree. Slander swarming the air around me, hatred and disgust, rumours and disrespect. There are a lot of angry people in this city of Saskatoon and I dealt with a lot of their inner thoughts about me. Good thing I always know I’m gorgeous and strong and a healer and mighty and beautiful because their slander was unwarranted yet I had to witness it and get through it with a positive new day in my future.

I’ll get to eat sleep and breathe calmly for the next 3 years on social assistance. I wonder when I’ll be weaned off the injection.

Life doesn’t have a lot going on and it is easy. You welcome death and people help you. Be brave enough to suffer and aid will come. For how alone I am, I am still not alone. The spirits bless me and I am kept safe. I have my own family here and my brother died so my life can be more safe with his protection. I fell in love with Laura because love is protective too and the angels blessed me in Laura’s beautiful vision and I got through the toughest part of my life so far.... getting a home to myself.

I am left alone to rumerate and soak up my peace. Nobody has a lot of time for me except my best friend sometimes but she has her own issues and can’t be by my side every time.

I am on a spirit walk to find the nature that needs me.

I’m not close with my mom anymore because she wants me to be feminine and I’ve always been masculine; I feel disrespected by her and it hurts me deeply.

I’m not close with my step dad because he doesn’t like homosexuals and since I came out of the closet I know he has an issue with me.

I’m not close with my dad because he is sick and says horrible things and expects everything to be fine forever. He has serious emotional issues and doesn’t deal with them and he abuses drugs and alcohol and I don’t have any respect for that person.

I don’t like my dads girlfriend because she doesn’t understand what I am and she assumes disgusting things and has a sick understanding of the world. She judges my life and she wastes hers away. I don’t respect her either.

My living triplet brother has shown me time after time that he takes my power away when I am weak and he weakens me more so he can be dominant. He doesn’t respect me and I don’t feel safe around him. He isn’t a good guy and I don’t admire his way of life. He has let me down too many times for me to keep a true love for him.

My older brother is a hermit and never contacts me and he seems like a pussy and he doesn’t enjoy being a man. I lost my communication with him years ago when I was having stressful mental times. Everyone in the family judges me now because I am the crazy one.

My best friend spends time with me out of their convenience and gets me to help them with stuff and we don’t hang out to hang out it’s always to fix some issue in their life. They don’t have the energy to talk to me about what I want to talk about so I feel stepped on and disregarded by them. They say they love me and I know they do but they also don’t have a lot of time for me. I am quiet and calm so they assume I have nothing to do and nowhere to want to be. They are a loud busy person and conceited and annoying and repetitive and they think I’m a pussy but I think they are too. We fight sometimes because they’re not true best friend material for me but they’re all I have. I don’t have a deep thinking artist friend. I don’t have a fun loving musician friend. I just have a self hating erratic friend that doesn’t respect me a lot of the time but is impossible to see that. I am challenged to stick up for myself most times I see them and that’s not a friendship situation. That’s a bully. But they’re all I have for social life so I take what they say with a grain of salt and I enjoy them and their dog as much as I can. They’re still a person that cares about me, they just have a lot of self centred habitual thinking that bothers me.

I don’t have anyone else in my life. My family doesn’t feel like family anymore for years now and I only have one okay friend that my family doesn’t like. So I have no beautiful woman today, I have no beautiful best friend.

I have issues with people and I have a lot of alone time. I feel hurt by everyone and I need to find someone who appreciates me for me.

Time will tell who in this city will fall for me.

I will be respected one day.

And I will live every day until I die.

I probably have over 25000 days to live if I die of old age. That’s a thousand days 25 times over. I have a lot of days to get through.

And the sun will shine and the birds will sing and the fluffy kitties and puppies will play. And the world will be okay. And people will heal.

It is a good life.

[nerdreid]

chemistry killer

the BAU gets called in for a series of murders happening in Brooklyn, New York. when they arrive at the police precinct, they are met with an odd set of detectives, some more excited about their arrival than the others. and what is is about dr. spencer reid that fascinates detective jake peralta so much?

a/n: i’m just gonna be honest, i usually don’t like crossover fics, but i thought of this and i just had to write it because the bau team and the nine-nine squad meeting? amazing. this is probably going to be long with multiple chapters so this is only the first part. i promise it will get more interesting! also, this is alternatively titled: jake has a crush on a fbi nerd but everyone including himself is clueless

please leave some feedback if you liked it (or didn’t like it that’s good too)

Everyone in the Behavioral Analysis Unit was finishing up paperwork from prior cases and getting ready to go home. That was, until Garcia walked into the bullpen. Holding up her phone, she clarified: "Sorry my dear crime fighters, I just got a text; we have a case."

The others in the room groaned. "We just got back from Florida, please tell me it isn't Florida again", JJ said, throwing her head back in frustration.

"It is not, follow me", Garcia replied as she walked up the stairs leading to the briefing room. The others closed their files and followed her example not long thereafter.

When all the agents had taken a chair at the round table, Garcia picked up the remote and started the briefing. She frowned in disgust of the pictures that showed up on the screen. "This morning an unidentified body was found in a dumpster in Brooklyn, New York."

Reid leaned forward, "just one body? Why did they call us in?"

"Oh sweet boy wonder," Garcia shook her head, "you didn't let me finish. Two weeks ago the remains of Gerald Reynolds were discovered in an alley, just four blocks from the dumpster one." More photos appeared on the monitor. "And a week after that, the lifeless body of Ethel Hall, also in an alley behind a dumpster. That makes three."

"The local police department contacted us, so we're heading there now. Wheels up in thirty",  Hotch said. The other members of the team closed their tablets - Reid his paper file -, and started packing their stuff.

---

"The FBI? You mean that the actual federal bureau of investigation is taking over our case?", detective Peralta half-yelled, "I'm not sure whether this super awesome or worse than the Vulture."

"Yes. There have been three murders, which classifies as serial. That means we have the contact the FBI. Their behavioral analysis unit is flying over here as we speak. You will be working together closely", captain Holt stated matter-of-factly. "Please treat them with respect, they are the best at what they do."

Peralta scoffed, "we can solve this case by ourselves, we don't need some federal jerks to come run this place, right?"

Silence.

"We have no physical evidence, no witnesses, no suspects and no leads. Admit it, there is a serial killer on the loose and we are nowhere near solving it. Let the Feds do what they gotta", Diaz said to him before returning to her desk.

Peralta sighed and let himself fall back in his office chair. He couldn't handle the fact that there were cases he couldn't solve and that outsiders were going to step in. But, on the other hand, it is kind of amazing to get to work with the FBI. What would they look like? Are they all in a full suit with a tie and cool-looking sunglasses, like in movies? That would be epic, Peralta thought to himself.

A couple of hours later the elevator dinged, and revealed six people slightly crammed in there. The first man to step out was, in fact, wearing a suit. Behind him were three more men and two women, not in suits, but still intimidating. Captain Holt walked out of his office to introduce himself. "You must be from the behavioral analysis unit, I'm captain Raymond Holt, welcome."

"Yes, I believe we spoke over the phone. Aaron Hotchner", the suit said, "this is my team: SSA's David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau and dr. Spencer Reid." They all shook hands with Holt, except for dr. Reid, which earned him an odd glance. The agent waved as a form of greeting, giving the captain a sort of apologetic look.

Holt nodded, "You'll be working with our squad; sergeant Terry Jeffords and detectives Jake Peralta, Amy Santiago, Charles Boyle and Rosa Diaz. You can set up in the meeting room over there."

"Thank you." Agent Hotchner turned around to face his own team, "Morgan, I want you to go to the M.E. and see what they have to say about the cause of death. Reid, I want you to start with the geographical profile and go over possible suspects together with JJ. Prentiss and I will go to the latest crime scene. And, Dave, if you could go back to the second dump site, maybe it could tell us more about the unsub."

"You might want one of my detectives to assist you, they know the way around here", Captain Holt said. "Diaz, Santiago, Boyle, please", he ordered them over.

Agent Hotchner shook hands with Diaz, who was assigned to him and agent Prentiss, "I appreciate that, thank you."

The FBI agents and their assigned detectives exited the building, leaving dr. Reid and JJ behind. The two walked over to the meeting room, where multiple whiteboards were set up.

Peralta stood up out of his chair, "what about me? Why are you giving all the others the cool tasks?" Motioning towards the meeting room, Holt replied, "you can assist them."

"I'm not gonna sit there listening to them talking when I could be out there solving the case", Jake sighed. His captain stared at him, "Peralta, go over there. That is an order."

Groaning, the detective made his way to the table on which the two agents where sitting. The male said something to the female before standing up and grabbing a marker. He drew something on the map pinned to a board, and pointed at it while turning back to his partner.

"Wow, what's all that?", Peralta asked in reference to the multicolored arrows on the map. "The locations where the three victims were found and where they were last seen. I'm putting together a geographical profile based on those factors. Which means that the unsub probably works or lives in this area", the male agent said as he pointed to the triangle he had drawn.

Jake frowned, "unsub?"

"Unknown subject. It's what we call the offender", the man clarified.

The female turned her attention to Jake, "you're detective Peralta, right? I'm SSA Jennifer Jareau."

Jake took the hand she stuck out, "yes, Jake Peralta it is. Nice to meet you." He went to shake the male agent's hand too, but didn't get much movement in response. "I have a... eh, germ thing. Sorry. Dr. Spencer Reid", the man introduced himself.

"Cool cool coolcoolcool", Jake paused, "so, um, is there something I can do for you?"

"Actually, yes", agent Jareau said, "based on the sophistication of the crimes, we think this isn't the unsub's first time doing this. He might not have killed before, but he has probably been arrested at some point, for smaller offences like animal torture, abuse or even arson. We need all of your arrest files on those types of crimes, going back at least five years."

"Uh, sure. I'll get you a computer and a log-in code for the system"

"Actually," agent Reid said as Jake was about to leave the room, "I would like to have the paper files."

Jake was a little confused, "are you sure? There are like, hundreds of those. It would take days to get through every single one."

Agent Jareau smiled at him, "trust me, detective, it won't be a problem."

"Okay, okay, okay. You might need to help me carry all of them though."

JJ left with Jake to get the files while Reid stayed behind to work on the profile. About twenty minutes later they were on their fourth time walking back with a stack of files in their arms. In the briefing room dr. Reid was sat behind the piles of paper, flipping through them one by one. Jake put his stack next to the others. "We're almost finished, just a couple of boxes left to go through now", he told the FBI agent. He didn't get a reaction and Jake wondered if Reid had even heard what he said.

Another stroll to the archive room and dozens of files later, Jake sat down on the corner of the desk on which all the paper was lying.

JJ walked in holding another stack, "there only a couple left back there now."

When Jake made an effort to stand up, she stopped him with a friendly smile, "I'll get them."

The detective raised an eyebrow at her, but she had already left the room. Jake decided to take a chair next to agent Reid, who was still going trough the files at an incredibly high speed.  "No offence, but, are you even reading the words?", he asked.

"I am. I can read 20,000 words per minute. It's a method called speed reading where you use scanning and meta guiding to get through the text faster. Scanning is the process where one actively looks for information by organizing information in a visually hierarchical manner that showcases the interrelatedness of the information for better retrievability-", Reid replied, without removing his eyes from the paper once. "- I think I got something."

Jake blinked, surprised by the sudden amount of words spoken, "I've know idea what any of that was what you just said, but that doesn't matter. Show me what you got! -Wait, no", he bit his lip and shook his head, "that sounds wrong. never mind. What did you find?"

Reid seemed unbothered by the other man's comment and slid the file slightly in Jake's direction. He started explained his theory and how the suspect's backstory fit exactly into the preliminary profile they had. After a couple of sentences he began to use terms too complicated for Jake to understand and thus he trailed off. So, Jake let his eyes wander over to take a good look at the agent. Dr. Reid was tall and pretty skinny, which made him appear even taller than he already was. His hands were constantly moving while he was talking, but seemingly without any clear purpose. Speaking of his hands, he had long, elegant fingers that caught Jake's attention when Spencer traced a line on the map. His way of dressing was kind of odd, though. Jake would probably describe it as 'grandpa style', mostly because of the cardigan. The FBI agent was still talking and didn't detect that the other person in the room wasn't listening at all. In the waving of limbs, Jake noticed that Reid wore his watch over his sleeve.

Agent Jareau's entrance made him snap back into reality. "I got the last files. Did you find something?", she asked.

"Actually, yes", dr. Reid began, "I think we need to call Hotch about this. Look."

JJ took the paper Reid handed her and while she was reading it, her eyes widened. She took out her phone and dialed a number.

"Hotch, it's me. Yeah, Reid might've found something. Guy tortured animals almost in the exact same way as the bodies."

Even though he hadn't been paying much attention before, detective Peralta now was curious to see what this was all about. He picked up the file that JJ had put back on the table, flipped through the pages, and immediately regretted it. At the sight of mutilated pets he scrunched up his face and quickly threw the papers away. Dr. Reid noticed and shot him a puzzled glance.

Agent Jareau, who was still on the phone, turned herself to her partner, "call Garcia, we need to know everything there is on this guy."

Reid nodded and got his phone out of his pocket. An old Nokia. Now it was Jake's turn to shoot a glance, who uses those things these days?

"Hey Garcia, I'm gonna put you on speaker, hang on."

Reid's slender fingers clumsily pushed some buttons and he set the phone down on the table. A female voice spoke, "this is the oracle of miracles speaking, talk to me."

"Find out everything you can about a Rob Carrier, he might be the unsub", dr. Reid said.

A faint tapping of keys could be heard from the other side of the line. "Searching... Found it! Robert F. Carrier, born on November 23rd 1987. Works as a janitor at the Feldman Chemistry lab. Was arrested for, oh god, animal torture and has a juvie record for beating up his classmate because, quote "the turd", unquote, stole a pencil from him."

Jake snorted at the choice of words, which caused the others to give him a disapproving look. Spencer turned his attention back to the phone, "did you said Feldman Chemistry? The second victim worked there."

"You're right, Ethel Hall, one of the lead chemist in the lab. She has been working there for twenty years now, recently got another promotion", Garcia said.

"That's a connection and motive. Garcia, can you send us Carrier's-"

"Adress? Yes, already done. Sent it to the others too", she interrupted Reid. "Be safe, babies. Penelope Garcia out." There was a click; Garcia had hung up.

JJ picked her jacket up from the chair it was thrown over and said, "Hotch and Prentiss got quite something out of the dump site, but they can brief us over the phone. We will meet them at Carrier's house, let's go."

Jake pretty much jumped out of his chair, he was way too excited about there finally being some action to care what some FBI agents thought of him. They were staring at him though. "You're the lead investigator on this case, you're supposed to go first. We're only here to assist the police", agent Jareau clarified.

"Right."

[dominodebt]

overwatch wip hell

hey kids, sorry I’ve been pretty absent. I’ve been pretty fucking stressed out lol not like my fuckin country is falling apart or anything and I just really haven’t had the motivation to write, but I’m trying, because I miss talking to you guys about Overwatch and fun stuff like that, so here’s a WIP I’ve been struggling with since, like, fucking November.

also if y’all play OW on PS4 you need to hit me the fuck up so I can play with someone because if I have to solo-queue one more time I’m gonna punch myself in the face

Anyway enjoy some pre-canon, pre-Overwatch Ana, Jack, and Gabe antics.

He’s blond—and it annoys Reyes in a way he knows it has no reason to.

           “He’s blond,” Ana murmurs, gesturing with her chin as if he could have missed the impossibly golden shock of hair that stands out like a fucking searchlight in the crowded mess hall of the Gibraltar base.

           “Yeah. I can see that.” Reyes shoots her an icy sideways glance that makes her smirk—tattoo under her eye crinkling with the action.

           “He’s handsome,” she adds, just because she knows it’ll irritate him.

           “He looks like Captain fucking America.”

           “And?” Ana pokes him in the ribs, making him jump and grit his teeth. He hates it when she teases him like this in front of other agents. “You look like Captain Garbage. When’s the last time you got a full eight hours?”

           “If I got eight hours of sleep I wouldn’t know how to function,” Reyes mutters, watching as yet another agent makes his way over to the blond man, excitedly shaking one hand and gesturing wildly with the other. The man just manages a small smile, but Reyes gets the feeling he’s not loving the spotlight.

           Well, that’s something at least.

           “Always so dramatic,” Ana is complaining when he tunes into her again. “Honestly, Gabe. Fareeha gives me less attitude than you, and she’s nine.”

           “That’s because Fareeha is afraid of you,” Reyes mutters, frowning as the man reaches up to cup the back of his neck—clearly a nervous habit that he has no business still possessing at this age.

           Ana scoffs. “You say that like you’re not afraid of me,” she mutters.

           Reyes lets that one slide.

           Silence falls between the two—companionable and easy like always—until Ana flicks her gaze up to him, arching an eyebrow.

           “You do realize you’re going to have to—”

           “Yeah. I got it. Thanks.”

           Ana snorts at his curt answer, shaking her head.

           “Try not to be an asshole,” she suggests, crossing her arms. She offers a blasé shrug. “Or don’t. You could use a good punch to the face.”

           Reyes shoots her a sour scowl. “Like he’d be able to get a hit in,” he growls at her. He grew up boxing in back allies with kids five years his senior and twice as heavy. If Captain America tried anything, that perfect square jaw would be broken in a second.

           Ana bares her teeth in a smirk that’s more wild than humored. “Never bet against a sharpshooter, Gabe.”

           Reyes just rolls his eyes—but again, doesn’t really contradict her because, again, she’s not really wrong—and strides off to meet the damn fucking asshole as Ana drifts away, towards the back of the mess hall.

           The solider fussing over the blond man scrambles out of the way when Reyes snaps at him to do so, and he sizes the other man up with a critical eye before holding out his hand.

          “Reyes,” he states flatly, because he’s made one friend in Ana Amari and that’s already a) exceeding his quota and b) a helluva lot more trouble than it’s worth. He’s not looking for another friend, and if he were, he wouldn’t find it in this hot-off-the-press, life-sized GI Joe doll.

           The man nods, clasping his hand in Reyes’, who briefly entertains the idea of using his leverage to break the other man’s arm, but he catches Ana’s eye as she loiters in the back of the mess hall, sharp eyes missing nothing.

           She arches a single eyebrow.

           So Cap gets to keep his limbs intact. This time.

           “Colonel Jack Morrison,” he introduces himself, all perfect posture and controlled cadence.

           “Great,” Reyes drops his hand and just resists the urge to make a show of wiping his hand on his pant leg. This guy is everything he hates about the military in one fucking package, and Reyes wants him off the base yesterday. “What the hell are you doin’ here?”

           Morrison starts, bright blue eyes widening in surprise. “You didn’t receive the report?”

          Honest shock. Reyes could honestly shoot him.

          “Do you know how many reports get sent here everyday?” he asks, glaring hard. “You think anyone’s got time to read every last one of ‘em?”

          Morrison’s jaw tightens, eyebrows pulling together—Reyes watches closely, waiting for the solider to snap back—but then he relaxes. Lets go of his anger like it’s a physical, tangible thing he can choose to possess or drop.

          He squares his soldiers, regaining his militaristic pose. Reyes is a little disappointed. Cap isn’t as easy to rile as he’d bargained.

          Guess he’ll have to try harder.

          “Apologies, then,” Morrison forces out. “I’m Jack Morrison. I was sent here by the United States military under orders of General Benjamin—”

          “Benji sent you here?” Reyes interrupts, and now he’s the one with a fat look of surprise on his face.

          Morrison blinks. “Um, yes. Yes, sir.”

           “Don’t call him sir, it goes to his head.”

          Reyes doesn’t need to look to know it’s Ana, but he does anyway, shooting her a dark look as she strides up, all confidence and capability and cool composure.

          She flashes Morrison a bright smile. “At this rate, he won’t be able to fit through doorways—”

           “Ana.”

           “—or maybe he’ll become top-heavy and fall over,” she goes on like he hadn’t spoken, shrugging carelessly. “Who’s to say?”

           Morrison stares at the sniper with such a bemused look on his face that Reyes almost cracks a grin. This man might be the top of his class to get Benji’s stamp of approval, but there’s no training in the world that can prepare you for the Egyptian sharpshooter.

           She smiles again, extending a hand.

           “Captain Ana Amari. A pleasure.”

           Morrison shakes her hand, clearly on autopilot—Reyes wonders if he’s struck by her disarming grace or her blatant backtalk to a superior—and crosses his arms.

           “Ana helps things running smoothly here,” he explains. Morrison seems to finally compose himself and murmurs a quick introduction to Ana, who gifts him with another show-stopping smile. Reyes watches as a steady flush spreads across the soldier’s cheekbones—god give him patience, holy shit—and kicks at Ana’s ankles. She nimbly steps out of range, smile slipping into a smirk.

          Fucking instigator. And she asks where Fareeha gets it.

           “If you’re gonna be a problem, beat it,” he orders, frowning hard. She knows exactly what she’s doing. Of course she does.

           “Whatever you say, Gabe,” she replies smoothly, tipping Morrison a wink as she slips off.

           Reyes watches her go for a moment before turning back to Morrison with a sigh.

           “Alright, well, if Ben sent you then I guess you’re fucking stuck with us,” Reyes begins with a shrug. “So welcome to Overwatch or whatever.”

           Morrison frowns, and Reyes just sighs again when he opens his mouth to doubtlessly ask a hundred questions.

           “Look man, it’s a mess, okay?” He starts walking out of the mess hall and gestures for Morrison to follow. The other man’s combat boots thud loudly against the floor as he falls into pace beside Reyes.

           “I thought…I thought Overwatch was created to fight the Omnics,” Morrison begins, face pinched in confusion.

           Reyes scoffs. “Overwatch was created three days ago. The UN picked a handful of soldiers, threw a bunch of money at us, and told us to win a war.” He shakes his head, jaw twitching with dislike. “Damn fuckin’ suits don’t know how to solve anything. They just keep making new organizations to blame.”

           Morrison keeps his contemplative expression as they turn a corner.

           “So…who’s in charge?” he asks.

           Reyes almost laughs. Who indeed?

           “There’s no coherent leadership,” Reyes explains as they walk. “I mean, everyone kinda defaulted to me because, y’know, supersoliders seem like a logical fuckin’ choice in a crisis.” His words are soaked in bitterness. He doesn’t even care.

           Something shifts in Morrison’s expression. Reyes catches it out of the corner of his eye.

           “What?”

          Morrison just scoffs under his breath. “Nothing. It’s just…” he trails off, shooting Reyes a sideways look, quirking an eyebrow. “Pity the Program didn’t make us super smart, huh?”

           A pause. Reyes shoots the other man a quick look.

           He hadn’t talked to another solider from the Program since…well, since he got shipped out to Gibraltar.

           Maybe having Cap around wouldn’t be so bad.

           “That’s what we’ve got Ana for,” Reyes replies automatically. A pause. He turns to look Morrison dead in the eyes.

           “Don’t you dare tell her I said that,” he warns, completely serious. Morrison’s lips twitch, fighting a smirk.

           “I…I’m pretty sure she already knows—”

           “Yeah, I know, but you don’t need to tell her.”

           Morrison’s mask cracks and the corner of his mouth tugs up in a smirk that Reyes knows isn’t from the Program.

           “Why?” he asks, an innocent lilt to his voice. “Think it’ll go to her head?”

a little incoherent, but hey. It’s a WIP. I’m also tweaking the “official” backstory. I wanted the story to be about the three of them together, so I cut out the time Jack and Gabe spent as soldiers together. I argue that they’d bond plenty quickly fighting together in the Omnic Crisis, with the added fun of Ana being there to yell at them.

let me know what you think? also shoot me ideas, I’m all out.

[reytonbleyer]

The Things We Do For Love - Chapter Seven

The worst part of loving someone is realizing you need to let them go. Unless you didn’t have to… Unless you never knew.

ff.net // wattpad

CHAPTER SEVEN: Time Ain’t No Healer

I can't breathe.

That was the one thought in Riley's head as her eyes shot open. For a couple terrifying seconds she feared she was drowning. However, as her blurred vision found back some focus Riley recognized the familiar fairy lights dangling over her bed. She sat up startled, trying to even her breathing only to find Maya staring at her, an empty bucket in her hands.

"What the hell?" She shouted, looking down at her soaked clothes and mattress.

"Morning, Sunshine." Her best friend wore a delighted evil smirk, which along with the sarcasm dripping from her voice only made Riley angrier "You might wanna get up and change, Josh will be here in twenty and I don't think your parents will appreciate the new look."

Suddenly realization hit her. Family brunch. Riley jumped up and ran to the bathroom, she could be mad at Maya later. Right now, number one priority was to make herself look minimally presentable for her parents and her smudged mascara clearly wasn't helping her case. So she dived into the shower and removed her makeup as best and fast as she could, rushing back to the room to try and find something to wear. Lucky for Riley, Maya had an outfit picked out for her already.

"What time did you arrive last night?" Her voice was serious as she handed the brunette a pair of jeans and a blouse.

"Are you for real?" She snatched the clothes from Maya's grip.

"Riles..."

"Don't know, Mom." She snapped, turning away from the blonde.

"Okay, then how did you get home?" As silence filled the space between them, Maya grew even more frustrated "Riley! I'm serious! Talk to me!"

"I don't know, ok?" She replied irritated, putting on the blouse "I was with Chris, he must have dropped me off, I just... can we not do this right now?"

Riley could tell Maya was worried and she knew her friend had the right to be, but for some reason she couldn't bring herself to apologize. Instead, she walked past her and back to the bathroom, she had a hair crisis to avert and less than ten minutes to do it.

"You can't even remember how you... ok, this needs to stop." She stood by the doorframe, her eyes locked on Riley's through the mirror.

"Maya..."

"I'm serious! This isn't like you!" Maya's crossed arms and knitted brows matched her warning tone as she took two steps closer to her friend.

"Stop! Just stop okay?" Riley yelled, slamming the hairbrush against the counter and turning around to face the blonde "So I got drunk, big deal! I got home safe, everything is fine, just drop it! My head hurts like hell, I feel like throwing up my guts and I'm about to put on a happy face for my parents when really all I want to do is sleep this freaking hangover off, so I really don't need you to judge me right now!"

"I'm not judging, Riley, I'm worrying myself sick over you! This is the third time you do this, you go out, you don't tell anyone where you're headed and then spend the night drinking yourself senseless! I understood it the first time, when Lucas... well, when that happened. But now..." Finally, Maya's expression seemed to soften as she drifted off, studying the way Riley's lips turned into a thin line at the mere mention of his name.

"You're freaking out over nothing." Riley's voice suddenly lacked any kind of emotion. She turned back to the mirror, pulling her hair up in a ponytail "And I do tell people where I'm going. I just said I was with Chris last night."

"Of course you were." Maya mumbles, rolling her eyes.

"Look, just because you're jealous I'm friends with him doesn't mean..."

"That's not what this is about and you know it." Maya cut her sharply "It's been two years, Riley. I've done my best to be there for you, to be a supportive friend, but I can't help if you won't let me. You're shutting me out, time and again! I feel like I don't even know you anymore! And I don't know what you think you're doing or what you're looking for in order to move on, but I sure as hell know you won't find it on the bottom of a red solo cup."

Riley was speechless as she stared at her best friend through the mirror. Maya's eyes were tired and distant, worse, they were hurt. I'm worrying myself sick over you. It was true, she could hear it in her voice, see it painted all over her face. For the first time since waking up Riley felt truly guilty.

She was never quite the drinker. She would have a drink or two whenever she went to a party with Maya, Josh or Chris and sometimes a glass of wine with her parents on special occasions. Riley Matthews was a fixer at her core and she wasn't one to turn to vodka for comfort or tequila for advice, no, she worked through problems; she solved them. Well everyone's problems but her own. Those she mostly ignored, as if pretending they didn't exist would eventually have them vanished. However, every September, on this one particular night she failed to convince herself of such act. On such dreadful autumn evening, Riley found alcohol to be the only thing that came anywhere near close easing her pain. So she drank. One night a year she allowed herself to get drunk enough to forget, even if for just a few hours, the horrible secret she'd been carrying around in her heart for the last two years and its painful consequences.

Oddly enough, the most mortifying night of the whole year for Riley was probably one of the happiest to her best friend. God, she still recalled waking up the morning he left...

- x -

Riley felt like crap. As she rolled out of bed and crawled to the bathroom, the brunette was a hundred percent sure she had never felt quite this miserable in her entire life. She sat on the cold tiles for what felt like eternity, embraced to the toilet, wondering through her hazy state of mind how could she have hit rock bottom so fast and suddenly. When all of her stomach contents had been flushed away, she forced herself to get up and shower.

Riley spent the day alone, locked in the room, fighting a losing battle against all thoughts Lucas, the pain in her chest growing stronger by the second the more sober she felt. As Riley replayed the previous night, over and over again, she knew there were some missing pieces to the puzzle, but the main image remained painfully clear in her head. She left the party with every intention of meeting Lucas. Even if just to see him one last time before he left. Maybe he wasn't as mad anymore, maybe they could still be friends, maybe Lucas had thought things through and understood A&M was the best thing for him.

Soon enough, she found her feet planted on the sidewalk before his building as Riley looked up to Lucas's room. It was nearly 3am and the lights were still on, the boxes pilling on the other side of the glass, blocking most of his window. A tear escaped her eyes as the reality of it all settled in... she couldn't do it. She couldn't put both of them through that suffering for nothing; she couldn't talk to him and risk ruining everything. Even worse, she couldn't risk hurting Lucas any further. So she thought to herself one last quiet farewell and turned around.

Still inebriated from a mix of alcohol and emotion, Riley wasn't too sure where she was headed or what she was doing until she was well into her fourth shot of tequila on a random club downtown and by then it was too late. From the remaining of that night she vaguely recalled getting a cab, falling on her bed and crying herself to sleep.

Her next memory is waking up to the sunrays on her face the next morning, her heartbeat immediately quickening its pace as she reached for her phone to check the time. 8:13 am. He was gone. She felt a salty tear roll down her cheek to her lips, soon followed by many more, her whole body aching as she sobbed against the pillow. She couldn't get up, she couldn't eat, she could barely breathe through the pain in her chest. Riley wanted nothing more than for that terrible day to end and yet time went by impossibly slowly. She was left alone with her thoughts and memories until dawn, when Maya came through the door with a beaming smile.

"Man, I love college!" She announced walking in, still in her dress from last night, only with an additional plaid shirt over it "You're never gonna believe it, but the craziest thing happened last night!"

"Yeah?" Riley whispered, wiping her tears away, unable to put on a smile. She sat down on the bed, thankful that Maya seemed too blinded with bliss and too busy getting rid of her outfit and makeup to notice her poor mood.

"Ok, so after I beat him on beer pong for, I don't know, the billionth time, Josh said he had a special place to show me. So he took me to the roof and for the first time the whole night there wasn't anyone around. We sat there and talked for hours and it wasn't just that, Riles, he was looking at me unlike anyone ever did before. It was like we were seeing each other, really seeing each other, for the first time. Then the sun started to come up and he was silent all of a sudden, and I mean absolutely and completely mute, just staring blankly ahead for minutes straight, so I asked him what was wrong and he said" Maya brought her hands to her face and took a deep breath as if to compose herself, her never wavering grin growing even bigger with the memory "He said he was trying to gather up the courage to do something he had waited for what felt like a lifetime to do."

"Oh my God." Riley's eyes widened "So you...?"

"We kissed!" She giggled like a kid, shaking her head as if she couldn't believe it herself "And it was everything I could have dreamed of and more! You know, the two of us all alone, the sun rising behind us and, God, I'm not exactly a hopeless romantic, but it was perfect, Riley. It was like everything suddenly made sense, all the years and the waiting fell into perspective, like they meant something, they were worth it. And then..."

"And then?" She willed Maya to continue.

"He asked me if I remembered the promise we made on the Ski Lodge. And of course I said yes. So he said and I quote" She closed her eyes as if to focus on reciting every word correctly "We've waited forever for our someday to come, we've both been playing the long game on our own for far too long and I don't want to waste another second so Maya Penelope Hart, if you still want me to, I would love to call you my girlfriend."

"Maya, that's... that's beautiful! I'm so happy for you!" She truly was. Riley finally managed to smile, genuinely happy for her best friend.

Seeing her like this... it brought a warmth to Riley's heart, one she now felt like a stranger to. But it wasn't simply that, Maya was different. She had been since being accepted to NYU. Maya had always had a spark, one many people missed and just as many others misjudged. But Riley had always seen something more within her, she had always believed in her, even more so than her best friend did herself. Now, as she looked at Maya, she no longer saw that weak yet promising spark, she saw more, she saw a glow unlike any other shinning behind her blue eyes. She had seen glimpses of it for a while, but it was like everything had finally fallen into place in her life and it was beautiful to witness. She had a family, she had a future, she had love. Maya, the fierce Amazon warrior whose biggest battle had always been against herself had not only found hope, she had seemingly found peace.

"It's aunt Maya from now on." The blonde said serious for a moment, before bursting into laughter and launching herself onto Riley, hugging her as tight as she could "Oh and I'm sorry I was out all day, I just really wanted to spend some time with my boyfriend. That's so weird, I get to call him boyfriend now and..." As she let go of the hug, Maya studied her best friend's features up close for the first time since walking in. A second later it downed on her. Something had happened "Riles?" Maya's voice was careful, both her hands cradling Riley's cheeks as her eyes examined every inch of the brunette's face. She had been crying "Riley, what's wrong?"

There was no point denying it. She didn't have the energy to pretend. But more than that, Riley had to say it. She had to admit it out loud. She took a shaky breath, her eyes locked on Maya's as the words she had chased out of her brain the whole day left her lips.

"It's, hum, it's Lucas. He... he took a plane this morning. He's gone."

- x -

"I just wish you would talk to me." Maya whispered, snapping Riley back to reality. The blonde simply averted her eyes, turning around and closing the bathroom door behind her.

"There's nothing to talk about." Riley whispered to herself sadly, unable to look in the mirror.

Of course there were things to talk about. The problem was Riley had no idea how to say them. Even thinking about him hurt, so if anything she wanted to forget. Still, knowing it was impossible, she was just choosing to try and ignore it. Most days she managed to get by, put on a good enough act to even fool herself that she was moving on, getting over, but sometimes... I was just too much.

She knew she was shutting Maya out and part of her hated it. However this other part knew she needed this to survive life without Lucas. Hell, she did it to everybody, Josh, Farkle, Zay, Izzy and virtually anyone else that played a role in her relationship with Lucas. Even her bond with her parents had suffered in the process. She knew by closing herself up from them she was jeopardizing some of the most important relationships in her life, but Riley just didn't see another way. She had tried for almost a year to go about her life as usual, to remain perfect smiley Riley all happy and unstained, but she was no longer that girl. She wasn't sure she even knew her anymore.

Being with her friends suddenly felt like work. They were ever lasting reminders of Lucas and being around them... she was losing it. Hanging out with them and pretending it wasn't killing her, the memories of him each of them brought, meant Riley had to constantly play her character in order not to mess with their group dynamic and eventually she was too exhausted to keep the act going, which lead to Riley pulling herself out of the equation altogether.

She barely talked to Izzy or Farkle anymore, but that she could blame that on the distance, given they were always busy being Harvard's most brilliant couple. She hadn't talked to Zay in months, even though he was still in New York, though their relationship had been strained from the moment Lucas hopped on that plane to Texas and things had only deteriorated since. She saw Josh often but he was usually with Maya and third wheeling was a good way to avoid any focus on herself and her own issues, while the two love birds were too swept up in their own little world. But Maya... Maya was right there. All the time.

That was the hardest part. Lie to her best friend that she was okay or push her away when she tried to bring him up. She had long given up on making peace with her own choices, so Riley decided it was better to just try and leave the past where it should be, behind her. A task hard enough on itself and nearly impossible when your best friend is constantly rubbing it on your face. Riley knew, deep down, Maya had a point. But it hurt. And Maya's intentions, though the best in the world, were still no painkiller. Two years later and it still hurt just as much as it did then, if not worse. So yes, Riley had given up trying to fight or explain; two things Maya constantly pushed her to do. So she shut her out. Repeatedly.

But of course, Maya being Maya, she needed someone to blame, someone who wasn't Riley. So she did. She blamed Chris. She blamed the one person who Riley hadn't shut out of her life, the one she now seemed to confide in, the only one who made her look slightly more like her real best friend, not the shell of a human being hiding behind a happy mask she now shared her room with. And God, did Maya resent him for it.

"Josh's waiting outside in the car." Maya called out from the room, her voice breaking the Riley's trance yet again "We better get going."

- x -

She was doing a great job. Hiding the hangover from her parents was way easier than she thought it would be. What was really hard, however, was sitting for hours seventh wheeling her parents, Maya, Josh, Auggie and his girlfriend Ava, or wife, or whatever they were by now. Still, Riley smiled and talked when necessary, keeping just the right amount of distance from the conversation, as she had been doing for years now.

So far so good, all major awkwardness or arguments had been successfully dodged, plus she had already texted Chris instructing him to come pick her up in ten minutes tops. She knew Maya and Josh would probably want to celebrate their two year anniversary after this and she didn't want to butt in. Or maybe it was the fact today was kind of an anniversary to Riley as well, only not such a great one.

She didn't want to risk being left alone with her parents either, for she would be much more vulnerable to their 'harmless curiosity' about her life. She just had to make it through a few more minutes, if she laid low and didn't call too much attention, maybe this time she could avoid...

"So what about you, honey, any news you want to share with us?"

Of course. How naïve of her to believe for a second she would get through today without an interrogation. To anyone else this was simple small talk, anything but a loaded question. But it wasn't, it was her mother's opening to what would soon become a series of inquisitive assumptions on Riley's personal life, and love life if you will, or actually the lack of thereof.

"Well, Chris and I are working on a new project together." She answered quickly, before Topanga could elaborate on the topic. Yes, she would talk about Chris, her mother liked Chris, Chris was a good buffer.

"Really? What is it?" Her mother smiled interested, resting her chin on her hands, as Maya shifted uncomfortably by Riley's side.

"Well, you know the animal shelter he volunteers downtown? They really need some extra money to keep it going so I offered to help. I'm taking some pictures, we'll make some flyers and hopefully get people's attention. We are planning on doing a fundraiser near Thanksgiving."

"That's great! How is it coming along?" Her father chimed in, with a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Everybody else had stopped eating at least half an hour ago, but not him, oh no, not Cory Matthews. He wouldn't rest until he saw the mash gone.

"Good, it's coming along great, we're still looking into a place to hold the event, but..."

"Why don't you take the bakery?" Auggie suggested, taking a sip of his drink.

"Hum, I don't know, I hadn't thought about it. Could I?" Riley looks back at her mother, who's already nodding at her.

"Of course, dear! I love the idea and I'd be more than happy to help! I'm not opening on Thanksgiving's Eve anyway, I thought I'd give everyone a bigger break to be with their families. The space is all yours!"

"Wow, thanks, Mom! I'll talk to him about it first, but I don't see why we wouldn't take it." Riley cheered. This brunch was going way better than anticipated.

"Oh trust me, he will be over the moon with the news. I may not live with him anymore, but I'm still best friends with the guy and Chris can't shut up about that shelter to save his life. Though to be fair, lately he won't shut up about you either." Josh chuckled, raising a brow at her. Riley could feel her mother smirking from across the table, so she braced herself for it and, sure enough, a second later Topanga was back at it.

"Since we're on the topic, why is it you never bring Chris over?"

"Mom..."

"I'm just saying, he's quite literally the only person from college you ever talk about and we rarely ever see him!" There it was, the passive aggressive tone, the hidden meanings between the lines. It was like déjà-vu, why did she have to do this every time?

"I know what you're thinking, Mom. Don't go there. We're just friends."

"I'm just... I'm worried about you, baby." She admitted, a sorrowful look on her eyes.

"I know. You've made that pretty clear. But I'm fine, really." As if on cue, her phone buzzed. Riley looked down at the message, a breath of relief escaping her "It's Chris. He's downstairs, so... hum, I guess I'll see you guys later. Thanks for the brunch, it was delicious." Riley jumped from her seat, grabbing her purse by the couch and before anyone could say anything she was already at the door. She was about to leave when her gaze hovered over the calendar, reminding her yet again of what day it was. She turned around, a bittersweet smile on her face "Oh and Maya, Josh... happy anniversary."

A moment later she was outside. She flew through the doors, welcoming the cool autumn air, feeling like she could really breathe for the first time since she got out of bed. Down the steps of her parent's building Chris was waiting, resting against his car with his hands buried in his jeans, his usual smirk shinning its way to her. She didn't know how and she didn't know when, but at some point during the past two years the guy standing before her became the closest thing she had to comfort. She skipped down the steps and over to him, giving the tall man a hug he didn't hesitate on reciprocating.

"Wow, ok, someone's happy to see me!"

"You're a lifesaver. You know that, right?"

"I guess I'll take your word for it. So, what are our plans today? Red Planet Diaries reruns? Cuddle Bunnies and chill?" He mocked, earning himself an eye roll from Riley.

"Ugh, why do I ever tell you anything?" She faked frustration, chuckling along with him.

"Because we're friends and you trust me. Plus, I told you about my embarrassing kiddy ballet classes. I'd say we're even." She laughed even harder this time, that Riley Matthews genuine laugh that could quite literally end wars. Man, he loved it "Seriously though, what do you want to do?"

"Can we just drive? Go away somewhere and, I don't know, talk. I... I need to not be here today." She replied, more serious this time. He simply smiled, opening the car door for her.

"Whatever you want, little Matthews."