#i love that my character finally feels like something more than a blank board

[queerbrainrot]

to everyone who is scared of playing The Dark Urge or thinks it's just a 'murder hobo character'

don't worry, you're able to play 100% goodie-two shoes redemption Durge. It's not hard. For like 99% of time it's just you, the player, not choosing the dialogue options for succumbing to murder.

No, you won't kill Scratch or the Owlbear cub, they're perfectly safe.

There's only one unavoidable murder - there's two which are only 'unavoidable' if you approach the character (squirrel in emerald grove) and if you insist on trying to remember something (Steelclaw at Moonrise Towers).

You get Durge-specific cloak which is amazing bcs it allows you to become invisible upon killing an enemy.

Overall, Dark Urge allows your character to feel integrated into the world by having many, many unique dialogue lines from other characters (in all acts, for example: with Isobel, Oathbreaker knight, Helsik, the Chosen Ones).

Dark Urge also has Durge-specific scene for your romance options and for Astarion it has a Durge-specific break up line that can actually be just a romance scene.

Durge has adorable relationship with Jaheira and Minsc if you choose redemption path.

You learn a lot more about how the Cult of the Absolute came to be and it makes way more sense than in Tav version.

Overall, coming from someone who cannot be mean to characters in video games: I recommend The Dark Urge origin.

[meatriarchived]

not to be a complete sap at six thirty in the fuckin morning but like.

Its been a trip and a half this past what month and a half maybe since i came back to this account? After leaving it over nearly two years ago and expecting not to, especially after everything that happened last year

(can skip over stricken part ♡) ------(finishing degree, brothers dog passing from cancer, moms cancer diagnosis, helping dad be her caretaker and watching her wither over the two months of treatment, family being insufferable and unreliable and still demanding shit from her during that time, the stress of preparing for my graduation and losing her right after, my youngest cat passing)

and the last thing on my mind being trying to write. In spite of mom telling me to get back into it, it was just one of those things where i couldnt really find the push to do so. Grief for my sister twenty years ago gave me the drive to write because she used to write poetry, and grief for mom and my cat-baby had seemingly killed it this time last year.

I really wasnt expecting to come back to tumby to write when i came back here, and i expected that itd be a week before i disappeared into the ether again, but ive genuinely had so much fun this last month and a half writing and chatting over disc - which was also VERY MUCH unexpected because i really never was comfortable with using it or joining servers but im seriously so happy i finally did - with those who have gone on silly lil tangents with me over these silly lil guys on my roster. Who've made all these different lil dynamics with me, for all the boards and the affiliates and all of that.

Ive really had such a good time the last few weeks, its given me a much needed push in terms of getting out of bed yknow? Not letting grief have me in such a chokehold.

And its very much appreciated, truly, to just come on here and be silly and feel welcomed. It's something very much new in spite of being all over the rpc for years. You guys are seriously such a breath of fresh air and im very happy and very lucky i feel being able to write and talk about a game and characters i quite literally have never even played dhudsb

All that to say, ive just been feeling alot more lighter since coming back and alot of its to do with how sweet and lovely and welcoming yall have been.

Before i let myself get any Worse on the sappiness, just leaving a Thank You for yalls patience with me esp this past week tryna get my damn brain back from being lost in luggage sbdjvud vacay brainrot is still lingering but hopefully goes away soon.

Its just been very nice since returning. Yall have been more than lovely vibing with and letting me ramble about muses with near nothing to them that ive yoinked from gun to my others from near non-existant r.pcs like my remakes and trials peeps. And with my little bird.

Im a ridiculously reserved and quiet person and my anxietys got a chokehold still that makes me hesitant in reaching out / talking as often as i wish but i do feel like ive started poking out of that since joining the server. (I also often sort of. Blank out. Time passes me by very strangely and it sometimes comes with me not realizing hrs or at times literal days have passed without me registering it has. So, especially thankyou on being patient with me c;)

Thank you for the last month and a half ♡ its fuckin wild to me that its both been a month already and that its only been a month. Feels like its been simultaneously much longer and much shorter somehow.

[nanowrimo]

Four Realistic Ways to Generate Ideas For Your Novel

Coming up with ideas can be pretty hard! With November right around the corner, YWP Participant Sahasra Nistala has some practical advice for writers looking for more material!

A long time ago, I decided I wanted to write a book. So I searched up “how to come up with a novel idea” and was immediately buried under piles of plot generators, mile-long lists of prompts, and creative flow frameworks I didn’t understand. When I went to my fellow writers for help, their advice usually went something like this: sit down and write anything. You’ll start writing something good eventually. But as we Wrimos know, there’s nothing more daunting than staring at a blank page, especially with the clock ticking down to the end of the month. Plus, we’re really busy—we don’t have time to write just anything.

Years later, after three false starts and long periods of “writer’s block,” I finally came up with an idea I couldn’t imagine letting go of. Here are some tried-and-true, realistic ways to come up with ideas for your next novel.

1. Think tropes. Write down a list of your favorite tropes and think of ways you can make them fresh and interesting. What if the Chosen One had overprotective parents and a bunch of jealous siblings? What if the person organizing the gala was actually in on the big heist? When you’re finished with your list, take whichever ones seem interesting and find a way to connect them.   2. Brainstorm elements. In a notebook, doc, or something else you won’t lose, write down a list of random elements and scenes you want in your novel. Want your MC to have an epic battle at sunset with their hair billowing in the wind? Write it down. Want your MC’s hoodie to be green? Write it down! Don’t worry about connecting these things to your decided trope—you can do that later. For now, just write down things you’d love to see in a novel and make sure to include them in yours.

3. Record things your way. When I first started to write for fun, lots of people told me to get a diary and write everything from my feelings to my “observations.” That way, I would have an endless supply of ideas whenever I wanted. Needless to say, I didn’t keep it up for very long. Things got better when I stopped trying to write daily entries and switched to something that was satisfying to create — comics! With two years of my life laid out in a simple narrative, it became easier for me to notice the differences in people’s habits and personalities. This inspired some characters. For the rest of Preptober, try recording your life in different ways, from voice memos to full-on essays analyzing your family members’ choice of breakfast. Trust me, you’ll find something that works for you. 4. Expand as much as possible. Once you begin to get a general idea of where you want to go, expand on that as much as possible. If you’re a pantster, that might mean creating a Pinterest board or playlist to match your novel-to-be’s atmosphere. If you’re a plotter, you might want to think of major plot points that incorporate the scenes you already have in mind. 

Doing these four things really helped me come up with a great idea I’m definitely going to write come November (okay, maybe I’ve already written a little!). There is no cure for writer’s block, but having an idea before you start writing definitely helps. Good luck and have a great rest of Preptober!

Sahasra Nistala is a sophomore in high school. Her interests include writing (isn’t that crazy?), speech and debate, incessantly sampling new books in hopes of finding the perfect one, and making comics. During NaNoWriMo, you can find her fiddling around with title generators, filling entire pages with just dialogue, or doodling in her notebook. Photo by Mika Baumeister on Unsplash

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Monday

Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Pairing: SBI x sister!reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: swearing, toxic friends, panic spirals/attacks, injury, taking pills for pain

Summary: you have a very bad week, how will you manage? (Characters are fully human, but based on their DSMP characters. High school AU)

Word count: 4,818

(A/N): I’ve never played volleyball or watched Haikyuu before, so I’m not 100% certain how games work. Also, I probs should’ve split this into two parts, but eh.

“(Y/n) love, you look homeless in that sweater, it’s literally so fucking ugly.”

“Haha, yeah it is. I guess I just wasn’t really trying today.”

Adrian snorted, scanning your body with his cold eyes. “Today? You don’t try at all. You always look like trash.”

“More than trash, you always look like you just rolled in dog shit.” Sammy threw her head back and cackled at her own joke.

Your friends around you erupted in laughter as you four walked down the hallways of the hell that was your public high school. You awkwardly chuckled alongside them, you didn’t really find it funny, but you didn’t want to draw more attention towards yourself. 

“Seriously, (y/n), I really don’t know why we still hang out around you anymore. You really let yourself go.”

“Yeah, now that I think about it, you did gain like five pounds in the past week.”

“Really not a good look on you, love. Then again, nothing you do can make you look good anymore.”

You tried to not let their comments get to you, you really did, but sometimes their comments just rooted themselves deep into your subconscious. You didn’t try looking good anymore, you couldn’t wear anything without them criticising it. You could never win. 

“Awe,” Adrien poked your cheeks, “stop looking so sad. We’re just trying to give you advice. You really need it.”

“Yeah, (y/n). You’re so sensitive, get a grip.”

“Guys look, I think she’s gonna cry!” 

You wiped at your welling eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. “I’m not. I just got allergies.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. Anyways, what are our plans for Halloween? We should totally dress up like sexy angels! I think that’d be so cool. Like, Clint’s party won’t be ready for us.”

“Oh, about that Annie…”

“God, what now (y/n)?”

“I was actually planning on spending Halloween night taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating with my brothers and dad. I won’t be able to go with you guys, I’m sorry.”

The group groaned loudly. “C’mon (y/n), you never hang out with us anymore.”

“Oh my god (y/n) you still go trick-or-treating? We’re juniors.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy with my AP classes and studying for the SAT. My team captain’s really been pushing the team hard with volleyball practice. State finals are soon and we want first this year.”

“No matter how much studying you do, you’re gonna fail. You’re stupid, so why try? Just give up and hang out with uuussss.”

“Yeah (y/n),” Adrien looked at you suspiciously, “you’ve been ignoring us lately. I thought we were friends. Do you even wanna be friends anymore?”

You felt a flare of panic flare up in your gut. “I do! I-I just have so much going on right now. It’s starting to get hard to juggle everything.”

“We’re starting to think that you don’t like us anymore, we want our (y/n) back!” Sammy whined. The others agreed with her, making you feel guilty. You were ignoring them, it was selfish in your opinion. You supposed that you could skip out on taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating, there’ll be other years you could take them. 

“I guess I can take Tommy and Tubbo another year. They’d just have to go without me this year.”

They cheered, giving you praise. You beamed at that, they seemed down lately and you loved it when they’d give you compliments. They didn’t do that much, so that made their praise more special to you. You strived to get compliments.

You four went off to your separate first classes for the day. Yours was statistics, a class you’ve been struggling in lately. You didn’t know anybody in there except for your oldest brother Techno, so you tried to stick with him. Unfortunately, the teacher’s seating chart placed you both on opposite ends of the room, probably because of your last names indicating that you’re siblings. You placed your stuff down on the table and plopped down into your seat, already drained. You had a long day ahead of you; you had a major AP world history test in your next class, you had to give a presentation in your AP english class that was worth a quarter of your final grade, and you had a semifinals volleyball match that would last until late in the night. If your team won, you would be going to state finals, so it was a lot of pressure on your shoulders. You were the main setter, so you had to really focus tonight if you were going to score your team points. 

“Alright class, pull out your homework!”

Fuck, you had homework? You looked in your folder, only to see the unfinished sheet full of equations you didn’t understand staring back at you tauntingly. Mr. Mullins walked over to your desk, took one look at your blank homework, and just walked right past you. Another big fat zero in the gradebook for you, just what you needed. At least he wasn’t in the mood to berate you today. You didn’t need any more stress piled onto your shoulders. 

The lesson felt like it dragged on forever with you frantically trying to copy down the notes on the board and trying to understand the content at the same time. Overtime, he would call students up to the board. Hopefully, he would skip over you today. “Ms. Minecraft.” Goddamn it, you spoke too soon.

Your head perked up and you looked at him. “Yes sir?”

“Come up to the board and solve this.”

Gulping, you felt panic rise up in you and stood up with shaky knees. On the board was part of the newer content he was just teaching. Something that you understood only a little bit better than the rest, and that’s not saying much. You still didn’t understand the content completely. Your writing was shaky as you wrote what you thought was right on the board. Finding the answer, you circled it and looked at Mr. Mullins. He looked disappointed. 

“That’s wrong, Ms. Minecraft. Please sit down.”

You felt like your face was on fire as you saw the entire class burning holes into you with their eyes. Though they looked dead inside, as per usual with any morning class full of tired teenagers, their effects still took hold on you. You wanted to crawl into a dark hole and die. You sat back down and stared at your note packet, you couldn’t focus on the lecture anymore. Your attention was fully on your surroundings, you were hyper aware of every little whisper and bouncing leg in your peripheral vision. You could feel yourself spiraling, usually that wouldn’t happen until after your third class. Today was going to be rough. 

The loud chime of the bell startled you out of your thoughts. You shakily put your papers back into your binder and put the binder back into your backpack. Right as you were about to walk through the door, you heard Techno catch up to you. “Hey, you good?”

“Yeah Tech, I’m just peachy.”

“Are you su-”

“Technoblade. I’m fine. Now if you excuse me, I have to get to my next class. I have an important presentation I’ve gotta prepare for.”

Without giving him any room to argue, you rushed off to your english class. You had Adrian and Annie in your class. For your presentation, you were paired up with people that you hardly knew. At least they did their part in the project, you were certain you were going to die if you got paired up with Adrian and Annie again. You loved them, but they never did any part of their portion of work. They left it to you to finish at midnight the day the project was due. To be fair, they both told you they had family emergencies, so you covered for them just that once. 

You pulled out your flashcards only to have them knocked out of your hand when someone bumped into you. You quickly crouched to pick them up so you could have them in order by time class started. “Oops, sorry love.”

It was Annie. She and Adrian towered over your crouched form smirking at you. Looking back down to rearrange your cards, you murmured “it’s ok.”

“Are you ready for this presentation, I know I am.”

You smiled a little. “Actually, I think I’m going to ace this. English is my best subject.”

“Yeah (y/n), I wasn’t asking you. I was talking to Annie. Besides, you’re probably going to fail this.” Adrian scoffed. 

“Thank you for asking, Adrian,” Annie shot a pointed look at you, “at least someone cares.”

The bell rang, signifying the start of your second block. You felt like you had a lump in your throat blocking your breathing. If Adrian, one of the smartest kids in your english class, said that you were going to fail, then you probably were going to fail. That would take a huge hit on your grade, this project was worth a quarter of your final grade after all. You were zoned out for the entirety of your classmate’s presentations putting yourself into a spiral. You jumped when Mr. Todd, your teacher, called your group up to present.

You stood stiffly in the middle of your two groupmates and clutched your flashcards with clammy hands. Luckily, your part of the presentation was not first. When it came to your part, you were stuttering and tumbling over your words. You even dropped your flashcards in front of everybody, causing half the class to snicker. Your face burned as you hurried to pick them up and your other groupmate took this as a signal to continue the presentation. You still had an important point to make that was integral for the set up to your other groupmate’s part of her presentation. You stared at your flashcards for the rest of the presentation. 

When the bell rang, you made a mad dash out of the classroom. You didn’t want to talk to anybody, especially not Adrian or Annie. It was a relief that you had your lunch period at the moment. You could hide yourself in the bathroom nobody used and let your panic attack ride itself out. 

You ducked inside a stall and sat on the toilet, bringing your knees up to bury your face in them. The tears and panic you were holding in all day let itself out with explosive effects. You started to hyperventilate as you muffled your sobs with your knee. Your chest painfully clenched so you couldn’t breathe. Your limbs felt like they weighed two tons each and they were shaking intensely. You didn’t hear the end of the lunch bell ring. By the time you calmed down slightly, you were five minutes late to AP world history. 

You packed your stuff up in a hurry, power walking through the halls. You probably looked like shit, but you didn’t care, you had a class to get to and a test that you probably wouldn’t be able to finish now. You lost ten minutes of your test time. When you tried to open the closed door, you found that it was locked. You had to knock if you wanted to get in. You raised a shaking hand to knock, but the door was opened by a less-than-impressed Ms. Osborne. She ushered you to your desk and gave you your unit test. 

You couldn’t focus. The multiple choice section was usually a breeze to you, but you couldn’t comprehend any of the questions. When you could comprehend them, you couldn’t concentrate on choosing an answer. You did your best to find the correct answers, but you were almost positive that at least half of them were wrong. Your handwriting was nearly incomprehensible and your essay topic was something you didn’t study for. When you were done with half of the body paragraphs, the bell rang and you had to turn in your unfinished test. 

You had your independent online psychology course next in the library. You usually worked alone secluded in a corner deep inside the library where nobody went. You would get some solace in being alone. Maybe you’d calm down enough so that you could ride home with your brothers and not go for a long walk so you could avoid them. 

You settled down in the comfortable chair and pulled out your laptop to get started. Psychology was your favorite class. It was easy for you to understand, it didn’t have much of a workload attached to it, and it was fun to learn about. It always calmed you down reading about the intricate workings of the brain. 

By time the day was over, you got most of your psychology work done and you were on your way to the car you shared with Technoblade and Wilbur. You took out your spare keys and slumped against the window in the backseat. You were absolutely drained after your terrible day and you still felt panic swirling deep within you, waiting for the right moment to strike. 

You stretched out your legs across the seat and leaned your back against the door. For the first time that day, you felt peaceful. You still had at least fifteen minutes to yourself until your brothers would start to make your way to the car. You felt the panic subside slightly and you fully relaxed. You closed your eyes and let yourself drift off into a light sleep. You needed your energy for tonight’s match. 

The door you were leaning on swung open and you tumbled backwards smacking the back of your head against the metal frame of the car and reverse scorpioning onto the pavement. Your entire upper back and the back of your head exploded in pain and your lower back hurt slightly from having your back bent uncomfortably. You heard laughter above you as you felt tears of pain start to slip out of your eyes. Your legs swung out from their place above your face and landed on the ground with a painful thump. 

You saw three blurry figures above you laughing at your pain. You reached up with a shaky hand to wipe at your tears and saw Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. They were cackling as you shakily stood up and sat on the comfortable seats of the car. You waited patiently for them to calm down. 

Eventually, Sammy calmed down enough to explain what happened to you through chuckles. “I’m sorry (y/n), it was just too good to resist. You should’ve seen your face.”

She and the others broke back into uncontrolled laughter as they remembered your embarrassing fall. You were used to their antics, and quite frankly it felt good to make your friends laugh, even if it were at your own expense. Just as they were calming down once again, you saw Wilbur and Techno walk out the front doors of the school laughing at something the other said. Annie and Sammy heard their laughter and quickly turned around to watch them. They had massive crushes on both of your brothers, many in the school did. 

Your brothers made their way to your shared car and stopped to look at you in slight confusion. “(Y/n), were you crying? What happened?” Wilbur asked worriedly. 

“Yea-”

“Oh Wilbur, it was terrible, (y/n) fell out of the car. I don’t think she closed the door before she leaned on it.” Annie interrupted you with a faked concerned tone, a complete contradiction to her reaction before your brothers came.

Techno hastily made his way to the driver’s side door. “Well, if she’s hurt we better get going, right Wilbur?”

“Yes! We better get going, please excuse us.” He sat in the passenger seat and closed the door without hearing Sammy and Annie’s desperate attempts to stop them so they could talk to them. Your brothers thought Sammy and Annie were annoying. They absolutely hated being around them. 

Waving apologetically at your friends, you pulled yourself into the car and closed the door. Annie and Sammy looked offended that you had let Wilbur and Techno get away from them. Avoiding their eyes, you looked down at your tightly clasped hands. They were shaking slightly. 

After pulling out of the parking lot, Techno glanced at you from the rearview mirror. “You ok (y/n)?”

“Yeah, my back just hurts and I have a headache.”

“Well, do you wanna go and get some ice cream? We still have some time left before we have to pick up Tommy and Tubbo. Dad doesn’t have to know,” Wilbur asked you.

You sighed, you wanted nothing other than to take a nap before your match. “Sorry, but I need to watch what I eat today. We have semifinals tonight and I can’t have anything sugary. I just wanna go home and take a nap.”

Your brothers were quiet for the rest of the car ride until you reached your driveway. Techno twisted his body around in his seat to look at you after he put the car in park. “Did you actually fall out of the car?”

Shit, should you tell him the truth? If you did, they would almost certainly get mad at your friends. Sammy and Annie would never forgive you if you turned your brothers against them. You decided that you would take one for the team again. “Yeah, I wasn’t paying attention.” 

Techno snorted. “Well, that was stupid,” he jokingly said. “Next time you’re gonna get run over by a parked car.”

You knew that he meant that as a joke, but it still stung. Stamping your emotions down, you laughed with him and Wilbur. It was stupid of you to do, you shouldn’t have let your guard down if you weren’t at home. 

You winced as you slung your bag on your back and walked the best you could back into your house. Your upper back was killing you. You made a beeline to the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet looking for some pain relief pills. You took some and shambled off to your room to take your well earned nap. You set your alarm’s setting to its loudest volume and passed out. 

You jolted up and gasped when you felt a wave of pain hit your upper back. You blearily looked at the time. You had a little under two hours before you had to get back to the school for your match. You groaned when you pulled yourself up, your head pounding with every turn. You pulled yourself out of bed and once again took some pain pills. You went downstairs to grab an apple or something to eat. Your dad was at the stove stirring something around in a pot. 

He turned to look at you with an excited smile. “You ready for your match tonight? You’re gonna kill it!” 

You only nodded halfheartedly and plopped yourself down at the table with your apple. Philza frowned at your lack of enthusiasm, but he figured that it was just because you just woke up from a nap. You’d bounce back eventually. 

“Wilbur told me that you fell out of the car? How’d you do that?”

You shrugged, wincing slightly as it moved your back slightly. “Dunno, must’ve not closed the door.”

Philza was at your side in a hurry, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “Did you get hurt? Show me where it hurts.”

“My back and the back of my head.”

“Can I move your shirt so I could look?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

You felt him gently pull the neck of your t-shirt away from your body to peek at your back. You heard his breath hitch as he looked. Was it that bad? “Good god (y/n),” he breathed out.

“What, is it bad?”

“Don’t you feel how bad it is? Your entire back is bruised. I think there’s some blood too.”

“Damn.”

“First, language. Second, that’s all you have to say? Aren’t you in pain?”

“Yeah, but the pain pills are gonna kick in soon. I’ll be fine.”

“Would you be able to play tonight? I really think you should sit this one out.”

“No, I’m playing tonight Dad.”

“(Y/n),” oh no, he was using his stern dad voice. “It’s not a good idea to play tonight. You’re hurt, I’m sure they’ll understand if you sit this one out.”

You felt frustration rise up in you. “We’re in the semifinals. They need me, I’m the main setter. They’d lose without me playing.”

“(Y/n), I’m serious. You’re not playing today.”

“Dad, I am playing today. Look, I’ll talk to Coach Williams to see if I could be rotated out more often. I know she’d let me.”

He stared at you for a while before sighing. He knew there was no convincing you. “...Fine. But you better talk to Coach Williams about sitting out for a bit if your back hurts too much or I swear I’ll drag you off the court myself.”

You smiled a little at the small victory. “Thank you! I promise I’ll sit out if needed.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “If needed?”

You sighed, “when needed.”

He walked over to the pot, stirring the contents slightly. “That’s better. Dinner’s almost ready, I made some pasta.”

“It smells good, but I think I’m skipping out on it for today. I already ate this apple and if I eat any more I’ll probably hurl on the court.”

He made a displeased noise in the back of his throat, “fine, but you’re eating something when we get home tonight.”

He walked off to go get your brothers and Tubbo for dinner. You could hear their booming steps racing down the stairs towards the kitchen. They raced into the kitchen and almost crashed into the back of your chair. You stood up and looked at the two excitable fifth graders. “Careful boys, don’t want you getting hurt.”

“You’re no fun (y/n),” Tommy whined.

“Sure, sorry bout that,” Tubbo beamed at you.

You chuckled, making your way upstairs to get ready for your match. You took off your clothes with great difficulty and slipped on your jersey and your spandex shorts. They were way too short for your tastes, but you couldn’t wear longer ones, they’d just get in the way. You fondly remembered how your dad flipped out when he first saw you in them, he hated them with a burning passion. He still hates how short they are.

When you were struggling with pulling your hair back into a tight, sleek ponytail, the back of your head throbbed continuously with pain. You most likely bruised your scalp. 

You slipped on your shoes that were made specifically for playing volleyball and headed downstairs. You were met with Tommy and Tubbo jumping in excitement seeing you in your uniform. They loved going to your matches, even if they would always pass out in the car after them because matches usually ended late at night. You grabbed your dad’s keys and headed to his car. Before you could lead the boys out the door, Philza’s voice stopped you.

“(Y/n), coat.”

You huffed, grabbing your coat and putting it on before tossing him his keys. You four got into the car and set out for the high school. The short drive was filled with Tommy and Tubbo asking you questions about volleyball and encouraging you. “(Y/n), you’re gonna kick their butts!”

“Yeah!” Tubbo cheered 

Despite their voices causing a spike of pain to shoot throughout your head, you laughed at their enthusiasm. It was always nice to hear your little brother and pseudo brother in the stands cheering you on, they were your and your team’s personal cheerleaders. 

Not long after you got to the school, you were stretching with your team on the gym’s floor. Your posse found their way into the stands, sitting in the front row. The away team watched your team like a hawk, analysing every single player for any weakness. It was because of them that you tried to not show any pain when you moved your back. You talked to Coach Williams before the team stretch and she was obviously sympathetic with your situation. She agreed to switching you out with the standby setter every few rotations. 

The echo of the whistles caused pain to ring in your head every time someone scored or a foul was called. Your team captain, Haley, was constantly, yet discreetly checking on you throughout the game since she was always next to you. She was the team’s main spiker after all. 

The game droned on and on before you realized that the opposing team was targeting you when they were offensive. They probably realized that you were injured a round ago. You tried your best to block every ball that was sent your way, but a few managed to slip past you when you couldn’t move fast enough. This team was good, but your team was better. 

The score during the final round was tied and the clock was on it’s last ten seconds as the ball soared your way. You dove to hit it, landing on your shoulder on the hard floor and hitting it up high enough for Haley to spike the ball down. The crowd went wild as the ball bounced off from the opposite end of the court almost simultaneously with the screeching of the referee’s whistle, signifying the end of the game and your team’s victory.

You laid on the floor in pain, you thought you must’ve pulled your tender muscles in your back and shoulder. It hurt to move it. You felt one of your teammates grab your hand to yank you up into a giant full team group hug. You yelped slightly in pain as you felt arms press against your back and hands firmly patting your bruised shoulders. You were whisked away into the locker room to change into the pajamas you brought with you. 

“(Y/n), are you alright? That was a pretty hard fall.” Haley’s soft voice asked you. You felt your heart sing in your chest. 

“Yeah Hales, I’m fine. I just pulled a few muscles.”

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed together, “are you sure? As your team captain and your friend, I’m worried about you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You felt warm knowing that she cared about you. “I’m sure, worrywart.”

She rolled her eyes playfully and breathed out a soft laugh. “Sorry for asking, grump.” Her laugh sounded like music to your ears. 

Your phone vibrated in your pajama pocket, alerting you of your family waiting for you in the car and for you to hurry up. You sighed, “sorry Hales, I gotta go. Dad’s getting impatient.” 

She gave you a small smile. “Oh, well, tell your family I said hi! Good work on the court today, I wouldn’t ask for a different setter.”

You felt your cheeks warm up and you watched with wide eyes as she left the locker room. Your phone vibrated again, your dad was really starting to get impatient. 

You walked out of the school as fast as you could to find your dad’s car waiting for you up front. Jumping in and softly closing the passenger side door, you slumped against the window. “(Y/n),” Tommy’s tired voice slurred. “That. Was. Pog…”

You glanced back to see him and Tubbo snoring away in their seats. Your match was more exciting than usual, so that must’ve really tired them out. You chuckled, turning back around to lean against the window. You took care not to put any weight on your shoulder or back. 

“(Y/n), you were amazing out there, but why did you dive for that ball? That fall looked like it hurt.”

You hummed tiredly, “thanks Dad. I just did what I thought would win us the game. We’re going to finals!” You quietly sang. 

“Did you hurt your shoulder?”

“I actually don’t know, but I think I might’ve pulled a few muscles. Nothing too bad.”

“...I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for you tomorrow morning during your first and second blocks. I want you to get your back, shoulder, and head looked at. You looked miserable the entire match.”

You sighed, too tired to argue, “mmk.”

He chuckled before the car fell into a comfortable silence. The gentle bouncing of the car and the subtle hum of the engine was lulling you to sleep. Your eyelids were drooping by the time you pulled into your driveway. 

You drug yourself out of the car and into the house, leaving Philza with the sleeping boys. You walked straight to your room and plopped down on your bed, passing out instantly for the second time that day.

Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

[serendipitous-magic]

What is your writing advice for young people who want to write fanfiction and original stories in the near future?

If this is just Way Too Much, skip to the end (#16). My most important piece of advice is there. I also happen to think #5 is pretty good.

-_-_-_-

1) Literally just write. Write whatever you want, and do a lot of it.

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2) You don’t have to post everything. In fact you don’t have to post anything. You can, don’t get me wrong, but it can be intimidating to sit down and think “I will now write something that other people will see and read and judge with their eyeballs.” Because that’s probably gonna lead to nerves and writer's block. Just write down the ideas that you have, the things you want to write, whatever’s in your brain that you want to explore and expand upon and make into something. And then if you want to, share it. Or don’t share it. I have plenty of half-baked ideas and documents and random story chapters and shit hidden away on my Google Drive that will never see the light of day, for a whole number of reasons. I wanted to write it but it wasn’t ~Spicy~ enough to warrant posting, or it’s only like an eighth of a good idea, or it’s like one scene with no story around it, or it’s just something incredibly self-indulgent I just wanted to write for my own enjoyment.

Point being, don’t write for other people. Don’t write so that other people can read it; write what you want, write for yourself, and then if you want to share it, do.

_-_

3) You can pretty much ignore any and all of these for fanfiction. In fact, you can ignore pretty much any rules or guidelines you want for fanfiction. Fanfic is a sandbox. You don’t have to be a “professional writer” to post fic. No one expects you to be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood. Fanfic is just for playing in a fandom and having fun. If you wanna write a 50 chapter slow burn with very little plot aside from the OTP slowly getting to know each other, and no real stakes or central conflict, I guarantee people would read that. Really, fanfiction is the Old West of writing: lawless, wild, unpredictable, and free.

However, here are the rules you must follow:

-Separate your paragraphs. (I’m sure you know this already, but I’m gonna say it anyway just in case.) Do not post one big block of text. Make a paragraph break when someone new is talking, when the characters are in a new place, when a new event occurs that changes the scene, when a chunk of time has passed, and when there’s a major change in subject.

-I know it’s obvious, but... grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. They exist to make writing easy for readers to read, and more people will read your stuff if they don’t have to stop and try to figure out what you meant.

-Use tags and labels, as is possible with whatever site you’re using. Especially if you include possibly triggering content in your story. Again, I know it’s obvious, but it’s common courtesy. Bonus: tagging the themes and content of your story helps readers find it and read it :)

-If possible, limit the use of all-caps and exclamation marks / question marks. 99% of the time, one ! or one ? will do. If you overload the page with a lot of all-caps and long rows of exclamation marks or question marks, it hampers readability.

... That’s literally all I can think of. And, like I said, it’s all pretty basic stuff. You were probably rolling your eyes like, “Uh, yeah, Gwen, I know.” But that’s literally it. You can pretty much do whatever you want in fanfic.

That being said, here’s my advice for both fanfiction and original work...

_-_

4) A quick and dirty rule for coming up with a plot, starting a story, keeping up pacing, or maintaining tension: figure out what dreams, desires, and goals are nearest and dearest to your main character’s heart (see #16). Then set up the main conflict to be directly in opposition to that goal. It doesn’t have to be in a tangible way, though it could be. But, if your main character wants more than anything to reach the ships on the southern coast of your world and sail to a new life, make sure the main conflict immediately prevents them from doing that - in fact, make sure to send them north. If your main character just wants to keep their loved ones safe, kidnap the loved ones. If your main character just wants to date their best-friend-turned-crush, make sure they think they have no chance - or, make them cocky about it, and make sure it makes Person B determined not to ever like them. You get it. Figure out what your character most wants, and then keep them from having that. Boom - your conflict now ties in with your character's motivation. It's like instant yeast for plots.

_-_

5) If you’re anything like me, you want your first draft to be Good, despite all that advice about how the first draft doesn’t have to be good and it’s just to get words on the page, yadda yadda. And if you’re somewhat of a perfectionist (like myself), it’s easy to get stuck looking at a blank page because you don’t have The Perfect Words, and you want what you write to be Good the first time.

Here’s how I cheat that:

Instead of trying to write a Good First Draft from a blank page, hit the enter key a few times, skip a little down on the page, change your ink to red (or blue, or whatever - just something immediately identifiable as Not Black) and just thought vomit. Write whatever the hell you’re thinking, exactly as you think it. Don’t worry about it being readable, don’t worry about narrative flow for now, don’t worry about covering all the details, don’t worry about anything except either a) getting all the details of your idea out onto the page, whether that’s a lot or whether it’s just a sentence or two, or b) if you don’t have an idea yet, finding your way there.

Because this method is also very good for finding your way to ideas when you’re stuck in writer’s block.

Because of how human brains work, getting this stuff out onto the page - in all its messy, stream-of-consciousness glory - will likely spark more thoughts. As you write your original idea about the scene, it’ll likely spark more ideas. Creation begets creation. If you just start thought-vomiting your ideas onto the page, chances are you’ll think of more things as you go, and you’ll start filling out description or dialogue or tone or action or whatever, and pretty soon the scene starts writing itself.

Not sure where you’re going with the scene or which ideas you wanna use? Use a lot of ambivalent language in your “thought-vomit draft.” My pre-writing notes are chock-full of the words “maybe,” “perhaps,” and the phrases, “At some point...” and “...or something like that.” In this way, I don’t tie myself down to one idea; it’s just an idea, and I’m keeping it on the page in case I use it, but I might chuck it in the trash or change it or whatever.

And then, once your ideas for the scene (or story, or chapter, or whatever) are on the page, then go back to the top and start translating them into a “real” first draft. Use black ink, and start copy-pasting chunks of the thought-vomit up into the top part of the document and translating them into Draft 1. Separate out paragraphs where paragraph breaks should be. Add the correct punctuation and whatnot. Change “describe the lobby here - include potted plants, fancy carpet, blood stain, etc.” into an actual description of the lobby. Flesh it out, or condense, or whatever it needs. And if you’re still stuck, change back to red ink and ramble some more until you find a path that feels right, then plug that in. This keeps you from looking at a blank page, and it allows you to generate a kind of Draft 0.5, somewhere between a plan and a first draft.

You don’t have to use every idea. Like I said, jot down whatever comes to mind, put a “maybe” before or after it, and keep working. If the idea grabs you and you wanna keep expanding on it and exploring it, cool. If you just wanna jot it down so you don’t forget it and then move on, also cool. Red-ink draft / “thought-vomit draft” is your time to jump around in the timeline, add or finesse details at whatever point your brain moves to, etc. Don’t try to do it exactly in story order, because you will get tangential thoughts and ideas, and you will not remember to write them down five pages later when you finally get to taking notes on that scene. Trust me. On that note...

_-_

6) Write everything down the moment you think of it. Seriously.

“I’ll remember it when I get around to writing that scene in a couple days / weeks / months (/years).”

You won’t.

Write it down.

Phone, journal, google docs - hell, my family regularly laughs at me for grabbing a napkin during dinner and scribbling thoughts down alongside pasta sauce stains.

And then, once you have it written down somewhere...

_-_

7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.

Maybe this isn’t really your style, and that’s totally chill.

Buuuut, if you’re Type-A like me - or if you tend to be somewhat unorganized and you know you’ll lose track of your writing notes if they’re scattered across multiple notebooks, journals, napkins, phone notes, etc. - having one consolidated document of notes is a life saver. I keep mine on Google Docs so I can access it, add to it, and look through it for inspiration anywhere at any time. When I have one of those Shower Thoughts that I jot down on my phone or on a napkin during dinner, I set myself a reminder on my phone to type it up in my Story Ideas document later.

(Or, if the idea I had was for a story of mine that I’ve already started planning / drafting / whatever, I put it in the document for that story instead of the Big Random Story Ideas doc. You get it.)

_-_

8) Have other ways to collect and save writing ideas, besides just writing stuff down. If you like Pinterest, make pinterest boards of your characters or stories or settings or whatever. If you’re big into playlists, make a playlist for your character / setting / story / etc. Or both. Or something else. I’m not good at drawing, but maybe you are, and maybe you like to draw your ideas. Whatever form it takes, having another way to save ideas and think about your stories is invaluable.

_-_

9) Some writers can just start writing with no idea where the story is going, and they just kind of figure it out as they go. I envy those writers. And I do that sometimes for fanfiction, where the stakes are somewhat lower and the audience is reading more for scene-to-scene enjoyment (and to see their OTP kiss) than for a Driving And Compelling Narrative.

But here’s the thing: especially if you’re just kind of starting out, writing without some sort of plan is really, really hard, and will likely lead you into a slow, meandering narrative that will likely frustrate you.

Even if you think you’re someone that just can’t write with a plan (and again, I have the highest respect for pansters out there - I don’t know how you do it, you crazy bastards, but you keep doing you) - even if you think “I can’t work with plans, they’re too prescriptive, I just want to write and see what happens -”

Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.

Even if you have no clue what 90% of the story is, yet. That’s fine. But you need to have some idea of what you’re building to, even if that’s nothing more specific than a feeling, or a turning point for your character. Even if your entire plan for everything beyond Chapter 1 is, “At some point, Charlie needs to realize that Ed was lying to her.”

This is where those Draft 0.5 notes come in handy. Because, more than likely, working on your current scene that way will spark ideas for later scenes, which you can put down at the bottom of the document and save for when they become relevant. In my experience, the line between planning ahead and making a Draft 0.5 is exceptionally thin. One can quickly turn into the other.

If you’re really, really resistant to the idea of planning ahead, that’s okay. It’s not everybody’s style. But for the love of all that is holy, write down your ideas for future scenes, even if you’re a person that doesn’t like to plan and writes only in story order, because you will not remember that idea once you get to that scene.

_-_

10) You don’t have to write in order.

Here’s the thing: I’m a person that can only do my Draft 1 in story order (meaning, chronological order). I just have to be in that flow; I need to write in story order for me to best channel where the character is at from scene to scene, both narratively and emotionally.

But my Thought Vomit Draft is another thing entirely. By using the brain hack of putting my notes in red (or another color, it doesn’t matter) and going down to the bottom of the document / page and taking notes there, and then integrating them into whatever plan I have, and then translating them into Draft 1 once I get there in the story - by doing that, I can get my good ideas onto the page (and expound upon them and let my muse carry me and ride that momentum while I’m in the moment of inspiration) without writing out of order.

Maybe that’s just me. But if you’re a person who really prefers to write in story order, that could be hugely helpful to you. It is to me.

_-_

11) Emotion and motivation will do more for your story than technicalities of plot.

If your characters really care about something, and their journey through the (shaky or weak) plot is emotionally engaging, it will be a much more compelling story than a story with a “perfect” plot and unrelatable or unmotivated characters.

If your characters care about what they’re doing, and it means something to them, and their goals and actions are driven by dreams or fears or emotions that are integral to who they are, your audience will care too. If you have a perfectly crafted plot that hits all the right beats and has high stakes and fast pacing and drama - but your characters don’t connect with what’s happening in a way that’s deeply meaningful or emotional for them? You’re gonna have a hard time engaging readers.

When in doubt, prioritize character emotion and motivation over plot. Emotion is what drives story.

This power is highly exploitable. (Just look at pulp novels and shitty but entertaining movies.) You can even use it to glaze over plot holes or reinvigorate a limp narrative. Use it that way sparingly, though. It’s a band-aid, not a surgery. 

_-_

12) Evil villains are hard to write - mostly because there are very few truly evil people in the world. (There are a few. Billionaires and several big name politicians come to mind.) But by and large, there aren’t that many evil people. There are plenty of bad people, but bad people have some good in them, somewhere in there. Trying to write an evil villain is hard, because they often turn very cartoony.

Here’s a tip: it’s much easier to write antagonists who aren’t evil. Even if they’re bad people. Of course, there’s no reason you can’t write a villain that’s just truly evil - a serial killer, or an abuser, or a billionaire, or someone who legit just wants to hurt people or blow up the earth or stay in control of an oppressed population, or whatever. But chances are, it’s gonna be really hard to make them feel real, and even harder to create a plot around them that doesn’t feel forced or contrived.

Instead, try writing an antagonist / villain whose motivations and goals directly clash with your protagonist’s - but not because they want to take over the world or see people suffer. Write an antagonist who’s chaotic good, but whose perception of the situation is completely opposite from your hero’s. Write an antagonist whose only desire is to save people, and who will do anything to achieve that goal - anything. Write an antagonist who believes in the letter of the law, and will hinder and oppose the hero’s methods even if they agree with the hero’s motivation. Write an antagonist who got in way over their head and did some things they regret, and now they don’t know how to get out, and they’re doing their best but whatever they set in motion is too powerful for them to stop now.

Write villains who are human. Write a killer who thought they were doing the right thing by taking their victim out of the equation, who vomits at the sight of the body and sobs over the grave they dig. Write a government leader who truly believes she’s doing what’s best for her people in the long-term, even if it might hurt them in the short term, and is willing to endure the hatred and belligerence of the masses if it means securing what she thinks is a better future for her people. Write a teenage bully that thinks they’re the one being picked on by the world, and they’re just fighting back, standing their ground. Write a scientist who will break any code of ethics and hurt anyone he needs to - in order to bring back his baby sister from the grave, because he promised her he’d protect her and he failed. Write an antagonist who is selfish and self-centered and capricious - because in order to survive they had to look out for Number One, and that habit ain’t about to break anytime soon.

Write villains who aren’t even villains. Write antagonists who oppose the hero because of moral differences. Write antagonists who are trying to do the right thing. Write antagonists who treat the heroes with kindness and dignity and respect and gentleness.

They don’t have to be good. They don’t have to be Misunderstood Sweethearts who “deserve” a redemption arc. They can be cruel and nasty and dismissive and callous and violent and etc. etc.

Just hesitate before you make them Evil-with-a-capital-E. Because evil is hard to write, and honestly, boring to read. Flawed human beings with goals and motivations that directly oppose the main characters’ are much easier to write and much more interesting to read.

Ask why. Why is your villain trying to take over the world? What does that even mean? Are they trying to create a Star-Trek-like post-capitalism utopia, but they know that won’t happen in a million lifetimes, so they’re trying to do it by force? Are they actually super in favor of human rights, but they got very impatient waiting for the world to do anything about poverty and war, so they decided to take it into their own hands? Are they determined to fix the world - no matter the cost? Are they terrified and overwhelmed, but committed to see it through to the end? Or - maybe they’re just doing it on a dare. Maybe they don’t really give a shit about world domination, they were just a mediocre rich white guy who decided to fuck around and find out, and now he’s kind of curious how far he can take this thing. And now he’s kind of an internationally-wanted criminal, so he’s kind of stuck living on his hidden private island in his multi-billion dollar secret base, strapping lasers to sharks’ heads for the hell of it. Gross, selfish, uncaring, and dangerous? For sure. Evil? Depends on your definition. See, now we’re getting somewhere.

_-_

13) It’s tempting to let the plot control the characters. It’s easy to drop your characters into a situation and see how they react. But here’s the thing: that doesn’t drive plot. In fact, it bogs down pacing. Instead, try to build you plot off of your characters’ actions and decisions. Let your character build their own situation. Not to say it should go they way they wanted it to go; in fact, usually, their grand plans should go to hell very quickly. But having the characters take action and make decisions, and letting the plot develop based on that, is much easier to make compelling than making a rigid series of events and then trying to herd your characters into them.

_-_

14) Having trouble justifying a character’s actions? Consider having them make the opposite decision, or having them approach the situation in a different way. For example: you need your character to go meet the bad guy, for plot reasons, even though there’s no way it’s not a trap. If the character goes, readers are gonna be groaning with their head in their hands, because c’mon man, that was really fucking stupid. But he’s gotta go, because the plot needs that. Two ways you might handle this: a) He knows it’s probably a trap. He decides not to go. The plot conspires to get him near the villain anyway. Or, b) He knows it’s a trap. But he needs to go, for (insert reasons here). So, he approaches it in an unexpected way. He brings backup, recruiting a side character we met earlier in the story. Or he arrives on the back of a dragon, because ain’t nobody gonna fuck with a dude on a dragon. Or he goes - early, and ambushes the villain. It may work, it may not. He may get himself kidnapped anyway. But it moves the plot along without having Stupid Hero Syndrome.

_-_

15) This is a legit piece of advice: if all of this sounds overwhelming, literally just ignore it and write what you want. For real. Writing should be fun, and every single writer operates differently. If you’re sitting here like “I’m getting stressed just reading this,” just flip me a good-natured bird and get on with your life. I promise I won’t take it personally. Same goes for literally any other writing advice you see. Lots of rules and guidelines can very quickly make anything thoroughly un-fun. Just write. If you’re passionate about it and you do it for long enough, you’ll start figuring out the tips and tricks on your own.

_-_

16) Here’s the best piece of advice I can give you: know your characters. More importantly, know what’s important to them. Build their personality and decisions off of that, and build your plot off of their decisions.

I see a lot of character building sheets that ask a shit-ton of questions like “What’s their most prized possession?” “Do they like their family?” “What’s their favorite food?”

And while these are good questions, my problem with this type of character building is that if you start there, with the little stuff, you’re building on nothing. IMO, to make a truly strong character (not strong like Inner Strength, strong like effective), you need a strong foundation.

Here are the things you must know about your character:

a) What are their greatest fears / deepest insecurities? And I don’t mean “wasps” or “heights.” I mean the deep shit. I mean fears like “living a meaningless life,” or “turning out just like their parents,” or “that no one will ever love them,” or “being powerless.” You may say, “But they’re really scared of wasps! They fall into a wasp nest when they were little and got stung so much they almost died!” Great! That’s a fantastic bit of backstory. They should absolutely be afraid of wasps, and that should absolutely be an impediment later in the story. But dig deeper. What about that event actually scarred them? Was it the helplessness? Stumbling around, swatting at the air, not being able to do a single thing to stop what was happening to them? Was it that they were alone, and no matter how loud they screamed, no one was coming? Was it the bodily horror of feeling themself turn into an inhuman creature as they swelled up from the stings, unable to move their fingers or face normally anymore?

And don’t forget insecurities, because those factor in, too. Are they deeply insecure about their identity? Do they believe, deep down, that they’re ugly? Did they grow up poor and they’ve always been really touchy about that? Why? Dig deep. Figure out what really, really bothers them.

b) What are their hopes and dreams? What do they truly want out of life? What do they consider the most valuable to their experience here in this thing called life? Is it the freedom to forge their own path and be independent? Is it the approval of their family or peers? Is it a home? Is it knowledge, or understanding? Spiritual fulfillment? Is it deeply important to them that they contribute to their community, or protect those they love? What do they need in order to feel truly and deeply fulfilled in life?

Figure out those two things (each one encompasses several things, btw, you don’t have to stop at just one for each), and then use that to inform how they behave and the types of decisions they make within the story. 

It also informs character behavior and personality. 

Let’s say we have a character who’s afraid of helplessness. They’re probably gonna be the person that always wants to do something, try something, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. They’d despise just sitting and waiting, probably, because it makes them feel powerless. They might even be the person that makes rash decisions and acts impulsively and puts themself in danger unnecessarily, because in their mind it’s better than being at the mercy of fate. This is one way you could use a character’s personality to inform their decisions, which in turn helps to inform plot.

Or, let’s say we have a character whose greatest fear is being left behind or forgotten. We may have a chatterbox on our hands. They might be obnoxious. They might love the spotlight, constantly vying for attention no matter the situation, because deep down they’re so afraid that they’d be forgotten otherwise. Or, it may go the opposite way. They may be so afraid of people leaving them that they’re terrified of bothering people. They don’t want to do anything that could annoy people, anything that might give people a reason to leave them. They might be exceedingly polite, quiet, accommodating. A push-over, really.

These are two nearly opposite types of personalities, both stemming from the same core fear/insecurity. You can go a lot of different ways with it. But if you build on that strong foundation, you’ll have a strong character, and a stronger plot.

Likewise, the structure of your story can and should inform the design of these character traits. If you need your characters to team up near the end, it may be impactful if you give your main character a deep fear of commitment, an insecurity about being unwanted or left behind, and make them highly value independence and freedom. That could make their team-up for the final battle very meaningful. Conversely, you can use your character’s deepest fears and desires to help design the plot. Is your character deeply insecure about voicing their opinions or taking a stand, because of trauma they faced in the past? Make them face that. Build that into the climactic third act. Give them the big inspirational speech where they stand up and talk about what they believe to be important, what they think the group should do. And then design that character arc to run through the story, giving you more handholds and stepping stones, more pieces of foundation on which to design the plot.

In this way, character should inform story as much as story informs character. It’s a feedback loop.

Bonus: if you build your character and your plot off of each other in this way, it automatically starts to build in the foundations of that emotional investment I mentioned earlier. If your character’s decisions are based on what they most want and do not want in life, you basically have your character motivation and stakes pre-built.

Note: you need to know these things about your villain, too.

-_-_-

I’m genuinely sorry about the length of this, lmao. But you did ask.

Best of luck!

Edit: I forgot an important one:

17) Start when the scene starts and end when the scene ends.

What do I mean by that?

If your notes say “Danny asks Nicole out after school and majorly flubs it,” start the scene when Danny approaches Nicole after school. Better yet, cold-open the scene on “I was wondering if, you know, you’d wanna. You know. Hang out some time?”

Don’t start that morning when Danny goes to school, unless you’re gonna cover the school day in like one or two sentences. Don’t spend whole paragraphs going through the school day, unless it’s to cover other plot points first (in which case apply these same guidelines there), or if the paragraphs are there for a specific reason, like to illustrate how stressed he is and how it seems like every little thing is going wrong. Even then, trim the fat as much as possible. Expounding and describing everything Moment-to-moment is for the meat of the scenes, not the leading-up-to and coming-away-from.

Here’s my rule of thumb: study how and when movies cut from scene to scene. Movies have exceptionally strict, limited time for storytelling; they’re excellent examples of starting a scene when the plot point starts and ending when it’s over. If you can’t picture a movie showing everything you showed, start the scene later and end it earlier.

[lokiondisneyplus]

Yes, Loki series director Kate Herron knows about your fan theory about the show, the analysis you posted to social media. No, she won’t tell you what she thinks about it, or whether you were right.

“I follow all the conversations on Twitter,” Herron told Polygon in an interview shortly after Loki’s season 1 finale. “I don’t always weigh in on them, because I made the show, so they don’t want me weighing in like, ‘Actually, guys…’ I think that’s the whole point of art — it should be up for debate and discussion.”

[Ed. note: Spoilers ahead for season 1 of Loki.]

Loki has been a hit for streaming service Disney Plus — episode 6 of the show, the final installment for this season, was reportedly watched by more households than any of the platform’s MCU finales to date. The series has been a popular source of fan conjecture and argument, with one particularly big rolling conversation focusing on whether the budding romantic relationship between trickster Asgardian Loki (Tom Hiddleston) and his alternate-universe counterpart Sylvie (Sophia Di Martino) is a form of incest.

Herron is willing to speak up about that one. “My interpretation of it is that they’re both Lokis, but they aren’t the same person,” she says. “I don’t see them as being like brother and sister. They have completely different backgrounds […] and I think that’s really important to her character. They sort of have the same role in terms of the universe and destiny, but they won’t make the same decisions.”

Herron says thematically, Loki falling for Sylvie is an exploration of “self-love,” but only in the sense that it’s Loki learning to understand his own motives and integrity. “[The show is] looking at the self and asking ‘What makes us us?’” Herron says. “I mean, look at all the Lokis across the show, they’re all completely different. I think there’s something beautiful about his romantic relationship with Sylvie, but they’re not interchangeable.”

Directing the final kiss between the two characters was a complicated process because it had to communicate something about each of them over the course of just a few seconds. Herron says the primary goal was creating a safe, comfortable environment for Hiddleston and Di Martino, and after that, she had to think about how to bring across Loki and Sylvie’s conflicting goals in that moment.

“It’s an interesting one, right?” she says. “Emotionally, from Sylvie’s perspective, I think it’s a goodbye. But it’s still a buildup of all these feelings. They’ve both grown through each other over the last few episodes. It was important to me that it didn’t feel like a trick, like she was deceiving him. She is obviously doing that, on one hand, but I don’t feel the kiss is any less genuine. I think she’s in a bad place, but her feelings are true.”

Herron says directing Hiddleston in the scene mostly came down to discussing the speech Loki gives Sylvie before the kiss. “That was really important, showing this new place for Loki,” Herron says. “In the first episode, he’s like, ‘I want the throne, I want to rule,’ and by episode 6, he isn’t focused on that selfish want. He just wants her to be okay.”

Loki writer and producer Eric Martin recently tweeted that he wished the show had been able to focus more time on two of its secondary characters, Owen Wilson’s Time Variance Authority agent Mobius M. Mobius, and Gugu Mbatha-Raw’s Ravonna Renslayer. “I wanted to explore her more deeply and really see their relationship,” he says, “But covid got in the way and we just didn’t have time.”

Asked if Loki and Sylvie’s relationship suffered from similar necessary edits, Herron says it’s true that the show’s creators and audience still don’t know everything Sylvie went through to make her so different from the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s original version of Loki. “We’ve seen her as a child, but she’s lived for thousands and thousands of years, in apocalypses on the run,” she says. “I think there’s so much more to delve into with Sylvie […] You’re filling in the blanks. You see [her on the planet] Lamentis, and it’s horrific. And you’re like, “Well, what kind of person would she be, growing up in apocalypses? What kind of personality would that give her?”

Herron says Sylvie’s backstory actually reminds her of the 1995 movie Jumanji, where a young boy is sucked into a magical board game in 1969, and emerges 26 years later as a full-grown man, played by with typical manic energy by Robin Williams. “It’s such a weird reference, but…” she says. “He’s a little boy when he ends up captive in that game, and when he comes out, it’s obviously been a life experience. With Sylvie, it’s similar. She was a child when she had to go on the run, so she’s had a very difficult life. I would love to see more of it. As Eric said, she’s a rich character, there’s so much to be explored.”

Herron says, though, that during her time on the show, material about Sylvie was added rather than cut — specifically, those scenes of her as a child, being kidnapped by the TVA. “This was before my time, but I know in the writers’ room, there were lots of avenues exploring Sylvie on the run and what her life was like,” Herron says. “I wouldn’t want to speak more to those, because I wasn’t there when they were being discussed. But something wasn’t in there that was important to me — I felt we should see her [history] in the TVA. Me and the team were talking about how it made complete sense, because episode 4 is all about twisting the idea that the TVA might be good on its head. And so that’s something that came in later, once I joined, was seeing her as a child. I think we needed to see that, not to understand her completely, but to get an idea of her motivations, why she’s so angry at this place.”

Talking more broadly about the series finale, Herron says the last few episodes weren’t as heavily referential as the first episodes, which she intended as “a love letter to sci-fi.” While early images like the TVA’s interrogation rooms had specific visual references from past science fiction, episode 6’s locations were drawn more from collaborations with the crew.

“The idea of the physical timeline being circular, our storyboard artists came up with that,” Herron says. “I had in the scripts, ‘We move through space to the end of time,” and then me and [storyboard artist Darrin Denlinger] discussed how we could play with the idea of time, while also adding MCU nods. He was like, ‘What if the timeline is circular?’ I think that’s such a striking image, like the Citadel at the End of Time is the needle on a record player. I just thought that was such a cool image, but it wasn’t necessarily taken from anything.”

Episode 6 focuses heavily on the mysterious figure He Who Remains and his citadel, a space she says was largely conceived by production designer Kasra Farahani. “I remember he brought in the art of the Citadel, and I thought it was beautiful,” Herron says. “He said, ‘The Citadel has been carved from an actual meteorite,’ which I thought was such an inspired idea. And He Who Remains’ office is the only finished portion of it.”

She says there are only a few direct homages in episode 6, including the zoom shot through space, which directly referenced a similar sequence in Robert Zemeckis’ 1997 film Contact.

“And then I have my Teletubbies reference for episode 5,” Herron says. “I wanted the Void to feel like an overgrown garden, like a kind of forgotten place. And I realized I’d pitched it as the British countryside. I remember trying to explain it to ILM, who did the visual effects, and saying, ‘Oh, you know, it’s like the Teletubbies. It’s just rolling hills, but they go on forever.’ That actually was quite a helpful reference in the end, which is funny.”

Asked for her favorite set memory from shooting the season, Herron says it comes down to Tom Hiddleston starting a mania for physical exertion before takes. “Sometimes he runs around set to get himself in the right mindset before he performs,” she says. “He does pushups. You know, you’re going into an action scene, you want to look like you’ve just been running. And it became infectious across all the cast. We’ve got so much footage of — I think Jack [Veal] ended up doing it, who plays Kid Loki. I’ve got [shots of] him and Sophia doing pushups and squats, just to get ready. It was so funny watching that echo across all the cast. I think all of them ended up doing those exercises with him at some point. It was so funny.”

“That might be my favorite set story, but it’s honestly, not a sweet one,” she adds. “I would say my favorite thing is his enthusiasm. He’s a very kind empathetic person. We were filming this in quite tough circumstances, a lot of people were far from home and isolating, and he brought this warmth and energy and joy to the set every day. And I think that made everyone feel very safe and very bonded. I’m forever grateful to him for doing that.”

[wrathandgreed]

A crafty MC making goodbye gifts for the demon bros (unromanced and romanced).

Word count: 3.5k

Notes: I’m a huge crafter (knitter, crocheter, spinner, weaver, cross stitcher, etc)  and I’m currently knitting my husband a winter hat, so I started trying to figure out what a crafty MC would make the brothers as goodbye gifts when they go back to the human world.

Also, this got REALLY REALLY long.

Lucifer

(Unromanced)

This guy is hard to make stuff for. 

His aesthetic is VERY tight and leaves no room for mistakes

So a simple winter scarf, in business-black, is probably the way to go. 

Somewhat lux yarn, cashmere/silk or alpaca/silk, so it has a sheen

He travels to the human world sometimes, and Diavolo has winter themed events in Devildom sometimes, so a scarf isn’t totally impractical.

He would appreciate the amount of time you spent making it, even if he didn’t get a chance to wear it that often.

(Romanced)

Let’s get more personal, now. You still have the same problem with his aesthetic, and the fact that if you want to give him something ~~personal~~ he won’t be able to wear it openly. His pride says no.

He’s stern in public, but affectionate in private.

You knit a medium-sized decorative pillow cover for his bed, in his signature wine-red.

It’s simple and elegant and can sit on his bed like it’s something he picked up in a Hellhome Goods store, and only *he* knows it’s a private gift.

After swearing him to secrecy, you get Solomon to help you charm the pillow, so it never pills up or wears out, and it maintains your scent forever. (Actually, it’s fair to say you do this for all of the romanced gifts).

“I thought, you know, if I can’t be there with you every night, something of me can?”

Awkward MC is awkward.

He not only appreciates how much time went into the gift (who knows how busy you are better than Lucifer?) but that you spent that much time thinking about him.

Mr. Acts of Service over here. Every stitch is something you did *for him*

You assume he’ll just leave it on the bed, and maybe, if you’re lucky, it’ll help you be the last thing he thinks of at night and the first thing he thinks of in the morning. 

Maybe he’ll smile when he sees it, and some of his weariness will lift.

Oh, if only you knew.

Mr. “Stern In Public” wraps himself around the pillow every night. Well. Every time he manages to sleep. Which, let’s face it, isn’t every night. 

But when he DOES sleep, it’s with that pillow. If he can’t sleep wrapped around you, this will have to suffice.

Finds he doesn’t sleep well when he travels, because he refuses to bring the pillow with him.

If asked, he says it’s because it’s not important.

But he just doesn’t want to lose it.

It’s too important to him.

Mammon

(Unromanced)

You’ve seen this boy’s room.

You’re not spending hours and hours and tons of money making him something.

You love the guy, but you’ve seen how he takes care of his possessions.

Most of what he owns is chucked aside when the next new-shiny comes along.

You know he loves you to bits and he’ll be careful with whatever you give him.

But “careful” has a different definition for Mammon than for some of the others.

So you knit him a hat. A trendy, slightly-too-small hat in black with a small yellow stripe on the brim.

You can use some lux yarn because, for a single-skein project, investing in cashmere or mohair or something isn’t too awful.

It looks really great on him - the fluff of his white hair, the small yellow stripe, then the wash of black as contrast. It makes his eyes pop and his skin look even warmer.

He wears it to a shoot one day and the photographer loves it

Now everyone wants one

But he has the only one because it’s handmade

Suck it, losers!

The Avatar of Greed finally has something everyone else wants that no one else can get!

(Romanced)

Yeah, you’ve seen his room. You’ve practically lived in his room. But you know he’ll be careful with anything you give him because he loves you. 

It would break his heart to have to ask you to fix something you made for him.

You know he’s going to suffer when you leave

You want him to know that you’re always there, even if you’re not *there*

So you knit him a sweater

A big, oversized sweater out of super soft chunky wool with tons of texture.

You finish it early so you can wear it around your room for a few weeks. On the rare nights you sleep alone, you sleep in it.

Again, get Solomon to enchant it.

Now it smells like you.

You wouldn’t notice, but a demon’s sense of smell is far stronger.

“I know it’s not, like, fashionable or anything. But it’s comfy and it can be…..a portable hug?”

His face turns red and he winds up stammering. Obviously. So he puts it on to avoid having to look at you.

Chucks it on over his tshirt. He immediately pulls the neckband back up over his face to take a deep inhale from the fabric.

He looks really cute in it

(He looks really cute in anything, let’s face it)

Might start crying.

Hug him pls.

Any night he feels lonely (which is most nights) he wears this sweater. Falls asleep in it half the time.

It really is like a hug, and the boy needs all the hugs he can get.

Leviathan

(Unromanced)

Out of all the brothers, Levi is the one who will appreciate STUFF. No matter what you make for him, he’ll love it. 

It’s limited edition! No one else has anything like this!

So this boy is getting crocheted plushies.

(They’re called amigurumi, and he’ll appreciate knowing that)

You make a mobile for his room

Hanging from it are little plushies of all his favorite sea creatures

Henry 2.0 is the biggest

But there’s a few jellyfish

A whale

You had to completely invent a pattern for a kraken, and it came out okay!

You had some extra yarn, so you made a few extra jellyfish

They get suction cups. 

Now he has jellyfish in his tanks and outside his tanks

Spends the next hour rigging up the mobile over his tub so he can see them before he goes to sleep and remember how much his true friend cares about him.

(Romanced)

This took….time to make.

You had to basically invent two patterns from scratch

There was a LOT of frogging.

And swearing.

When Levi opens the box and pulls aside the tissue paper, there’s two crocheted figures

One of each of you

(The one of you may or may not be dressed as Ruri-Chan)

“You made these…..for me?”

Tell him you made ONE of them for him. You take the one of him and hug it, “This one comes with me. So I’ve still got you.”

(Don’t let him cry!)

(Too late)

Then you show him the best part - each figure has a magnet in one hand.

When they get close to each other, the magnets snap together and the figures hold hands :)

Even though the two amigurumi will be in two separate realms, those magnets will want to find their partner.

Levi is floored - this is just like something out of an anime! Like two halves of a locket or something!

He can’t even find words. Possibly not for the next hour or two.

But he makes the cutest little squeaks and the verbal equivalent of keysmashes.

Like Lucifer, he sleeps with your gift. But he also carries it around his room. It has pride of place on his desk, and he purchases a stand so you can sit with him while he games or does his online schooling.

He talks to it like he would talk to you, especially on busy days when you can’t actually talk to him on the D.D.D.

It eases the feeling that you left Devildom and forgot about him. Eases - just a little - the jealousy of every human in your world who gets to talk to you. Because none of THEM have a handmade you. Just him.

Satan

(Unromanced)

This guy is either the easiest one to make for, or the hardest.

Like, you could make him a stuffed kitty. Or knit him a tie. But he’s not a super sentimental guy (unless romanced) and, in the end, that’s just stuff. His room is FULL of stuff.

Soooooo, you take out your sewing skills and sew him a traditional Sherlock hat - the deerstalker one, the one that never was actually in the books, but is still associated with the character.

The most straightforward of the brothers, Satan is indeed touched that you spent so long making something for him and he tells you so.

Insists he’ll wear it when solving mysteries.

You laugh, but he actually does wear the hat when reading mysteries now. 

It reminds him of the trip to London - how he got to solve an actual mystery, save his brother, and see the sites with his friend.

(Romanced)

YouTube made it look so easy.

It’s just paper, right? Paper and thread and a needle. You can sew clothes and stuffed animals. How hard can it be to sew together pages to make a book?

Oh, my sweet summer child.

You considered actually pulping and making your own paper, but after the seventh ruined batch of signatures you’re grateful you talked yourself out of that one.

You also considered an actual leather binding, but go for boards and a more simple Japanese sewing technique. 

This project is the perfect thing to give to Satan - not just because it’s a book, but because making it is causing you SO MUCH RAGE.

Who needs firewood when you have the ruined attempts of your gift?

You may have thrown various attempts on the floor and stomped on them before chucking them in the fire.

It takes weeks but you finally get the book together. Now the REAL work can begin.

Every book the two of you read together. Every book you discussed. Every book you recommended to him. Every single one gets a page - a title, a date, and a discussion of your discussion of the book.

The book itself becomes a tour through your growing relationship.

While not as stern as Lucifer in public, Satan is also definitely fond in private - he’s completely unsurprised to receive a book as a present, but once he begins leafing through it, the semi-smug smile vanishes.

He looks shocked, and his hold on the book gentles.

His fingers run down the page, tracing your handwriting on a page particularly precious to him.

Speechless for a few minutes, he finally returns with only “I love it.”

Said so softly and sincerely that you can’t doubt his sincerity.

There are blank pages at the end and he begins to use them to document newer books he’s reading - ones he wants to discuss with you later.

Asmodeus

(Unromanced)

Good luck keeping your gift a secret!

Asmo loves craft and crafty things, so he’s always curious about what you’re making and fascinated with the process.

Probably helps with suggestions for the others, especially for a romanced brother (although WHAT you see in them is beyond him, after all, what can THEY have that Asmo doesn’t?)

Because he seems to pop up out of nowhere, he’s already seen his gift a few times. Thankfully, he thinks you’re making it for yourself.

Bonus, he’s whiny and jealous about it, and obviously wants it for himself. So, score. You know he’ll like it.

It seems simple; a pair of fingerless gloves in his signature hot pink. But the yarn is mohair lace (you’ve cursed at it many, many times for tangling on you) held double with merino/silk black yarn.

The gloves are lacy and airy, sensual and soft. They feel wonderful to wear, and look great with a majority of his outfits. 

He absolutely squeals and hugs you when he opens up the gift - the gift he was so jealous of! Of COURSE you were making it for him this whole time!

Wears them constantly. His Devilgram pics start having a lot of “what am I holding?” themes. Cups of coffee or hot chocolate. Someone else’s hand. A ticket for an absolutely fabulous play. And a LOT of peace signs and finger-hearts  :)

(Romanced) 

This one requires the cooperation - willing or not - of everyone in the house.

You start with your DDD. That’s easy enough.

Since you’ll need Sol’s help anyway, it’s easy enough to plunder the pictures on his phone, too.

The rest of the brothers you get, one by one. Belphie’s you steal while he’s sleeping, although you found nothing useful on it. Beel just lets you borrow his phone. You ask to borrow Mammon’s while he’s gambling and he doesn’t notice that it takes you an hour to give it back. Satan - the real photographer - must be taken into your confidence - you might need his help later anyway. But he’s particularly close to Asmo, and knows how to keep his mouth shut.

You stalk Lucifer for a few weeks. You ask Satan for advice. You consider asking Diavolo to just order Lucifer to hand over his phone.

Finally you just ask him for it.

Getting a hold of Asmo’s phone is the hardest bit. You have to wait until he’s deep in a spa day, hanging around in his tub with both a sheet mask AND cucumber slices.

Then you make off with his phone. And go through the photos.

His wonderful Devilgram-worthy pictures you ignore. You start looking for the ones that he rejected, but kept. The one where both of you cracked up laughing right before the photo snapped. The one where he dropped his hot chocolate and then stole yours.

The two of you in clay face masks and toe spacers? Yep. The one you took of him with super-wide eyes as he put on mascara? Definitely. Selfies of you two surrounded by his brothers, by Sol, by Simeon, even a few with Luke.

The one Satan took of the two of you dancing at one of Diavolo’s balls, so lost in each other that the rest of the ball might as well not exist? Of course.

You combine them with the ones taken by everyone else in the house.

Culling them for the best takes weeks. Because you don’t just want the ~~prettiest~~ pictures or the ones designed for social media.

You pick the ones with emotional meaning, ones of important events, but mostly you choose pictures of genuine laughter and affection. Ones that show how much the two of you love each other, and how much true friendship exists in the house. 

How much he’s not alone, and how much he is loved. How much the people around him appreciate him.

With Satan and Solomon, you gather and enchant a simple glass cube.

It displays these photos, gently lit up, like the digital picture frames in the human world.

“I want you to remember me,” you say quietly. “I want you to remember how much fun we’ve had, and how much I love you for you.”

Not gonna lie, Asmo cries.

The cube moves around his rooms depending on where he is - it’s by his tub if he’s taking a bath. It’s on his vanity when he’s putting on  his makeup. He credits it with helping his relaxation and makeup game.

It’s always on a nightstand by his bed before he goes to sleep. Sometimes he just lays on his back, puts the cube on his stomach, and watches memories float through it.

What you wanted - for him to remember that he’s loved for more than his sexual prowess - comes true. The pictures remind him of the life he has outside of a bedroom.

He starts spending more time with his brothers. He starts taking more pictures.

His followers appreciate the diversification in his content :)

He appreciates how much you love getting texts of those photos - the not-social-media-ready ones, but the REAL ones.

Beelzebub

(Unromanced)

I mean, you could just bake the guy a dozen cakes.

But then he’d eat them and they’d be gone.

And you can’t make him anything that looks like food, because he’d eat it.

You’ve finished your gifts for half of the brothers before you even figure out what to make for him.

And then it comes to you…..socks.

He’ll use them.

He won’t eat them.

They’re not the most interesting gift, but you’re running out of time.

You actually manage to find a pattern covered with colorwork triangles that mimic his usual shirt.

You get Satan to charm them for you - the problem with handmade socks is that they wear out FAST. Not anymore!

Beel LOVES them.

(To be fair, he’d probably love anything you gave him)

Once he knows they won’t wear out, they become his Game Socks.

Like most athletes, he becomes superstitiously obsessed with the socks, wearing them for absolutely every game he plays.

Is convinced they help him win.

(Romanced)

You encounter basically the same problem as above - what on earth to make him?

You want something that reminds him how much you love him, and it absolutely can’t be anything he could even be tempted to eat, because he’d never forgive himself.

You try a number of times to build a small tapestry loom, but that skill seems to be beyond you.

Finally you have to beg Lucifer to pick one up for you in the human world.

Once you get it, you’re off and running.

Now, just because things can’t look like food doesn’t mean it can’t be inspired by it.

Red yarn, the exact juicy red of an apple - but here, just an abstract circle. Mixes of pale cream, yellow, and red in a triangle - an abstract pizza slice. 

Those cookies Barbatos makes? There. The broccoli-cheddar soup you learned to make for her? Now just an orange blob with tiny green squiggles. And on, and on. 

And buried, scattered throughout, little woven hearts.

The hearts are made of slightly different yarn, puffier and thicker, so they stand out just a little bit.

In the end, you have a decent-sized wall hanging, full of texture and shapes that are just reminiscent enough of food to bring a smile to Beel’s face, but not enough to actually be worth eating.

He passes the hanging every day, and every day he brushes his fingers over the yarn or through the fringe; a physical reminder of you.

Belphegor

(Unromanced)

This guy is probably the easiest one to make things for.

Is it soft? Is it cuddly? Can he use it as a pillow? Can he snuggle it like a stuffed animal? 

Click “yes” on any of those questions, and you have a happy - well, a slightly less annoyed - Belphie.

Which is why you take this as a challenge. The easy answer - a pillow - is BORING. And the other easy answer - a blanket - would take WAY too much time.

So, like Levi, he gets a plushie.

But not just any plushie.

He gets a plushie of Lucifer.

Lucifer…..on a pastel unicorn.

Belphie starts cackling the moment he opens it, which is fair, because you laughed a fair bit designing and making it.

He starts leaving it where Lucifer can find it, then saying that the elder can’t do anything about it, because MC made it and there’s no way he’d want to harm anything made by MC.

Satan tries to steal it.

In the end, an “anonymous” Devilgram is created, dedicated to the “adventures” of this particular plushie.

It’s all fun and games until Diavolo wants one.

(Romanced)

Well, for your boyfriend, the time and effort involved in making a blanket is just fine.

You debate endlessly - comprehensive color scheme? Granny squares or stripes? How heavy?

You go with your gut instinct - this isn’t a boy who cares about color schemes or blanket styles.

(Just look at his clothes, seriously.)

He cares about one thing - comfort.

You find the softest, smushiest yarn you can, and a pattern you can tolerate working on for like 100 hours.

You go old-school; a granny square blanket like the ones that pretty much every person had thrown over the couch in the 70s and 80s. The perfect nap blanket.

Black… mostly black, with some bright accent colors. Kind of obnoxious accent colors, actually. You figure it’ll appeal to his (dubious) sense of humor. Also it’ll piss Lucifer off seeing it around the house, clashing with literally everything in the oh-so-perfectly-decorated Gothic interior.

This one requires….special enchantment.

A little bit of ritual, and that blanket will fold up into a tiny square; easy to carry from place to place.

Belphie is torn between wanting to carry it around everywhere, like his pillow, and to leave it in the attic room, always waiting for him.

Depending on his mood, he’ll do one or the other.

But no matter what, he also sleeps juuuust a little bit better under it, snuggled up under your love.

You make him the Lucifer plushie, too. It’s too funny not to :)

[getoutofmyjaneway]

Beta Cannon: the Pre Voyager Era of Kathryn Janeway | Mosaic v The Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway

This weekend, I got a copy of the Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway from a local book store. For how frequently we speak about Mosaic in the community (despite having some flaws) I was shocked that I had not heard a lot about this book and assumed it was a bad thing. And yeah in some regards it was (see @mia-cooper’s post on the subject). I have a lot of feelings (I’ll post a proper review at a later point) but one thing that did stick out to me is the divergence from what we have considered Beta Canon, aka, the extended universe of Star Treks told through novels, short stories, video games, etc. After completing the novel, I jumped right into my old standby copy of Mosaic, which has dictated a lot of Janeway’s back story since 96. Both of these novels cover the beginnings of Janeway’s life and how she was shaped into the woman we know. 

TLDR The Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway changes a lot of things for no reason. Some of these are for the good. Some for the bad. And some, for like no good reason at all, like it was fine as it was, and was accepted cannon for like 25 years, but sure fine whatever.

I will mention that, as Mosaic has been a book in my library and I have read it too many times, so of course, I do have a bias toward it. Additionally, I feel like it is fair to mention here that authors of Fanfiction have leaned on this as their bibles since 1996 as Mosaic is written by Jeri Taylor, one of the show-runners for Voyager. Because of its connection with a showrunner, Mosaic is also integrated into the canon of the show. It seems that most points that are taken from Mosaic in the Autobiography are only included because of their existence in cannon material.

Anyway, this review is going to focus on the characters that shape Kathryn and I will end with my final thoughts. This is long so to respect your dash, you are going to have to click keep reading. You’re welcome.

Obligatory Spoiler Warning for ALL of Mosaic, chapter 13 of Pathways, and chapters 1-7 of The Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway

Edward Janeway

In all media, I feel like we can safely say that Kathryn Janeway is in fact a daddy’s girl. Her relationship with her father is very important to her, so it is interesting to see how it is portrayed very differently in both novels. In Mosaic, a lot of the highlights of Janeway’s earlier years revolve around time spent with him. From giving her special attention after ‘Your Sister’ was born, to consoling her after her losing tennis match and subsequent walk home in the rain, and trips to Mars, Kathryn mentions great fondness of quality time spent. In the Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway he is more described as an absent father, one that she always wanted to see and please. When he was home, she wanted all of his attention and to impress him greatly. She wished to follow in his footsteps after gaining a love of flight and the stars with a plane ride and a telescope he gave her. He tried to prepare her by detaining the events of the current conflict with Cardassia and inviting Starfleet brass over for dinner. Overall, in her early childhood, it makes more sense for Edward to not be around often. There is not a lot of conflict between the sources, other than the details of the aforementioned tennis match and different childhood nicknames.  

Edward is in a crash aboard an experimental ship on Tau Ceti Prime which leads to his death. This is where the big differences begin. In Mosaic, Kathryn and her fiancé are also on board. In  Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway, Kathryn is still on the Al-Batani. The fall out of this event has a great effect on Kathryn of course in both novels. As this is a missive shaping event of Kathryn’s life, I felt it very jarring to be changed. This moment shaped Janeway and gives us good context for why she handles situations the way she does. I see this trauma and I understand her character better, for dealing with the loss of two of the most important people in her life all at once.

Gretchen Janeway

The Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway was good to Gretchen Janeway as her character is basically a blank slate. We know little about her from Mosaic as it mostly focuses on Kathryn’s relationship with her father (and other male influences in her life). It is nice to learn more things about Grechen as with Edward’s job, it is likely that Kathryn was mainly raised by her. Other than being an artist, she also wrote some of the Flotter holos and wrote a number of children’s stories about the people of Bajor during the occupation. She does a lot of humanitarian work with the refugees from Bajor during the occupation. She loves to garden and get her daughters involved. She has a close bond with Phoebe due to their overlapping interests, but you can tell that she strives to support her in what she does. Overall, I like getting know Gretchen to be someone of than Kathryn’s mother.

Phoebe Janeway

 I was shocked when researching Memory Alpha for this review, Phoebe is never named in any Cannon media up to this point (Star Trek Prodigy could very well change this). We know Janeway has a sister and she is an artist, but that is it. Both novels keep her very similar personality-wise. In both stories, Kathryn is not looking forward to being a big sister. They also both mourn the loss of their father together. In Mosaic, she is not mentioned much. Kathryn tells her she is not old enough on an off planet trip and Phoebe plays pranks on her. The Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway goes much more into depth. They don’t get along when they are younger. They fight a lot. I feel this is a very realistic portrayal of real siblings, vying for attention and approval, snapping when they don’t get their way.  They both excel at what they do, Kathryn in her studies and Phoebe through her art. They seem to need to one-up each other at every turn.  As they grow up, they grow closer together, as many siblings do. Points added for giving Phoebe a wife, something which has been included in a lot of fanfiction. Overall, there are no big conflicting points.

Mark Johnson

Kathryn’s fiance at the time of the Voyager’s disappearance, Mark is a very different part of Kathryn’s life in both novels. In Mosaic, he is a childhood friend and went by his middle name Hobbs. Seemingly always two steps behind Kathryn, he did a lot of the same activities that she did, tennis and swimming in the underground cave systems. He did these poorly, and this makes Kathryn always look down upon him. They reconnected after her father’s death and she fell head-over-heels for him. Personally, I always felt this was a little uncharacteristic of Kathryn, to run away from her responsibilities to be with a man. It just seems very out of character and has always bothered me. The  Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway takes a completely different approach. She meets Mark as a friend of Pheobe and her wife as a widower. They hit it off and they fall hard. You can see the conflict in Kathryn as she debates how to move forward with a relationship as they have different outlooks on life. She has a drive to explore but does not want to be an absent parent. She debates quitting, which I don’t think is something Janeway would have ever done. Overall she decides to accept Mark’s proposal just before taking command of Voyager. This makes the Dear John situation a lot more believable as it makes sense that he would want to move on with his life much quicker. Overall, I have to just ask, why? I know Mark doesn’t have a lot of character, but why change basically their whole relationship dynamic? 

Justin Tighe

Justin is a character I actually like for selfish reasons. This explains why I was very miffed that he was nowhere to be seen in the Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway. Justin is Kathryn’s first love, they were coworkers, engaged and in love, and dies in the same accident that takes her father. As a person who always wanted Chakotay and Janeway to get together, this incident perfectly gives the reason. She is afraid to get romantically involved with a crew member because of the nature of the job. This dynamic is seen between Picard and Nella Daren in TNG very well. Kathryn has learned the hard way that she can lose a person under her command and how it feels when you are in love with that person. In early Voyager, you can see she isolates herself from the crew and it takes time for her to get comfortable. And during Night she relapses to her old ways. This is the way I have always justified Janeway’s reluctance to have a romantic relationship during their time in the Delta Quadrant. By understanding her background, I have a lot of respect for that choice. Her relationship with Justin really shaped how she handles relationships and without the impact he had on her life, it actually makes her character weaker.

Owen Paris

Owen is Kathryn’s mentor. In Mosaic, they meet as he is reviewing her junior honors thesis advisor on massive compact halo objects. From here they gained a relationship built on respect and learning. It makes sense that, as he was her personal mentor, that she would be close with his family, and why she would seek out Tom as a person to bring with her to the Badlands mission. In the Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway, she does not meet him until she is on the Al-Batani. This doesn’t only weaken her relationship with Admiral Paris, but moreover weakens her relationship with Tom. If he was her superior officer, why would she develop such a ‘big sister’ mentality to Tom if she didn’t have as many opportunities to meet him?

Tuvok

Mosaic does not go too much in depth with Tuvok and Janeway’s relationship, but its sister novel Pathways does. In Pathways, Tuvok meets Janeway when he is an ensign under her command of the USS Bonestell. The Bonestell and the Billings, two ships that Janeway served on, tend to get confused a lot. Most sources have Janeway’s first command as the Voyager, Including Voyager itself -  “It doesn't seem like my first command is shaping up the way I expected,” Janeway Shattered. The Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway has her and Tuvok meet on the Al-Batani. I actually really like the dynamic between them, as they grow to respect each other over a much longer period of time. I also like that, though Janeway climbs through the ranks, it does not change their relationship dynamic as she still relies on him and asks him advice as if they were equals. I think giving them a longer time to build their relationship. Also would like to note that Janeway and Tuvok also had a friendship with the original CMO of Voyager, Dr. Fitzgerald. I always wanted to know more about the Pre-Caretaker crew and I would have loved to see this dynamic and how the grief of losing a close personal friend in the Caretaker incident would impact them both.

Also I feel obligated to shout out the Janeway and Tuvok story in Star Trek Waypoint One-Shot. I need to get around to doing a series retrospective, but this short story I have not seen anyone talk about and I love it so much. Please read Waypoint. Okay next.

Other characters

Cheb - Janeway’s boyfriend in Mosaic. He was kind of an asshole and got her into trouble. He is not in the Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway and I see no problem with this.

Boothby - “[he is the] head groundskeeper at Starfleet Academy. When I was a cadet, he used to give me fresh roses for my quarters,” Janeway Revulsion. Boothby is not in Mosaic. In the Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway, it is explained that her mother loved to garden and this was something that Boothby did as a gradian figure to make her feel at home and destress. Makes sense.

Aisha - A childhood friend of Katheryn’s. Only in the Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway. Mosaic has this weird thing about highlighting the relationships with only the men in her life, so it is nice to see her have some other female friends.

Nexa - Katheryn’s roommate at the Academy.�� Only in the Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway. Nexa helps broaden Kathryn’s horizons by helping to learn about Exoliguisticts, first contact, and the Betazoid culture. Again nice to see her have other female friends.

Riker - Yes they go on a date in Mosaic. He is not mentioned in the  Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway. I know he is a gag character but I still liked it.

-----------------------

Final Thoughts

A lot of characters were changed between these two novels. There is a lot to like and a lot to hate. I really like what the Autobiography of Kathryn Janeway did with characters like Tuvok and Gretchen Janeway. Other characters were not so lucky (Justin, sweetie I’m so sorry that they would erase you like that, oh my god). It’s a mixed bag, but one thing I need say is... why?

We have had a good thing going here with the established canon as is. Mosaic (and Pathways) is the foundation of which the last 25 years of fanworks and the relaunch novels are based on. Why change history when it is already written?

Always, would love to hear your thoughts and thank you for reading my novel of a post. I will see you in the full review.

[ssa-montgomery]

I'm sorry to my unknown lover

Word Count: 2040

Summary: During a night out with the BAU Hotch can't hold in his feelings towards Emily anymore.

Characters: Hotch x Emily, JJ, Garcia, Morgan, Reid, Rossi

Warnings: Some angst and fighting, lots of yearning, fluff, declarations of love

A/N: Another Hotchniss fic! I actually had a lot of fun writing this one and I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did! I like to think that both Emily and Hotch are very stubborn when it comes to actually talking about their feelings and situations end like this for them far too often xD This fic was also requested on here so please do continue sending me prompts! I really appreciated the comments on my last Hotchniss fic and they motivated me to finish this one so please leave some comments and let me know what you're favourite part was :D

Prompts: "I can't keep kissing strangers and pretending that they're you." "I can't do this anymore." "It's scary what a smile can hide."

Feedback is what motivates me to work so please let me know what you think! Reblogs are also greatly appreciated.

Taglist is open!

Masterlist

The bar was busier than usual, all though for late on a Saturday evening it was to be expected. The team was working a rough case all week that thankfully ended well and had just arrived back in Quantico when Rossi suggested they head to the bar and let him buy them all drinks to celebrate. They quickly accepted, never turning down a free drink and headed out for the night. A few hours and plenty of rounds had passed by now. The tables around them were packed full of people and the noise of the conversations and the loud music playing all around them meant they had to shout to be heard but nobody seemed to mind. They'd lost track of the last time they got to spend time all together like this and it was a well needed night out.

While they all started the night sitting around one table the team had slowly been separating out across the bar. Morgan was now standing by the pool tables near the bar with his arm wrapped around the waist of an attractive blonde as he leaned in to be heard over the music, teaching her how to play pool with him. Reid who followed after him seemed to be in deep conversation with one of the men at the next table over, they had seemingly found a topic they were both passionate about as they ignored everything else around them in favour of their rant. Back at the main table, the team had fallen into a casual conversation, Rossi and Hotch talking together while Garcia filled JJ and Emily in on all the gossip they had missed at the office while they were away on the case.

Garcia suddenly stopped mid-rant and tilted her curiously, watching something over Emily's shoulder. She tapped JJ's arm and without exchanging a single word she knew exactly what she was talking about, simply nodding her head as a reply when Garcia turned to meet her gaze.

"What the hell are you two looking at?" Emily asked, furrowing her brow in confusion as she turned to look over her shoulder herself. She couldn't see anything out of place that they could have been staring at.

"That guy at the bar, uh the brunette with the dark shirt?" Garcia tried her best to gesture towards him as subtly as she could without giving away that the whole group was now staring over at him. "He's been staring over at you all night. I mean I can practically feel the yearning from here. You should go talk to him!"

"Oh." Emily hesitated and then shook her head nervously. She stared down at her glass, twisting it in her hand as she considered the idea. This had become a regular thing for them. JJ or Garcia would spot a cute guy and then convince Emily to go talk to him while she hid the truth about who she really wanted to talk to. "I don't know, is that really a good idea?"

"Um yes? Come on how many times have I told you it's time for you to get back out there Emily." JJ encouraged smiling widely at her. Before making any decision Emily glanced around the table waiting to see if anyone would object to the idea. Hoping he would. When everyone else remained silent Emily could feel that all too familiar sinking in her stomach. She pushed it down and tried to ignore it, putting on a bright smile instead.

"Oh okay screw it! What's the worst that can happen right?" Emily laughed doing exactly what she did best, hiding her disappointment. She lifted her glass and took another drink before standing up out of her seat and starting to walk towards the bar. JJ and Garcia watched on closely, leaning in to whisper together about how they thought it would work out. Even Morgan seemed to notice what was happening back at the table and he shot Emily a supportive grin as his form of encouragement from where he was standing.

It seemed the whole team was on board with setting Emily up with this mystery man as she sat down and started talking to him. Well, everyone but Hotch. He stared forward so no one caught onto the tightness in his chest with every second that she spent laughing with someone else. It all came to a breaking point when the man took her hand in his and leaned forward, kissing her gently. Hotch had to tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him then, not being able to take anymore. Part of him wanted to tell him to get his hands off of her, and the other part knew it wasn't his place. It was selfish, he knew that, but he couldn't stand to see Emily with someone that wasn't him. Then again it was his fault when he could never find the courage to tell her how he felt about her. Maybe if he could, things would be different and loving her wouldn't hurt so much.

While everyone else was still distracted by what was happening and he was sure they wouldn't notice him leaving he stood up and grabbed his coat from the bar of his chair. He quietly slipped away from the group and pushed his way through the crowds towards the back exit of the bar. It was cold as he stepped out into the biting late-night air and he pulled his coat on before continuing across the parking lot. He knew he should've told someone before he left - they always did, a safety precaution with their job - but at that moment all he wanted to do was find a cab and get home as quickly as he could. He was halfway to the street when he heard the sound of the heavy exit door swinging open behind him. He ignored it at first, presuming it was just another person leaving after him but then.

"Hotch?"

For a second he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, that his mind had been so consumed by her tonight that he was starting to hear things but when he finally turned around it was in fact Emily walking towards him. She was tugging her jacket closer to her body in an attempt to fight off the cold as she watched him curiously.

"Why'd you leave?" She asked, her voice almost sad.

Hotch opened his mouth to reply, ready to fire off some lame excuse as to why he needed to get out of there as quickly as he did, he was sure he could come up with a convincing lie like he had a hundred times before but instead he just sighed. He dropped his head in defeat and ran his hand across the back of his neck.

"I can't do this anymore." Was all he managed to get out, his tiredness at this whole situation obvious in his voice. He couldn't stand around and lie to Emily's face anymore. He turned around again and started to walk towards the street.

"Hotch!" Emily called out as she ran to catch up with him. He could hear the sound of her heels on the ground and he wished she would just go back inside. If she started to push him, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold it in anymore and it had been building for too long. He spun around to face her when she grasped at his arm to stop him in his tracks. "What is going on with you?"

"What's going on with me? Are you kidding me, Emily?" Hotch snapped with more aggression than he'd meant to, but it was too late now, the dam was finally burst and whether he liked it or not the truth was finally coming out. Emily's hand fell from his arm then and she stood back staring at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion. "What's going on with me is that no matter where I go I have to stand back and watch JJ and Garcia fawning over the idea of setting you up with every guy they see. What's going on is that I have to sit there and bite my tongue while I act like it doesn't bother me. I have to act like it doesn't physically hurt to see you kissing them because if I react then I'm unprofessional and I mean what does it matter anyway because you don't give a damn what I think about it so it's not my place to say anything anyway. I have to act like it's not eating me up inside."

Hotch stopped then, feeling his heart hammering in his chest and the sudden realisation of what he just said settling in. He started to panic, afraid that Emily would push him away and that he'd just ruined what relationship he already had with her. He wanted to apologise, to take it all back but he couldn't now. Emily laughed then. It was a short, sarcastic sound, more of a scoff than anything else.

"Wow. Seriously Hotch? Are you genuinely so oblivious that you think I don't care? I care! Of course, I care! I always have." It seemed it was Emily's turn to let out everything she had been holding back as she launched into a rant of her own, her voice slowly rising in volume as she did. "I flirt with those guys, I let them set me up to keep them happy, to keep them off my back about the real reason I haven't dated anyone in months. Tonight when they were encouraging me to go talk to that guy I looked around that table because I wanted you to stop me, I wanted you to give me a reason to think you cared enough to stop me. Instead, all I got was that blank expression that told me that you didn't care. Do you want to know why I kiss have of them? Why I kissed that guy tonight? Because they remind me of you. Because it's you I want to kiss but I can't and I can't keep kissing strangers and pretending that they're you."

"But-" Hotch trailed off then, as the weight of Emily's words settled over him. All this time, she had cared after all. All this time they had both been silently suffering because neither one was brave enough to admit the truth about their feelings. It felt silly now, all the excuses he'd told himself about why he couldn't just admit his feelings to Emily. He'd always believed she didn't want him and now he knew how wrong he was. "You always seemed so happy with them. Smiling and laughing the whole time."

"It's scary what a smile can hide," Emily admitted weakly, her voice barely above a whisper now. "It was never real with them, they could never really make me laugh, not the way you can."

That was all it took for Hotch to finally surge and pull Emily up into a fierce kiss. He cupped her cheek, letting his other arm wrap around her waist pulling her in closer to his chest as his lips slid over hers. Emily seemed stunned for a moment but then she responded just as passionately, wrapping her arms around Hotch's neck. Neither of them ever thought they'd get to this moment but here they were, standing in the middle of the parking lot wrapped up in each other's arms as they kissed. They didn't care that at any moment another member of the team could walk outside or that it was still freezing outside. All they cared about was that moment.

"I can't believe it's taken us this long to do that." Hotch laughed gently, brushing Emily's hair out of her face as he slowly pulled away from the kiss.

"Me either." Emily giggled, letting her forehead rest against his. She could feel his breath fanning over her lips and she wanted to kiss him again, she wanted to kiss him forever now that she finally could. "Does this mean you're finally going to take me to dinner?"

"Yes." Hotch nodded smiling down at her. "Absolutely."

Tag list: @marauder-level-chaos

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

The God Honest Truth - fic

Characters: Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, bits of Cass and Duke Summary: In which Dick asks Bruce an important question about their littlest partner. And Bruce answers wrong. A/N: Honestly I’m too deep in the throes of depression and self-loathing for an author’s note. How I’m pretending/imaging the prep for the Robin 5 reunion goes or whatever.

~~

“Did you ever tell him the truth?”

Bruce is barely on the bottom step leading into the Cave when he stops at the voice. He glances forward, sees Tim, Jason and Stephanie putting weapons in duffle bags. Duke and Cassandra are taking turns between typing on the computer and calling out items on a checklist to the other three.

He turns towards the lockers, where the voice came from, and finds Dick sitting there. His Nightwing uniform was only half on, pooled around his waist, one boot on and one still sitting in front of him. He was hunched over, elbows on his knees, something in his hand. A paper or card, if Bruce had to guess.

Dick glanced up, eyes looking tired and sad, waiting on the answer.

“Did I ever tell who what?” Bruce asked, moving forward. He stopped a few steps away from his eldest, glanced back at the object in his hands. Not a card – a picture. Old and crumpled, like it’d been in a wallet, or held often.

“Damian.” Dick whispers the name like it wasn’t allowed to be said. “Did you tell him the truth?” Dick paused, looked back down at the photo, ran his thumb over one corner. “You told him he didn’t kill Alfred, right?”

“Of course I did.” Bruce nodded. “I told him I don’t blame him many times.”

Dick’s fingers tightened on the photograph. When he looked up this time, his eyes were angry. “That’s not the same thing.”

“Of course it is.” Bruce countered, giving a small shrug. “Damian knows what I meant.”

Dick stared at him for a few more seconds, then stood. “Yeah, he did. And I guess now so do I.”

Bruce frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“Fault and blame have two totally different meanings.” Dick spit. “You’re a fucking genius, Bruce. I know you know that.”

“I don’t blame him, Dick. Of course I don’t. I’d be ridiculous to.” Bruce countered.

Dick opened his mouth to retort, but suddenly Jason called over. Dick’s head snapped to the side, listening as Jason asked about a certain weapon, and the weather report. Dick gave him a tight smile and nodded.

But when he turned back to Bruce, his face was already stone.

“Say it.” He murmured.

“Say what?” Bruce sighed.

Dick’s grip on the picture, now only in one hand, tightened. “Say it wasn’t Damian’s fault.”

“I don’t blame him.” Bruce hummed. “No one should.”

“Say it wasn’t Damian’s fault.” Dick repeated, voice harder, more angry. “Say. It.”

Bruce stared at him a moment, his own gaze darting between Dick’s eyes.

“I don’t blame him.” Bruce returned softly. “I never have, and I never will.”

“Fuck you.” Dick said instantly, venomously. If Bruce didn’t know him as well as he did, he would have prepared for a fight. Taken a defensive position. “Alfred would be ashamed of you.”

Bruce’s gut twisted at that, and he felt himself biting his tongue. He let his eyes drop back to the picture in Dick’s hand. It was turned a little now, and even half covered by Dick’s grip, Bruce could see it well enough.

Dick and Damian, from years past. Dick was in the Batman uniform, Damian as Robin. Alfred blurry in the background. Stephanie too, giving a peace sign as she sat on the roof of the Batmobile.

Their masks were off. They were both laughing. Dick was in the chair at the computer monitors, and Damian was climbing along his back like a baby monkey would their mother, his head leaning sideways over Dick’s shoulder, as if he was playing some childish game of peek-a-boo around Dick’s head.

Dick, a coffee mug in hand, had his head turned, staring up at Damian with bright eyes, and a brighter smile. The epitome of not only joy, but love. Absolute, unconditional love.

And Damian was staring down at him with the exact same expression.

Bruce stared at it a moment more, then let his eyes drift back up to Dick’s face. Dick had turned away now, watching the three packing bags.

Bruce thought for a moment, let the clues put themselves together.

Packing bags. The family packing bags. Three former Robins packing bags.

Dick secluded. Dick’s emotional state. Dick’s photograph.

“…Where is he?” Bruce asked softly. “You found him?”

Dick snorted bitterly and shook his head. “I don’t think I’m under any obligation to tell you any of that.”

Bruce scoffed sarcastically right back. “Well, he’s my son, so I think you are.”

Dick seemed to hesitate, then slowly looked back at Bruce. His eyes were dark, but his face no longer angry. His face was no longer anything. Blank. Empty.

For a second, Bruce didn’t recognize him.

“You know, since we’re talking about being honest, I’m going to be honest with you.” Dick decided. He turned to face Bruce head on. Never blinked, never raised his voice. Simply said: “You don’t deserve him.”

Bruce merely blinked at him.

“You never deserved him.” Dick continued. “And I regret giving him back to you every day of my life.”

Bruce still just waited.

“…He’s a good kid.” Dick’s voice wavered a little now. Cracked just slightly. It seemed to break him of his slight trance, and he pulled the picture up. Clung to it between both hands, stared at it as if he was trying to memorize it. “A great kid. And I…I just wish you’d see that.”

Suddenly, Stephanie whistled. They both looked over as she spun her hand over her head, motioning for Dick to head towards their vehicle.

“Feel better now?” Bruce asked. Dick just sighed and closed his eyes. Folded the picture back up, and threw it into the duffle he’d been packing for himself. He slipped his foot into his remaining boot and pulled his suit up over his torso.

“Don’t wait up.” Dick grumbled, zipping up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. “We’re not coming back until we find him.”

Dick spun on his heel, all but jogging towards the plane. He met up with Tim halfway, and wrapped an arm tight around his back, ruffling his hair as he held the younger’s head to his shoulder. Tim laughed, and indulged him for a moment, before playfully pushing him away.

Tim slowed, then. Watched the other three board the aircraft, then looked at Bruce with a crooked smile. “Think you can survive a few days without a Robin, B?”

“You’re not just helping them get to…wherever they’re going?” Bruce asked, almost surprised. Almost sad, nervous. “I mean, I know you have other important things to do. And you and Damian don’t…”

Tim’s barely-there smile disappeared. “What’s more important than making sure my little brother is safe and getting him home?”

If Bruce was surprised before, he was almost floored now. Since when did Tim care so much about Damian? Was it since Alfred? Since Dick’s amnesia? Before all of that? Did Bruce…how did Bruce miss that?

“…And for the record.” Tim mumbled sheepishly. “Damian and I don’t hate each other anymore.” A small chuckle, just to himself. “Just because we don’t like each other doesn’t mean we won’t die for each other, you know?”

Bruce’s gut twisted some more. The statement left a bad taste in his mouth.

“…I don’t blame him, Tim. For anything.” Bruce whispered. “You…you know that, right?”

Tim frowned now. Looked down. “…Are you telling me that, or telling yourself?”

Tim scurried away before Bruce could even open his mouth. He disappeared into the plane and the door sealed shut behind him.

He felt Cassandra and Duke come up and stand on either side of them, the three watching as the plane took off into the tunnels and out to the world.

“…Dick is right.” Cassandra whispered. “It was not his fault.”

“I…” Bruce, finally, felt himself falter. Felt himself question. “I know.”

“Do you?” Duke said in a disbelieving hum as he walked away, back towards the computer. Cassandra stayed at his side, staring up at him for a few seconds. Then she turned away too, leaving Bruce to stand alone.

“…Does he?”

[lovely-ateez]

Favorite Place~

ꕥPosted: 3/8/21

ꕥGenre: College!au, Angst, Fluff

ꕥPairing: FemReader! x Emo!Hongjoong

ꕥWord Count: ~4.8k

ꕥWarnings: General angst (happy ending), Unknown man being creepy to reader, Characters insulting reader behind her back, Alcohol intake, Driving with a few sips of alcohol (please don’t drink and drive), Implied violence, Language, Oral (f recieving), Unprotected sex, Corruption kink, Language

ꕥA/N: Reader is a girly-girl bc we need more rep that isn’t hella negative and to actually be portrayed as smart and hardworking for once 😤 You👏can👏be👏both👏 ANyWay—thank you for bearing with me while I wrote this

I ran my hands along the open science textbook laying upon my desk, eyes scanning rapidly over the information. The pages were thin and flimsy, clearly showing the book’s age. If I wasn’t careful, the pages would rip with ease. Not that I had time to actually think about that.

In less than five minutes I, along with the twenty five other poor souls who took this class of their own volition, would be handed our last final for the class. A hundred and ten questions in an hour and thirty minutes.

The class was basically academic suicide and had I been told that, I would have stayed far, far away from the class. But no. No one bothered to run that by me.

A whiff of familiar cologne filled my nose and against my better judgement I looked up to find the class genius, Hongjoong Kim. It was bad enough that he was smart as a whip and never needed to study, but on top of it all he was a dangerous, handsome, irresistible bad boy.

He gave me a wink, a sly smile resting on his lips. I gave him the same reaction I always did: a blank face. There had been multiple times he had tried to rile me up, whether that be say something flirty or wink, or “accidentally” touch my shoulder, and I refused to give him the satisfaction of any reaction. I would keep a blank face, hoping that he would leave me alone.

I wasn’t immune to his charms. I felt butterflies in my stomach every time he looked at me just like any other girl he tried it on, but I didn’t want him to know that. The biggest reaction I had given him was an eyebrow quirk at most.

I could tell it bothered him. I knew he was frustrated that he couldn’t get me to blush or stutter my words, and that may have been part of why he kept up his antics. Probably the entire reason, knowing him. Had he not been a fuckboy, I might have fallen for him. Might have.

I returned my eyes to my book and heard his footsteps walk past me, headed to the very back of class. His usual spot.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen,” A loud clap could be heard from the front of the room, our professor signalling the start of class, “It is time for your final. I hope you all are well prepared. I ask that you remove anything from your desk aside from a pencil and I will begin to hand out the tests. You may leave as you finish, just make sure to hand me your tests before you leave. Good luck.”

Book already off my desk, I gripped my pencil, hoping six hours of studying was enough.

“Thank you.” I muttered to my professor as he placed the stack of papers on my desk.

Here goes nothing, I suppose.

-

I handed in my test with a smile, hoping that I’d pass. Taking a deep breath I stepped out of the classroom, seeing a familiar face. At the noise of my footsteps Hongjoong looked up from his phone with a devilish smile, eyes staring me down. I must’ve not noticed he turned in his test before mine, not that I was surprised. He always finished his test the quickest out of all of us.

“How’s it going, pretty-in-pink?”

Pink was my favorite color and and I wore pink clothes often, unfortunately it had earned me several unwanted nicknames, all coming from Hongjoong.

I barely bothered him a glace, “I have a name.” 

“But your nicknames are so unique to you. Don’t you love them?”

“Can’t say I do.” I walked away, not interested in entertaining him any longer than I already had.

“Farewell, princess.” He fleeted me with a honey-like voice.

Suppressing an eye roll, I gripped the straps of my backpack, ecstatic to get away from him. The more time I spent away from him the better. The less time I was with him meant there was less of a chance for me to get attached to him. I refused to let that happen.

After I left the building I grabbed a coffee and walked to the library, bracing the cold weather. I only had one final left and I needed to make sure I studied enough. Just one last push before I was done for the semester. Taking the elevator up to the third floor, I saw a familiar face who smiled at me and I sat down at his table.

“Hey! How do you think you did on the final?” Lia asked me as I took my laptop out.

“Honestly I don’t know. I don’t want to say I passed because knowing my luck, if I do I’ll fail it. I knew the majority of the answers though, so there’s that.”

“That’s a positive.” She cocked her head, observing the way my eyes were glued to my laptop, “So what are you studying for now?”

“Criminal Psychology. I don’t take it until late tomorrow but I wanna get some studying in.”

“You’ve been studying for hours, you’ll be fine. Let’s just go shopping instead.”

My ears perked and I slowly raised my head, “Damn you. You know I’m not gonna turn you down.”

A wide smile formed on her face as she placed her hands behind her head, “What are friends for?”

“Oh don’t look so cocky.”

“Why not? I’m pretty sure I’ve won here. Now let’s get going.”

Lia stood up and slid on her backpack, a smile still plastered on her face. Just as I was placing my laptop in my own backpack I heard a string of male voices and a mention of my name.

I gave Lia a look and, curiosity taking over, I snuck closer to the direction of the voices to see a group of men at a table hid behind a large stack of bookshelves. There were four of them, not a one of them sitting properly in a chair. Two were sitting on top of the table, another with his legs propped on the table, the other sitting upon a backpack which itself was on a chair. I could only see two of their faces and didn’t recognize either.

“We’ve gotta invite the token good girl, right?” A tall man with dark hair smiled, leaning back on the table.

A man with distinct dimples, clad in all black scoffed, “Y/n? Like she’d go to a party anyway.”

“She might.” Hongjoong tiled his head, allowing me to see him, black earrings swaying as he looked at the man with dimples.

Oh. He’s there, too.

“She dresses like she still believes in the tooth fairy.” A man with a blonde ponytail scoffed, “You think she’s gonna come to a party with people like us?”

I grabbed Lia’s arm to prevent her from storming over. She was upset, I was too, but I wanted to keep listening. Still, I couldn’t deny the pang of hurt I felt as I looked down at my pink skirt and cropped top. Was it a crime to like the color pink?

And I thought I looked cute today...

“You should be the last person to judge someone over the way the dress, Yeosang. You never wear anything but black. If she likes it, then she likes it. Fuck you.” Hongjoong bit back.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I didn’t know why he defended me, maybe he was just defending fashion for fashion’s sake and it had nothing to do with me, but it was still nice of him.

Yeosang smiled, “Damn someone’s aggressive, huh? Someone might almost think you’ve got feelings for the girl.”

Hongjoong remained silent.

“Ooh is she still not reacting to your desperate attempts to woo her?”

Hongjoong quickly became defensive, “Listen, I’m not-”

“Okay we’re not getting into this. Just invite her, you never know what she’ll say.” The dark-haired man said to Hongjoong, “And invite her friend, too. She wouldn’t go alone.”

“Yeah that’s a fair point. I’ll talk to them next time I see them.”

I turned to face Lia, whispering in her ear, “Let’s go. Please.”

Her face told me that she would much rather confront them, but changed as my eyes began to water once more. She nodded and put an arm around me, leading me out of the library.

A tear fell down my cheek as we walked. I raised my hand to wipe my face when Lia did it for me. She pulled me into a tight hug, running her hands through my hair.

“Don’t you think for a second that you’re any less of amazing. Fuck them for not seeing it.”

As she spoke more tears began to fall and my breath hitched, “But-t they-”

“No. There’s no excuse for being shitty to you, especially when you haven’t done anything to wrong them.”

I nodded, trying my best to believe her and steady my breathing.

“What can I do for you? What can I do to help?”

Releasing Lia from my tight grip I stepped back and looked in her eyes, “Nothing. Let’s just go shopping.”

My friend nodded and slipped her hand into my own, something she would always do when I needed comfort. I squeezed her warm hand, following her footsteps as she led me to her car.

“So...you’re not gonna go to the party are you?”

“Yeah I don’t think so.”

She let out a hum in approval and nodded, opening the car door for me.

As much as I wanted to take my mind off of the boys’ words, I couldn’t. No amount of retail therapy seemed to help that. I knew Lia was doing her best to make me feel better and I felt a bit guilty for bringing down the mood. She scoffed when I told her, making eye contact and emphasizing that she simply wanted to make me feel better.

Sooner than I liked, we had to part. Lia had a class in thirty minutes and I had to help out in an on-campus activity. She gave me a tight hug and a small smile, bidding me adue.

I was the Vice President of our Activities Planning Board and as such was in charge of setting up an Academic Bowl for the competing students. Unfortunately, I was having trouble setting up the large tables and my small frame just made it harder. I was confident anyone around could see that I was struggling and I huffed, hoping no one would look my way. It didn’t help that I was outside in the middle of campus, where anyone just walking by could see me.

“Do you need any help?”

I turned to find Hongjoong with his dark backpack slung over his shoulder, a concerned look on his face. Had I not desperately needed help, I would have refused.

“Yeah I do. Hold this, will you?” I nodded at the opposite side of the table I was struggling to hold.

He appeared shocked that I accepted his offer, but I didn’t dwell on it and instead lifted the table. We worked in silence aside from a few words of instruction I gave him, and I was thankful for the lack of distraction. When we set up the last table I placed my hands on my hips, looking at the tables.

Hongjoong crossed his arms, “Why were you doing this alone?”

“No one else signed up to help for the Academic Bowl, so I did it myself.” He gave a confused look so I clarified my position.

“Of course you’re the Vice President.” Hongjoong muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I faced him, feeling slightly offended.

He shrugged, “I know you’re just involved in a lot. I’m not surprised.”

Ignoring his comment, I took the conversation another direction. “Why did you help me?”

“You needed help, princess.” He answered simply.

I nodded, ignoring the nickname. “Well...thanks.”

A moment of silence followed until Hongjoong broke it, “Hey listen, there’s a party this weekend I want you to go.”

“Why?” I cocked my head.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t know anyone that will be there.”

“You know me.”

“That’s not exactly an incentive.”

He scoffed in mock offense, “Okay first of all, ouch. Second, what if I sweeten the deal?”

My eyebrows raised, lips forming a smile, “Oh yeah? What could that possibly be?”

He faltered for a moment, his voice lowering seemingly without intent, “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. You’re beautiful.”

I turned from him, trying to will any semblance of a flustered expression off my face. “You were saying before?”

Hongjoong chuckled, “I’ll drive. You can even invite your friend if you want.”

“Lia?”

“Yeah. If it makes you more comfortable.”

At first, I wanted to say no. At first, I wanted to continue my streak of refusing any advance he made on me. But looking at his kind eyes, completely devoid of any malintent, I felt my heart flutter. When my mind thought back to how he had defended me in the library I felt a warmth bubbling in my chest. I pretended to ponder for a moment, even though I already knew my answer.

“Okay but I don’t...I don’t think I should tell Lia.”

“Why’s that?”

“She kinda hates you.”

He looked taken aback, “Might I ask why?”

I sighed, crossing my arms, “Don’t worry about it. So where is this party?”

He filled me in on the details and I did my best to keep up my neutral façade. I wouldn’t admit it, but I was ecstatic to see him outside of campus, my will of staying away from him faltering by the minute.

-

I stood in front of my closet for what seemed like hours, desperately trying to find something that would match the occasion. I laughed a bit to myself as I looked at the section of black clothes I had. I went through a bit of an emo phase in middle school and I just couldn’t bring myself to get rid of any of them. I debated avoiding black clothes all together, but the words of Yeosang rang in my head and I bit the inside of my cheek.

Fine. I’ll change it up. But I’ll be damned if I give up on pink.

Taking a deep breath I slipped into a light pink leather skirt reaching mid-thigh with black fishnets. I put on a black leather jacket over my black see through shirt exposing my lacy bra underneath, my pink shoes on last.

I took several deep breaths and observed myself in the mirror. It was a change, definitely. I didn’t mind black, but I wouldn’t wear just black alone. I wanted it to be more feminine.

I heard a car horn outside my apartment much sooner than I expected. Bracing for Hongjoong’s reaction, I stepped outside. I was greeted with a smug smile, the man adorning it seeming as confident as a god until he observed my clothes, his eyebrows raising.

Hongjoong’s eyes scanned over me, taking in my abrupt fashion change, “I still wasn’t entirely certain you’d go. Much less looking like this.”

My lips quirked into half-smile, “Well I can’t show up looking like I normally do.”

“Why not?”

My heart swelled at the genuine confusion evident on his face. “Some people don’t care for the way I dress.” I took a breath and continued, “I heard you and your friends in the library.”

I forced myself to look him in the eyes. I could see the gears turning in his head as he put the pieces together, a scowl forming on his face. “You don’t have to change a goddamn thing. You look great, don’t get me wrong, but you look great in pink, too. And I’m sorry if he made you feel otherwise.”

I shook my head. “It’s alright, I actually kinda like it.”

“You definitely make it work.” He swallowed, voice lowering.

“Then maybe I should wear a bit of black more often.”

The man gave a thousand dollar smile, quirking a brow that left my panties feeling slightly damp. He motioned to the car door, “Hop in, cutie.”

A friendly string of conversation followed us as Hongjoong drove. I felt my nerves starting to dissipate, his smile I once despised now bringing me comfort. And really, he was much funnier than I had believed. I found myself laughing with him more than I had in a long time. I knew my walls were falling, but I wasn’t trying to fight it anymore.

Why the hell not? He’s kind enough, and he isn’t even close to being hard on the eyes.

The car drive was much quicker than I expected, although how quickly I was unfamiliar with my surroundings through me for a loop. The trees around us became more sporadic and the sun set quicker than what seemed normal. I fidgeted slightly, prompting Hongjoong to look over at me. He intertwined my fingers with his own and I smiled, secretly welcoming his touch.

“Hey, don’t worry. I’m right here with you, okay?”

I nodded, grasping onto his hand tightly. Before I knew it, my eyes locked with the building in front of us. I took in the abandoned building in front of me, eyes widening slightly as I observed its poor condition. Large windows were shattered, vines were growing around pillars, grass peaking through what once was concrete.

“This is the most sketchy place I’ve ever seen in my life.” I spoke, feeling slightly alarmed by the building but comforted by Hongjoong’s presence.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”

“I literally just saw a rat run out a broken window.”

Hongjoong suppressed a smile and let go of my hand, opening his car door and telling me to stay in place as he walked around and opened the door on my side. I hesitated as I exited the car, a bit afraid of what could possibly be inside the building.

“We can leave at anytime. If you don’t want to go in we can leave right now. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

As sweet as he was being, I felt the need to prove to him that I was brave enough to enter, even if it did look like he was leading me to my death.

“Thank you, but I’m okay. We can go in.”

He smiled, leading me to an out-of-the-way entrance which seemed to lead to a different building entirely. I gave an involuntary “woah” as we entered the building. As horrific as it looked on the outside, it was gorgeous on the inside. Perfectly up kept brick walls hugged the sides of the building, lights were strung from the ceiling, arcade machines and dart boards were huddled in a corner, and of course, there was a bar with a seemingly unlimited amount of liquor. People were scattered all throughout, socializing and being generally loud. Everyone wore about the same color clothes as Hongjoong, dark as they could possibly get.

“How did you even find this place?”

“My friend Yeosang and I were just driving around and we found it one day. Decided to make it our hangout spot.”

I looked at him confused, still amazed at my surroundings. Hongjoong led me over to his familiar group of friends, assuring me that they wouldn’t bite, and introduced me to the seven men, four of which I hadn’t seen prior. I saw the color drain from a few of their faces as they saw me, likely from their words in the library, but I didn’t comment on it. Overall, they were much friendlier than I expected them to be.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” Hongjoong nudged me, “You want anything?”

“No that’s okay. I think I’m gonna check out the pinball machines. They look kinda cool.”

“You sure you don’t wanna stay by my side? I won’t take long.”

I shook my head, “I’ll be okay.”

He chucked, “Alright. I’ll grab a drink and I’ll head right over, princess.”

I bit my lip at the nickname and wandered over to the machines, surprisingly feeling comfortable in the environment, despite everything being so unfamiliar. All of the games were being used, some people clearly playing better than others.

I got lost in the artwork on the side of a particular pinball machine when a gruff voice caught my attention. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here?”

I turned to meet a tall man with grey hair. He was young, likely in his mid-twenties, and reeked of cigarettes and a foul smell I couldn’t place.

A flash of fear ran through me and I tried to make my voice as confident as possible, “I was invited.”

“Well...that’s certainly a shame now, isn’t it? I wasn’t invited, but I decided to show up for a bit of fun anyway.”

He came closer to me, our height difference incredibly prominent as he leaned over me, “How about you give me a kiss, little thing?” I ran away as soon as the words left his mouth, hoping that he wouldn’t follow me but assuming he would. I dashed around quickly and sporadically around people, hoping I would lose him.

I looked around desperately for Hongjoong, sighing when I found him surrounded by his friends, laughing at something one of them said. I ran up to him and grabbed his arm, gaining his attention.

I hope this fucking works.

“I need you to kiss me.”

A look of confusion flashed in his eyes, “What?”

“Please kiss me.” I begged, eyes wide, disregarding the stares of his friends around us, hoping that if the man saw I was taken he’d leave me alone.

Without hesitation he wrapped his free hand around my waist—a cup of alcohol still in the other—and pulled me close, pressing his lips to my own. He kissed me hard, biting my bottom lip slightly and letting out a growl only I could hear. He wasn’t my first kiss, far from it, but no one had ever kissed me like he did. Just a kiss had never left me feeling weak at the knees. Just a kiss had ever made me feel so submissive, making me want to beg him to take me right on the spot, regardless of the fear in my veins. Even with the taste of alcohol still on his lips, his scent overtook me.

He pulled back, eyes darker than before, and raised a brow, “Care to tell me what that was about?”

Just then I realized my hands had been gripping his leather coat, pulling him just as close as he was pulling me. I looked over in the direction of where the man was before, not seeing him.

“A man was following me and he was trying to get me to kiss him a-and I didn’t know him...I just wanted him to leave me alone.”

His eyes narrowed at my words, a rage I hadn’t seen before taking over them, “What did he look like?”

“I-I don’t know he was tall and had grey hair and-”

He cursed under his breath. Keeping me just as close he turned to the men around him, their eyes narrowed as well.

“You heard that?” He asked his friends.

“Loud and clear.” San said, cracking his knuckles, a scowl on his face that scared me, even though I knew I wasn’t the one it was directed at.

“I thought we told him to never come back here.” Jongho snarled.

“We did.” Hongjoong said.

Seonghwa looked at me, nodding to Hongjoong, “Keep her safe and take her out of here. If he’s here I’m sure he’s brought friends. Yeosang, lead everyone out. We’ll take care of him.”

Hongjoong looked conflicted, obviously wanting to stay and fight, but gave into the older man’s command. “Be fucking safe,” he barked, but I could see the fear in his eyes as he looked at me, “Come on, we’re going.”

Seonghwa mumbled something to Hongjoong and he nodded in response, tossing his alcohol to the ground. I didn’t have time to ask questions as he led me out a back door, the darkness of the night equally horrifying and comforting, and quickly pushed me into his car, apologizing the entire time. He entered the key into the ignition and the car sprung to life.

“Uhh...maybe it’s not a good idea for you to drive. You’ve been drinking, right?”

“I had maybe two sips. I’ll drive safe, promise.”He gave me a small comforting smile, “Put your seatbelt on. Hold on tight, sweetheart.” His voice was calm but firm as he spoke. I nodded and did as he said, bracing as his car sped off, my heart beating in overtime.

The ride was a blur, the only things I could remember being Hongjoong’s calming voice, periodically reassuring me that things would be okay. We arrived at a foreign building which Hongjoong called his house, and only then did I let myself fall apart. I felt tears streaming down my face as my hands quivered, my head beginning to pound.

“Hey, hey look at me. You’re safe. You’re safe with me.” My teary eyes met his and I felt my heart break at the way he was looking at me, as if he had made me cry himself.

“Here, come on. Let’s get you inside, okay?”

My tears slowed as he carefully led me inside his house, sitting me down on his bed. He crouched down in front of me, wiping the tears from my face.

“I’m so sorry, princess. I didn’t realize he was going to be there. I never should’ve made you come along I’m so-”

“Who was that?”

Hongjoong sighed, “He used to be a friend of mine. We had a falling out and he became violent. One time he showed up at one of our parties with some friends of his to start a fight. We won and told him to never come back. Looks like he did.” He looked off into nowhere, regret clear on his face.

“You didn’t know,” I sniffled, “You couldn’t have known.”

I watched the muscles in his jaw tighten, his agitation still visible. I brought a hand out to reach his own, trying to comfort him. The loud ding of Hongjoong’s phone made me jump and he apologized profusely. As he took out his phone from his pants pocket I looked around his room for the first time. It looked exactly as I had expected, solid black furniture and so many band posters decorating the wall I could hardly tell what color his bedroom walls were.

Hongjoong spoke up, “I just got a text from Seonghwa. There were two other people there with him. My friends took care of them don’t worry, you’re safe.”

I nodded, pulling him into a hug and burying my face into his chest. “If you’re comfortable with it,” He started, “I’d like you to stay here. I want to know you’re safe.”

My eyes met his as he moved a hair out of my face, “I’m not pressuring you. If you don’t want to I understand.”

A hand of his ran up and down my back, tracing little patterns here and there, and I realized just how much I wanted to be with him.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to stay.”

He laughed, “What do you mean ‘if it’s alright with you’ I asked.”

I bit my bottom lip and looked down, a bit embarrassed.

Hongjoong laughed, “Hey, look at me.” He said in a commanding yet sweet tone that made my thighs press together. I glanced back up at him, his handsome features making me feel dizzy.

He chuckled, “What’s that look for? You got something to say to me?”

I hesitated, “Actually, I do have a question.”

“Which is?”

“Why did you chase after me?”

Hongjoong smiled, “You never gave a reaction to anything I tried. It confused me and piqued my curiosity. So I began to watch you and how you interacted with people. You’re gentle and sweet. You’re innocent and haven’t let the world tear you down. I admire that.”

He leaned closer to me, his lips brushing my ear, “And it turned me on beyond belief. I wondered how I could ruin you, thought about how I could turn you into a quivering mess as you beg for me.”

I shivered and pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes. His beautiful, dark eyes. Hongjoong let out a dark chuckle as he sat on his bed, lifting me on his lap. He gave an eyebrow raise and a crooked smile as my breath hitched while looking at him, taking him in.

How did I never notice how his dark hair falls to one side when he cocks his head and how he looks so endearing when it happens? How did I never pay attention to his soft pink lips that give way to his gorgeous smile and how much I’ve been dying to kiss them all this time? How did I not see the way his eyes form crescents when he smiles, making my heart grow ten times over?

Why did I never think to take note of how his deep voice makes my stomach do somersaults? Why was I so unaware of his tongue piercing that was leaving me wonder how it would feel on my skin? Why didn’t I observe the black painted nails of his that were currently dancing along my thighs, giving me goosebumps?

How and why did I never notice him?

“You’re such a good girl.”

And for the first time around him, I flushed.

He chuckled, “Oh? You like that?”

I nodded quickly and he said it again, smiling as my face heated up once more.

“It’s so good to see you react to what I say. I wonder...” Hongjoong leaned closer to me, “How will you react when you’re underneath me? Squirming and begging for me to touch you?”

I gave him a look of desperation and balled his shirt into my fist, trying to move him closer, “Please.”

Hongjoong lifted me off of him, quickly discarding my clothes followed by his own shirt. My eyes were guided down by his abs and I ran a hand across them without thinking, whimpering quietly.

“Is my baby girl getting needy?” He cooed.

I closed my eyes, once again nodding in embarrassment.

“How about we take care of that?”

He laid me down on the soft sheets of his bed, leaving me in anticipation as he pinned my hands above my head with a hand of his own. My eyes widened and he chuckled, running a single finger along my folds.

“You’re so unbelievably fucking wet...do I turn you on that much?”

I let out a small “yes” and he hummed in response. Placing a few kisses upon my lips, Hongjoong slowly entered two fingers into me and my back arched. His fingers curled, hitting a spot inside of me that’d I’d never been able to reach. I spread my legs as far as they could go, pleading for more, feeling tears prick my eyes.

Hongjoong spoke, his voice already dropping several octaves, “Keep your hands here, understand? I don’t want you moving them.”

I nodded, willing my hands to stay in place as his own moved to my hips, leaving kisses along my inner thighs.

“Hongjoong please.”

“Please what, princess?”

“Please touch me.”

“Oh, I think I can do better than that, don’t you?”

His lips attached to my core, tongue running through my folds and nose hitting my clit as I moaned pathetically. His hands held my hips down as I tried to buck them up, barely able to keep my hands above my head. After what felt like years, his mouth finally reached my clit and I cried out as his lips attached to it, sucking hard and leaving kitten licks. My high built up quickly and I came hard, my hands leaving their spot and pulling slightly on his hair.

“Thought I told you to keep your hands above your head, no?”

I mumbled an apology and he leaned over to kiss me, “You’re forgiven, darling.”

He seemed just as impatient as I was and without much begging the rest of his clothes were off, his dick teasing my entrance.

“God Hongjoong please I need you so bad.”

“I need you too, y/n.”

He fully entered me, cursing as he did so. I was so caught up in the feeling of him inside of me that I didn’t even register him asking me a question until he laughed at me.

“Feeling good, baby? Can’t even speak?”

I whimpered, nodding seeming to be the only thing I could manage to do. I felt his member twitch inside of me and I pleaded for him to fuck me, to give me anything. Hongjoong growled and jerked his hips up into me over and over, leaving me a moaning mess.

“Taking me so well, aren’t you? Such a good girl for me.”

The amount of praise he gave me caused a few tears to fall from my eyes, not realizing how bad I needed it until that moment. My walls clenched around him every time, causing him to groan and snap his hips into me even harder. Hongjoong’s eyes grew hazy, his dark hair sticking to his forehead.

“I’m close, darling. Be my good girl and cum for me”

His hand trailed down to my clit, rubbing tiny circles. My back arched as I came in time with him, our breaths synchronizing as we gasped for air.

He slowly pulled out of me and ran to the bathroom to grab a towel, cleaning me up. Hongjoong giggled and I raised a brow at him.

“I never thought you’d give me a chance. It’s almost like I’ve corrupted you.”

“You have. Aren’t you aware of the party I went to because of you? I almost died.”

Hongjoong laughed as he crawled into bed and pulled blankets over the both of us. He ran a hand through my hair, looking at me fondly, “You did not almost die.”

“Okay yeah but I could have. That’s what we should be focusing on here.”

“I think there’s something else I’d like to focus on.”

Hongjoong pulled me into a deep kiss, hand slithering down to my waist. His kisses trailed to my ear, a slight chuckle leaving his lips, “My pretty princess.”

I looked at him with doe eyes, slightly in awe of him, and wondered how I could’ve pushed him away for so long. I knew for certain that I had no intention of doing so ever again.

When I told him he smiled, “Good. You’ve had a grip on my heart since day one. I’d be a fool to let you get away from me.”

I blushed slightly, much to his entertainment. We snuggled up to each other in silence, listening to the sound of our synchronized breathing as I lulled to sleep, our warm fingers intertwined. My dreams filled of him.

“Sleep well, my princess. I’ll be right here when you wake.”

[kiribakuficrecs]

hello!!! im going on a very long trip at the end of april and I'm looking for some very long fics to download to keep me entertained! i dont care what they're about as long as there's no major character death or mentions of non-con. ur blog is a godsend ilysm and you do such a good job thank you so much 🙏

hi there!! i definitely have a lot of good lengthy fics i can recommend to you!

quote love unquote by newamsterdam 

Sero nods. “It’s the chance of a lifetime, really,” he says. “We want you to date Bakugou, for the sake of his reputation with the press. Some public appearances, a few ‘candid’ photos. For at least a couple of months.”

“Bakugou sent you to ask me to date him?” Kirishima asks, baffled.

“Of course not. We, his people, are asking you to date him. He’s going to have to get on board, if he wants his career to survive. And in the bargain, Riot will get all sorts of publicity, because their lyricist will be dating one of the industry’s hottest stars. A win for everyone.”

When Kirishima Eijirou's band hits the big time, he's not prepared for his newfound fame. He's even less prepared to meet the actor he's been crushing on for years, or to start dating him as a publicity stunt. The closer Kirishima gets to Bakugou Katsuki, the more he realizes he's in over his head. But it's hard to stop, once his heart is in it.

acceptance and denial by poteto

It all goes okay when Kirishima decides to come out to his friends and it all goes wrong when decides that Bakugou is the best fake boyfriend material.

cause the darks not taking prisoners tonight by imatrisarahtops

“Are those soba noodles?” Kirishima asked.

Again Bakugou’s only reply was a grunt. He offered no further explanation—not that Kirishima honestly expected one—as though making soba noodles from scratch at half past four in the morning wasn’t at all a bizarre occurrence and made complete and total sense. For a fleeting moment, Kirishima even wondered if maybe he was the odd one here. Besides, he’d already decided it was generally not in his best interest to question these types of things with Bakugou, especially when it was something essentially harmless.

When Kirishima has a nightmare and is unable to fall back asleep, he accepts defeat and decides to study in the common area of the dorms. What he doesn't expect to find is Bakugou, also very much awake, and Kirishima can't help but think that maybe they're both having the same problems with sleeping. If he's worried, it's just because they're friends. (Right?)

the weight of your hand by kamin

That night, to the citizens, the explosions were a jolt of fear at every blast, but to the heroes and the students of UA, they were punches and swings, fierce fighting and loud strength. The explosions were the pulse of the battle, and the power of a boy that would never back down.

One after another, explosions set a chorus through the shuddering city.

And then, suddenly—the explosions stopped.

(In which Bakugou’s kidnapping goes a little differently, and just a few seconds could change so much.)

so take my hand (your life will be brighter) by multiclassmaps

When a stranger shows up at the ice rink during Bakugou's usually private training sessions, Bakugou expects to hate him. He doesn't expect to develop feelings that become increasingly difficult to deny, or for them to help each other sort through their emotional baggage. - Bakugou really didn't like Kirishima's smile. There was something about it that made his stomach hurt, something about it that made it difficult to focus. He definitely hadn't thought about that smile on his way to the ice rink that day. He definitely hadn't.

distance makes the heart grow fonder (false) by dragontrappedinhumanskin

When Bakugo and Kirishima get hit by a quirk that forces them to literally stick together or face the less then desirable consequences, how the fuck is Bakugo supposed to keep his crush hidden?! Well, turns out he never needed to.

-- “Well, this fucking sucks, how are we supposed to train?!” "Really closely?"

perihelion by tauontauoff

Bakugou was a comet, blazing out of reach. Kirishima knew he was stupidly lucky that his furious trajectory went by close enough that his fingertips got to graze the cowl of fire. It was enough.

During Christmas Class 1A and 1B spend a laid-back week learning about extreme environment hero work in the Alps. Kirishima was used to keeping part of his feelings for Bakugou hidden, and had every intention of keeping it that way, but things don't always go according to plan.

fight me by mr_todoroki

Bright red, spiky hair. Annoyingly bright smile. Clothes that radiate ‘look at me’ vibes. Neon yellow tank top with black shorts. And those were definitely crocs on his fucking feet.

Yeah, Katsuki hated this guy.

-

Bakugou gets a new roommate.

quietly by chezka

“We’ve been taking the same way to and from school for weeks,” Kirishima grinned, and then when Bakugou frowned at him he put on an affected pout, tilted his head so that he was looking at him through his thick, long lashes, “you never noticed? Am I that easy to miss?”

He could barely finish the sentence before a laugh escaped his lips, and Bakugou rolled his eyes, hit him with a shoulder a little more violently than necessary.

“You stick out like a sore thumb, broom-head,” he grumbled, promptly ignoring Kirishima's whining about his hairstyle when it started coming, “I didn’t notice ‘cause I didn’t care.”

“And now you do?”

everyone knows that cats are independent by purplepersnickety

Eijirou enjoys his job, working the graveyard shift at a 24/7 coffee shop. His daemon Riot is always there to keep him company, and he likes meeting the early-morning patrons and giving them the best possible kick-start to their day. It's been his routine for about a year now.

Then one day, a grouchy guy with a daemon in the form of a lion walks into the shop in the dead of night, and Eijirou decides to strike up a conversation with him.

punks not dead by wrunic

“So you want to use me to piss off your mom?” Kirishima summarized, raising one pierced eyebrow at Katsuki.

“Look, if you want to be all fucking judgy about it, I take cash,” Katsuki said, dropping his hand palm up on the table.

“Hey now,” Kirishima said, raising his hands in surrender, “I didn’t say I wasn’t doing it. I’m always down for a little chaos.” He flashed a grin, showing off his ridiculous shark teeth.

“Good,” Katsuki said. “We start tomorrow."

sent, delivered, read, loved by kiribakuhappiness

Kirishima E. [6.49pm]: ur okay for such an angry dude bakugou! :)

Bakugou K. [7.12pm]: FUCK YOU!

Kirishima E. [7.14pm]: haha! :D ttyl!

Bakugou K. [7.48pm]: FUCKING WHAT DO THOSE DUMB LETTERS MEAN???

Bakugou K. [7.52pm]: I JUST LOOKED IT UP DONT FUCKING TALK TO ME LATER!

Bakugou K. [7.52pm]: STOP TXTING ME!!!

- OR -

Bakugou's and Kirishima's relationship develops from classmates to friends to more, as told through their text conversations.

flicker by mr_todoroki

He was starting to feel depressed. Life was so uninteresting. It was so mundane and forgettable. He had no one to hang out with besides Kota, his family didn’t even live in the city.

He grew his hair out as some sort of rebellion, some sort of stand to make his life the slightest bit more interesting. But he could already feel himself giving in to the pressure of cutting it. He needed to work to live. Without a job, he’d truly have nothing.

OR

Kirishima never applied to UA, therefore never became a hero.

let’s get down to business by kjelfalconer

Katsuki Bakugou, one of the brightest rising stars on wall street, is in need of a new personal assistant. Again. Could Eijirou Kirishima finally be the one to last more than two months?

Katsuki's long suffering HR department sure hope so.

something about us by bigstupidjellyfish

nothing like being in highschool and having no idea how to deal with emotions

fireproof by inkbender

Four years after a classmate nobody seems to remember is kidnapped by the League of Villains, Kirishima drags an amnesiac hobo he found washed up on the beach into his apartment, attempts to teach him how to adult (with varying degrees of success), and discovers along the way that the line between heroism and villainy is quite fine indeed. Plot-divergent after episode 45, the Forest Training Camp arc.

blood riot by magicallee (alternatively)

Kirishima from a universe with no quirks is mind-swapped with an alternate universe version of himself where there are superpowers.

And in that universe he’s a super villain.

And Bakugou is the superhero who caught Evil-Kirishima and put him in prison.

blindside by drowclericpelor

“You’re the first guy friend I’ve had that I can just like, be friends with. You’re either the most unthirstiest boy ever...” Camie shrugged and made another wobbly illusion appear between her hands. It looked like a sparkly rainbow with the word ‘friendship’ beneath it, accompanied by what Bakugou assumed was supposed to be a twinkling sound effect, but it had a tinny quality to it and sounded far away. “...or I just ain’t got the kinda straw you like to ssssip.”

Carefully, Bakugou considered the strange turn this conversation had taken.

He had never been asked, point blank, if he was gay before. And he honestly had never thought about how he would respond. Lying about himself didn’t sit right with him. But he’d always wanted to wait until he was the number one hero - when he stood above everyone else - before coming out. Though he’d had times when he’d thought about doing it before then and had almost gone through with it once. But being the number one hero came first. It wouldn’t matter what people would say about it then as long as he’d risen to the top.

Bakugou knew his lack of a response would give Camie all the answers she needed.

flour power by wingsonghalo

“I’m telling you now, Shitty Hair,” the blonde growled, “I am not gonna play house with you. We will cart this stupid flour around for a week like the assignment says. But some of our idiot classmates are naming the thing and setting up ‘playdates’ and dressing it and I am not doing anything that stupid. Got it?”

Kirishima and Bakugou are paired up to take care of a flour sack for a week. It would be so simple, except nothing with Bakugou is ever simple. Also Kirishima might be kinda sorta completely head over heels for him.

sunchaser by chonideno

that feeling when you suddenly want to jump off a cliff for no reason but instead of a cliff it’s your best friend and instead of jumping it’s growing feelings out of nowhere

or how Bakugou has to try really hard not to throw everything to the wind, and Kirishima doesn't help

i also have a tag specifically for fics that reach somewhere between 30k-70k words long if you wanted to check that out as well! i hope you enjoy the fics here and that i was able to help, ily enjoy your trip!!! :D 

[love-takes-work]

Steven Universe: End of an Era: Outline & Review

I wrote this review in October but never got around to posting it here

Steven Universe: End of an Era is far more than an art book–it’s also a collection of behind-the-scenes material, stories about the experience of working on the show, planning documents and associated background info, and both older versions of developed concepts AND concepts that never made it into the show. It's a huge fusion of all those elements, and it's definitely an experience!

Some low-quality images are included with my review just to give you an idea of what’s there--it’s not a good substitute for getting your own copy, but here’s a tour!

Like the previous concept art book, Art and Origins, I'll be giving you a description of the structure and overview, while also collecting notable information for fans. Obviously just about everything is "notable" once again, but I'll aim for unique insight or perspective on the main source material, keeping the screaming about everything new to a minimum so you can also enjoy something for yourself if you pick it up. My low-quality photos should prevent people from feeling like I'm reproducing the book in any capacity. Please grab one while you can and have your own experience!

[SU Book and Comic Reviews]

OVERVIEW

The book is titled "End of an Era" for a couple reasons--obviously because it is released after the show has wrapped, but also because Gem history recently ended its "Era 2" and began Era 3--an age of prosperity and peace. The author--the person in charge of adapting all of this information into this slick, readable package--is Chris McDonnell, whose work was previously applied on the Art and Origins book.

The foreword is by N.K. Jemisin, a well-known science fiction author who's a huge fan of the show (and wrote a really excellent series that also has a weird geological connection, by the way).

And the cover, like its predecessor, is shiny and decorated with a beach scene featuring minimalistic characters--this time it's the Gems at night in front of the Temple, and on the back cover is a big pink leg ship in a cross-legged pose.

The interior covers are decorated with tons of amazing sketches of Steven and Connie on the front, and a bunch of Gem sketches on the back. Every interior page that most would leave blank is highlighted with some kind of sketch art or character exercise--it's so much to look at, so much to absorb.

The book is dedicated "For Eddie."

Its organization is different from the previous book in that it shares applicable work in chunks associated with groups of episodes rather than pertaining to different aspects of building the show.

FOREWORD

N.K. Jemisin gives us such a great introduction to the book--apparently understanding very well that the audience of this book is full of animation enthusiasts and adult fans more than it is full of kids, and explaining that bewildering journey some adults had from blowing this show off as a silly kid thing to falling in love with it hard and fast.

The important thing, Jemisin says, is being able to trust a storyteller with your heart. And it was clear to her that Rebecca Sugar knew what she was talking about and was saying important things about identity and the radical power that comes with accepting it and demanding respect.

Important also is how we handle heroes and who gets to be one in fantasy. That's part of the reason Steven Universe speaks to so many--because we see ourselves here, and know stories can be about us. Acknowledging the power we all have to MAKE THINGS BETTER with what we fight for is so important--especially if we're going to speaking to the next generation about it.

Highlighting Rose Quartz as a "born leader" who failed and Steven as a relatable scamp who did what she couldn't, Jemisin asserts that we can save the world.

1. END OF AN ERA

We start with an appeal to the audience to think about identity and the formative parts of our childhood--and how different it is if who you are and who you become is restricted, mocked, erased, or Not Allowed. Most people, if not ALL people, can relate to this, but for those of us with a special relationship with Steven Universe because of queer identity, this hits hard.

But it doesn't have to be anything grand to be something we respect--this show's authenticity comes largely from how personal everything is, drawn from real-life experiences and incidental truths from each artist's perspective, leaning hard on childhood and formative experiences.

Rebecca Sugar offers some interview bits to discuss writing philosophy and why "writing female characters" was difficult for a nonbinary person who'd been socialized as a girl and a woman. Rebecca has spoken before about how frustrating it is that marketing for cartoons was SO gendered when she was growing up (and to some extent still is).

The Gems in the story are all "she/her," but on their planet they're defined by their work, not by emotion or relationships (unlike women in our society), so having them be socialized opposite to how she was and be able to claim those emotions through choice and NOT as just an expectation "as women" was revolutionary. Rebecca wants her show to tell all marginalized people that they don't deserve to be in the margins.

Weighing in on other aspects of the show were Ian Jones-Quartey, Joe Johnston, and Miki Brewster. Ian describes feeling like at first doing SU was a thrill ride that meant they'd finally get to do all the cool stuff, but it quickly became a responsibility that he took very seriously--the need to tell a good story now that he'd been given a megaphone.

Promotional art, planning documents, character sketches, and concept art from the lighthearted to the stone serious is included, along with some very cool (sort of famous) timeline charts that track major characters' developments. It's emphasized by Rebecca that the developmental materials ARE NOT CANON (and especially are not MORE canon) compared the final show.

There are concept sketches alongside final art for Aquamarine and Topaz in "Wanted" (with Topaz labeled "Imperial Topaz"), the Zircons in "The Trial," Blue and Yellow Diamond, and the Off Colors (including Pink Lars).

And there's also a spread of "the two sides of Steven's life: Gem Magic and Rock N Roll" featuring Sadie Killer and the Suspects (referred to as "Buck's band")--as well as a cool "Crew Cameos" key and some concepts for short-haired Connie.

And then there's some more "finished" art with stills alongside concepts, including some background art, revision, and really cool "fairytale" art from some of the shadowplay storytelling bits. We get "Lars of the Stars," "Jungle Moon," and "Can't Go Back."

2. THE BEGINNING OF THE END: A SINGLE PALE ROSE

In discussing the huge reveals and Gem mysteries in the show, the pacing is examined, and emphasis is put on the intended "slow burn." One of the most difficult things in the show was to strategize so that every piece that was needed to support another piece in the future was placed properly to seed what it was supposed to.

Some of the ideas they developed were more of a group effort and were fit together collaboratively (like Amethyst's being younger than the other Gems and Jasper being from Earth), while others were intended from the beginning based on Rebecca's vision (the fundamental idea of Pink Diamond's true identity, for instance, as well as Obsidian's design and sword and our Pearl not being Pink's first).

The writing process gets a great deep dive here, including fun tidbits like how the orb in the moon base was inserted by Joe Johnston and they literally had no idea what it was for when they wrote the episode. They repurposed it when they figured out what they needed.

Rebecca credits her detailed timelines for helping keep the order straight, and discusses how other artists are sometimes flabbergasted that a storyboard-driven show can have this much detail and continuity and yet not get wrecked by the free non-scripted boarding process. But Rebecca and the Crew valued that approach and loved the way fresh eyes would handle an idea, making it come back alive, entertaining, vivid.

Several Crew members weigh in on the writing process. Lauren Hecht refers to making lots of incorrect guesses despite being on the inside. Joe Johnston recalled getting briefed on his first day and getting so excited to start working on this massive project.

Miki Brewster remembered being told Rose Quartz is Pink Diamond and being shocked--and also confused about why Ruby and Sapphire would need to be married if they're already basically married. Drew Green talks about being brought in late and getting to watch unaired episodes and a rough of the movie while eating cereal.

Ian Jones-Quartey complains about Pink Diamond's real jester-like form being leaked to the internet through a Hot Topic shirt. Rebecca piggybacks on that and says it was upsetting that the wedding was leaked because of toy fair keychains featuring Ruby and Sapphire in wedding attire. They'd always be worried about leaks, and sometimes Rebecca struggled not to talk about the reality of Pink Diamond before the reveal because she knew it would make so much more sense once the truth was out. And everything associated with Rose makes more sense once you know she's Pink--especially what happened with Bismuth, considering what we know about how Pink Diamond has a habit of treating anyone who no longer serves her interests.

When it comes to visual cues, Rebecca also talks about intentional designs to create a feeling of unity between concepts, like the flower shapes on Pink Diamond's palanquin lining up with the poofs of Steven's hair and the star imagery of the series. Steven Sugar and Mary Nash discuss how the Human Zoo incorporated this imagery, trying to look like Homeworld with a Pink Diamond touch.

Steven Sugar, as a game nerd, liked to throw in video game references from old and modern stuff to feel like he's inserting what he's enjoying and who he is from moment to moment, while Mary Nash, who related to Sadie as a basement-dwelling young person with cult interests, liked to include stuff from MST3K and cult movies. Pearl's hand gestures get a spotlight too--her reflex to cover her mouth when Pink Diamond was being discussed was analyzed here.

A "Top Secret Visual Timeline" from 2016 is included which tells us some Diamond history. It has an earlier version of Pink Pearl's fate and does not include Spinel since the movie hadn't been greenlit. The timeline includes the birth of the Diamonds, the emergence and major story beats for each major character, and some philosophy of the driving force behind each.

We're told that Pink Diamond straightened up, behavior-wise, after she lost her first Pearl, and that Yellow and Blue wanted to give her a planet but White only agreed to it to prove she would fail at managing a colony. Pearl, meanwhile, is so confused to have a Diamond who keeps asking her what she thinks when she doesn't believe she should have opinions.

And when Pink moonlighted as Rose to start conflict, she found herself leading an army to fight Pink's troops--then Yellow's, and eventually Blue's too. Lapis is said to be waiting for the conflict to end on Earth so she can terraform, but she gets trapped instead.

Pearl's love story with Rose is described as "an endless honeymoon" where she's free to love her, while Rose's is more like "I'm now the head of the family and I'm going to give everyone what they never had, so everyone is super special!"

Jasper is described as "adopted" into Yellow's army as the only successful Beta Quartz. And White Diamond knew that Pink Diamond was not dead--she thought she was just running away from home like a brat and would eventually be back.

3. THE HEART OF THE CRYSTAL GEMS

Now we discuss Rose Quartz--the original Pink Diamond. How she was selfish and selfless, never enough and always too much, and how Greg was her first partner who "challenged her" to be an equal. Rebecca describes Rose as being delighted by the idea that both she and Greg reinvented themselves, but when that leads her to want to share her past, Greg isn't interested--he only wants to know who she is now, and doesn't consider the old her to be her.

Rebecca likes Carl Jung's concept of "enantiodromia," which is the idea that extremes lead to their extreme opposite. This is demonstrated in all of the Diamonds. This narrative is interspersed with drawings of Greg and Rose being cute.

But another "heart" of the Crystal Gems is its relationships--particularly, Garnet, the fairy tale romance embodied. More psychological theories are discussed with regard to differentiation in a relationship making the relationship stronger, and how they made sure that happened for Garnet during the appropriate arc. Rebecca has struggled with the idea that she, like Ruby, went straight from a "family" group to a living-with-others situation and never lived by herself. But she also learned that you can in fact develop as a person in the context of a relationship--you don't have to be alone to do it. Ruby learned that too, and chose on her own terms to be with Sapphire.

The wedding made so much sense to Rebecca and the crew that they couldn't imagine a wholesome couple like Ruby and Sapphire not having a wedding episode. They wanted it for years: The wedding concepts always included the tuxedo for Sapphire and the wedding dress for Ruby.

But pushback (often blamed on the conservative standards of the international market) led to negotiations trying to keep Ruby and Sapphire's relationship from being explicit. Rebecca and the Crew were very tired of this double standard, and they were especially irritated by attempts to claim a wedding wouldn't be well received by a core demographic or wouldn't make sense for Steven's character. But other shows had done weddings and Steven had been established to love weddings already.

Rebecca kept adding more elements to the wedding episode to answer all the concerns, but she didn't want to back down from explicit marriage between these characters. They deserved it. And the audience deserved to see this as wholesome, like any other cartoon wedding. Eventually they got their way and were allowed to have the wedding. But the ordered episodes were also coming to a close without promise of more, so Rebecca had to request more episodes to be able to wrap up the storyline!

And of course, there is Steven, the true heart of the team. A very interesting aside discusses Garnet's leadership and how the network pushed the Crewniverse to acknowledge Steven as the leader. This was successfully resisted throughout as well--because Garnet is the leader (unless she's incapacitated, of course). It's fantastic that this concept was preserved because too often a young male chosen one is elevated above people with more experience and knowledge because of that chosen one tradition, so it's really nice to have a show acknowledge that team leadership is more appropriate for an adult.

4. ERA 3

Beginning with a discussion of the Diamonds, this chapter deconstructs the dysfunctional "family" of the Diamonds (who are said to be based on tropes about evil stepmothers and stepsisters), with the thread of dysfunction originating with White Diamond.

Yellow is physical, Blue is emotional, White is judgmental, and Pink is impulsive. Some philosophy on why Pink is naturally manipulative and why she clashes so much with White is offered.

White believes her identity is to be imposed on all because she is the pinnacle of what should be--and therefore, she has the right to make decisions and statements about and on behalf of everyone. But her secret is that she can't do what the others do--act or feel or want. In trying to be everyone, she is no one.

And this becomes very important when she confronts Steven about his identity and turns out to be wrong. The triumph of Steven being totally, fully himself is a beautiful, simple revelation that's described as far more satisfying than the theories about Pink living inside him or Rose returning from his Gem.

Also discussed is Gem architecture. A lot went into this idea, and Steven Sugar weighs in to say he had to think of what it would mean for a world to have buildings but serve no human needs. That's why it's mostly focused on transport and storage. Even the broken planet is meant to indicate a place stripped for its resources, and everything serves a function that is meant to avoid looking like the human equivalents.

And there's another layer, too: a difference between Era 1 and Era 2. Era 2 became more functional to hide Era 1's broken bits, and older Homeworld buildings still have some "ornate and ancient" feel to them. And the fact that props, tools, and even walls and doors could be living was taken from a concept Rebecca thought was horrible from old Busby Berkeley movies, where people were inanimate objects and it was portrayed as lovely. Tom Herpich helped conceptualize these living objects.

Steven dealing with "princess tropes" is discussed here too. The Pebbles (worked on with Pendleton Ward) were sort of his Cinderella's mice, and all the locked-in-a-tower, having supportive tiny friends help you, getting princess clothes made, attending a ball, having to mind your manners stuff was intentionally related to fairy tales.

The point of doing that (besides fun) was to easily invoke the feeling that Steven was being made to be someone he's not, and that he was being treated like THIS is who he really is when it isn't. White Diamond as the "evil stepmother" is discussed with regard to her detailed features and massive scale. They generally didn't put fingernails and eyelashes on characters (especially not to indicate that they were women or girls!), but they decided White would get all of these feminine markers for tradition's sake.

Rebecca also invokes several other references that were included and describes the princess tropes as "chipping away at his integrity" setting him up for the final challenge with White.

There is again tons of concept art: Homeworld architecture, Pebbles, Diamond diagrams, background Jades and Lemon Jade Fusion, Comby, Diamond extraction chambers, and White Diamond.

5. CHANGE YOUR MIND

Now we finally begin to discuss Steven's identity. The "Perfect Steven," discussed in several interviews before this book's release, was an idea back in 2013; the "ultimate Steven," beefed up and shonen-looking, was far from perfect because OUR Steven is perfect, while this alpha hero Steven idea (used in Steven Universe Future) didn't belong being idolized in such a show.

They thought about having Steven fall apart into organic half and Gem half early in the show (during "Giant Woman" after a successful fusion and unfusion, even!), but they didn't try the concept until the last episode. They didn't want the "Pink" Steven to be portrayed as "better" even though he would be more powerful, so they decided he isn't whole without his organic self and he's just as much of a shell as the organic half. They absolutely did not want any ending that required Rose to be inside him or waiting to come back. But the debates were fierce--what DOES it mean to have Rose's Gem?

Ian Jones-Quartey brings in an anecdote about his own family to emphasize some of the immigrant themes that inspired aspects of the show. He had a brother who reinvented himself elsewhere away from family without resolving issues, and all the ramifications of that were explored in the show through Rose Quartz. (He is careful to say he doesn't think his immigrant experience is like being from another planet!) But he did say you can hurt your old family even if they were toxic or didn't know the real you, and you can hurt your new family by hiding your past. The Pizza family of course was also a more direct reference to Ian's Ghanaian family.

In talking about the new Fusions from this episode, Sunstone is largely described by Miki, who also got to board the Sunstone section. Sunstone was described as a cool 1990s character and the evolution just continued into making them a fourth-wall-breaking PSA dispenser. Obsidian is also discussed, with their sword being an early concept. Steven Sugar said they totally knew it would be forged in action. Obsidian being similar to the Temple design is of course another very early detail.

The story of how James Baxter got involved with one of the final scenes (Organic Steven and Pink Steven fusing in front of White Diamond) was shared. His family was fans of the show and Rebecca Sugar took the time to drive to a birthday party for his daughter and give her a drawing. He then owed her a favor, and this was it.

Concept art is again included, this time with sample boards, promo images, a Diamond fight concept, costume design changes for the Gems, new Fusions, the so-called "Mega Diamond" ship conglomerate, some scenes from the White Diamond confrontation, Pink Steven, multiple pages of James Baxter animation, corrupted Gems and their healed selves, and photos from the "Change Your Mind" premiere and some awards. The show has won one design-related Emmy, a Peabody Award, and a GLAAD award.

6. STEVEN UNIVERSE FUTURE

The book doesn't cover the movie because it got its own book, but dives right into Future. Ian Jones-Quartey emphasizes that the movie and Future are separate and different from the original show, which ENDED. After all, after that, Steven has a neck!

Some new names are invoked now: new writers Kate Tsang, Jack Pendarvis, and Taneka Stotts. They were excited to have Steven make HIS OWN mistakes instead of trying to clean up someone else's! Now, instead of doing the usual shonen anime thing and having the final battle be a big physical rumble, Steven has to make peace with himself and take an active role in coping with what all the fighting has done to him and what effect it's had on who he is (and who he wants to be). There is no sudden "I love myself!" answer, either. It's always a process.

Drew Green and Maya Petersen, who came on board as storyboarders officially in Future, also weighed in on writing for a "mature" show, how to deal with Steven being a "moral compass" while being sort of unreliable, and what they learned as Crew that they didn't know as fans. Drew didn't know Garnet never asks questions. Jack didn't realize the show never deviated from Steven's point of view. Taneka was nervous but excited to collaborate. Kate was worried about how established the show was and what to do as a new writer to contribute appropriately.

Maya was on the old Crew but not as a storyboarder, so felt like some of the "old" ideas ended up not being appropriate for the "new" Future in an embarrassing way--and dreaded the idea of dealing with Steven's emotional problems when they were similar to stuff she'd been through. She also was personally behind the idea of Steven wanting to dump his problems by becoming Stevonnie, and got to work with Etienne Guignard on inventing the Pearl creation backstory with Volleyball.

There's some discussion of "depression hobbies," stress, and the show's pacing. And they say Etienne was entertaining at pitches. There's even some discussion of how Greg is taken off a bit of a pedestal because his terrible restrictive life in the suburbs sounded wholesome to Steven and Greg presented it negatively.

And then there is some information about how the Crew felt behind the scenes due to fan reactions and negative press. Ian discusses feeling offended when the Black characters are described as bad examples, as if their cartoonized but realistic-in-context features are automatically caricatures.

Rebecca Sugar felt beaten down by some of these narratives and began to access mental health services, inspiring some of the content of "Mindful Education." A long reflection from Rebecca discusses people's infighting about her show and what she had a responsibility to show or not show in the story. She learned a lot about bullying from Cartoon Network's anti-bullying program and learned that bullies thrive on whatever attention you give them--unless it is made clear to them by a peer group that no one is impressed by their cruel actions. Also, not all negative feedback is bullying. Constructive criticism is different. Self-awareness can help you avoid internalizing what bullies might do or say to you.

Segueing from the discussion of how people are affected by and connect with the show, we then discuss how they chose as a team what should be covered as the show came to a close. They didn't have time to do quite a few stories they wanted time for, like a Rhodonite story, a Lars side story, and Diamond "prehistory" and religion; all of it was put aside for the main arc with Steven.

They thought people would find those stories about Homeworld and Off Color history very interesting, but so much of the show had been about Steven's Gem adventures, so keeping him mostly on Earth seemed appropriate. The acknowledgment of his battle damage, of his trauma, was necessary and real, and helpful in an important way to the core audience.

Oh, and there was some stuff about a cheeseburger tree. Don't ask.

In discussing the "reverse escapism" of the original show (Gem aliens are intrigued by everyday human culture, and realism is necessary), Rebecca says her views have changed on escapism and gets why some people want a soothing feel-better show. She acknowledged also that her own escapist dreams-come-true fulfilled in the show didn't feel like escapism because they were givens to the majority of mainstream culture, but were never guaranteed to marginalized people.

Rebecca ties in her several-times-told story about "Love Like You" and how the middle bit was when she didn't feel she was worth looking up to, and the realizations she had to tie the beginning to the end. Feeling like someone will like you less if they know you more is terrible. So sometimes a show like this can be helpful in telling people that they belong when their fantasies are things like "I want to be loved" and "I want to know I exist."

In Future, Steven has to connect to who he is and love that person--and understand that person enough to finally feel that even if he's not fixing their problems or saving their world right this second, Steven deserves his family's love and support, and they WANT to give it to him.

There's a huge amount of supplemental material in this section so there's no way I could name it all. The charts for Future's timeline are pretty straightforward, though a few episodes like "A Very Special Episode," "Why So Blue," "In Dreams," and "Bismuth Casual" aren't specifically represented and a couple are in a different order ("Prickly Pair" was conceived as happening after "Fragments" and "Homeworld Bound").

Steven feeling like a monster, having intrusive thoughts, having not forgiven the Diamonds, and getting help/moving on--it's all there.

We have keys, color scripts, and boards for the new opening and some various backgrounds and storyboard art from episodes. Model sheets for Shep, Nice Lapis and Mean Lapis, Jasper, Steven Tag Gems, Pink Steven Powers, Monster Steven. New house concepts, Era 3 Homeworld concept art for the Diamond environments, and background art for the Reef.

New Connie and Greg designs. Concepts for Mega Pearl, the Rose Quartzes, Bluebird, and Morganite (who didn't get used). And there are some photos from recording and the conference room. There are even some extras from "Crossover Nexus," the crossover with OK K.O.!--including an unused cut scene that included Ruby and Sapphire fighting. The rest of the book is a bunch of adorable Crewniverse art--extras, blog drawings, promos, and gifts to each other.

NOTABLE

1.

The first timeline chart in the book features a cool sketch of the original Off Colors, which at the time this planning document was drafted included unused Off Colors Flint and Chert.

We knew of their existence already because of an episode of the podcast, but these two unexpectedly appeared as incidental characters in the Steven Universe Future episode "Homeworld Bound," identified only in the credits. Sad to think that instead of banding with the Off Colors, these two were probably shattered for their crime (being Quartzes who don't want to fight) and that's why we see them being repaired in this episode. Later, there's some brainstorming for types of Off Colors and "a Ruby that wants to wear limb enhancers" is mentioned as well.

2. 

It looks like there was also originally more juice to the story of tracking down the events of the war culminating in Pink Diamond's assassination.

One of the timelines talks about Steven thinking it makes sense that Pearl can't talk about her involvement because she might have been a double agent, explaining why Rose Quartz always knew what Pink Diamond was doing. It seems like that bit was supposed to be included in Garnet's version of the story she believed in "Your Mother and Mine." Seems like they originally conceived Garnet's story to inspire the Off Colors to become pirates and freedom fighters, though in the show's canon this storytelling happened after Lars had already reinvented himself the way he did.

Sadie was also supposed to be sending letters to Lars via Steven, which is funny since the "Letters to Lars" episode is just a montage Steven letter. And of course it's specified that Steven was supposed to get Pink Diamond flashbacks by going to the Palace on Homeworld.

3. 

The second chart in the book makes references to Sadie's reinvention of herself as a parallel to Lars, Greg, and Pink Diamond all doing the same thing, and how positive it is to embrace such a thing--a version of yourself that YOU create.

I love that Yellow Diamond's arm ship arm-wrestling the Cluster was always part of the plan.

There's some more explicit direction to have Connie help Steven understand the Diamonds as "strict parents," and a lot more emphasis on everyone realizing Rose had been inspired by THEM rather than them all following her.

White Diamond is presented here as if she thinks of Pink Diamond as a "daughter" (whom she now understands she has "lost"). There are notes on how the Diamonds have a responsibility to their children and should attend to it before just continuing to make more.

4.

One of the concept art images for the Off Colors features Rhodonite crouching by Padparadscha saying "Don't worry, I won't let them hurt you." It's very interesting because she DOES seem to protect Padparadscha in the show, but doesn't seem confident about it in her final version, even though it does seem like she'd be "programmed" to guard aristocratic Gems because of her Ruby and Pearl makeup. Cool.

5.

A "Crew Cameos" spread was included, which is of great interest to some of us who loved seeing the Crew insert themselves into the show. Not every SU Crew person who's been represented in a crowd was there, but this crowd included Amish Kumar, Kat Morris, Amanda Winterstein, Angie Wang, Lamar Abrams, Emily Walus, Mary Nash, Joe Johnston, Christy Cohen, Danny Cragg, Hilary Florido, Danny Hynes, Matt Burnett, Ben Levin, Elle Michalka.

6.

The official national flower of South Korea, Hibiscus syriacus, is the name of Pink Diamond's flower.

7.

One of Steven Sugar's comments about the silhouette difference between humans and Gems points out that humans have ears. This seems to be pretty good confirmation that they are not supposed to have ears, despite that sometimes we'll see ears drawn on them in some frames.

8.

Rose Quartz/Pink Diamond is characterized in this book as "self-hating" in a really interesting way, saying that because she believed she was not capable of compassion, she practically worshiped those who demonstrated that ability and thought they were so much better than her--which is described as "intoxicating" and resulted in others being drawn to her. How interesting is that!

9.

Timelines reveal that early plans for Pink Diamond's first Pearl originally had her getting destroyed by Pink during  a game, and then her destruction was rewritten as a punishment from the Diamonds after Pink Pearl defended Pink Diamond to the other Diamonds. They went back to the idea of her getting hurt by Pink for the final version, though the cracked face and control by White Diamond was not on the agenda until they started writing "Change Your Mind."

10.

The approximate ages of the major characters, based on emergence, are revealed on these timelines. It begins with a cracked-planet-looking graphic depicting four tiny Diamonds emerging at 20,000 years ago. Some suspicious "blacked out" redacting surrounds a long timeline tail that goes back before that, which may mean there are secrets they still don't want to reveal. But the dates go like this:

20,000 years ago: The Diamonds emerge.

11,000 years ago: Pearl is custom-made for Pink Diamond.

8,000 years ago: Sapphire emerges (on Homeworld).

6,000 years ago: Ruby emerges (on a colony).

5,750 years ago: Garnet is formed.

5,600 years ago: Lapis is poofed and put in the mirror.

5,200 years ago: Jasper emerges (on Earth).

5,050 years ago: The Cluster is planted.

5,000 years ago: Amethyst emerges (on Earth).

4,500 years ago: The Crystal Gems found Amethyst.

3,000 years ago: Peridot emerges (on Homeworld).

40 years ago: Pearl found Lapis's mirror at the Galaxy Warp.

And of course we know 14 years ago Steven is born!

11.

Originally the Diamonds were based on a quartet of themes: Love, Fear, Pride, and Sorrow. It got too complicated to keep and it was abandoned, with Pink's identification of "love" being described as "particularly outdated."

12.

Notes on a sketch say that Pearl was inspired to become bold and unashamed because Pink's questions drove her to have opinions, and it's said that Rose "fell in love" with her boldness.

13.

Rebecca tells the story of driving off a ridge and getting stuck in the desert, comparing this to Ruby's tumble during her Wild West adventure and using it as inspiration. She's told this story before but here it is in print. She also included the story about using the flowers from a friend's wedding to put in Ruby's hair.

14.

Rebecca describes having to "fight" notes she was given when it had to do with Ruby and Sapphire's relationship. One she describes as NOT fighting was for a signing card depicting Ruby and Sapphire dancing. It was called "too romantic" and she decided not to worry about it since it wasn't the actual show content.

She was also scolded over her book The Answer because the powers that be expected her to downplay that relationship. She always argued that queer youth deserved these things.

15.

Tom Herpich describes being inspired to name Blue Diamond's comb "Comby" because he was watching the news about Comey getting fired from the FBI. It's also a mineral-related term and I always assumed that reference was intentional, but maybe it's not and this is the only intended significance to Comby's name?

16.

Rainbow Quartz 2.0's design is not discussed, though the other two new Fusions from "Change Your Mind" (Sunstone and Obsidian) were. RQ2 has some sketches included, but no accompanying narrative in the text.

17.

A sheet of corrupted Gems and their healed selves is offered, though it doesn't appear to be final. The obelisk in "Serious Steven" is labeled Albite. The unnamed Worm Monster, Desert Glass, and Watermelon Tourmaline are included. An unnamed birdlike Gem represents the Big Bird monster from "Giant Woman." The crab monster from "Arcade Mania" is labeled Blue Chalcedony. The Tongue Monster is drawn uncorrupted but not named. The Flower Monster from "Back to the Kindergarten" is labeled Grossular Diopside or Titanite. The invisible monster from "Island Adventure" is labeled Moonstone. The Lighthouse Gem is labeled White Topaz. A form for Larimar that was used in "Change Your Mind" but changed in Future is there. The Slinker is listed as Chrysocolla. And the Crab Monster is listed as Aventurine.

On the next page, this is changed to Bixbite (as it was in Steven Universe Future), and we then also have Lace Amethyst, Blue Lace Agate, Crazy Lace Agate (Fusion), Ocean Jasper, the Mother Centipeetle Nephrite (Facet 413 Cabochon 12) and three other Nephrites, Angel Aura Quartz, a hooded Jasper, Zebra Jasper, Biggs Jasper, Watermelon Tourmaline (labeled as Fusion of Gem * Onion--huh?), Snowflake Obsidian, "Little" Larimar, and Orange Spodumene (who was the Worm).

18.

The Rhodonite side story would have been about the love story of a Ruby and a Pearl working for Morganite. Images of Morganite and her servants, unfused, are in the book. We do not get this additional information, but Rebecca said in a panel shortly before the book's release that Rhodonite's story would have been about finding out that she had been Rejuvenated 17 times because her components kept falling in love and needing to be reset.

19.

Referring to the Diamonds on one of the charts, Steven's perspective is "I can't believe I helped these" and then there's a censor bar. Welp.

20.

Some included art by Hilary Florido features Kevin with a souped-up Koala Princess car and another where Kevin is staring at himself in the mirror in front of an altar to himself.

21.

Rebecca's sweater collection is included in the Crew art.

[SU Book and Comic Reviews]

[toontails]

Toon Quest|| Reader Insert

Chapter 2: Roadkill

The muffling sound of speaking woke Y/n up from her slumber, as any other morning, the birds their sweet melody. The sun was given the chance to shine through the clouds, it rays lighting up each crevice of Y/n's room. She must have forgotten to close the blinds last night, she still felt the fatigue drag her down into slumber. Her eyelids giving off a burning sensation and...something else. She was sore, causing slight discomfort. Her hands were stinging painfully as well as her torso. Sitting up quickly, Y/n lifted her palms. Looking down she saw two blisters like burns on both of her palms. The palm of the skin was torn, her hands felt almost numb and stiff, looking at the red tissue, Y/n realized it was a people burn. From the lasso that she was holding so tight onto. Last night she didn't feel a thing, most likely because she was worried about a hundred other things and the fact her adrenaline was pumping from fear and being overwhelmed. Lifting her shirt slightly, she peered down at her torso, not much noticeable other than a colored bruise that was forming. 

"I need to be more careful.." She whispered to herself. 

"Y/n!!" Her mother calls her from down stairs. Y/n looked over towards her nightstand. Reaching over to her phone. She picked it up and plucked it from it's charger and looked at the time. 

11:13 AM

She quickly slipped from out of the bed. Thankfully her legs aren't sore to the point she felt like she was walking on stilts. Scurrying over to the bookbag where she passed the book safely. Opening the bag, she saw the book indeed was still safely tucked away. Closing the bag up again, Y/n got up and walked from the room. 

-

Hearing soft laughter from downstairs, Y/n stood at the last step, the staircase led to the corridor to the living room. Where she saw her mother, Bendy and Henry Stein. Henry was standing next to M/n. His hands in his slacks pockets. Dark circles under his eyes, no doubt from the busy work. Bendy stood at the end of the coffee table holding a tissue paper, where he stuffed the tissue paper into the fist of his palm on his other hand. Once the tissue was no longer in sight he opened his palm to reveal nothing, the tissue nowhere to be found. M/n laughed slightly, clapping at the many harmless magic freaks Bendy showed her. 

"I didn't know you could do that." M/n told Bendy. Bendy's smile widened. "Oh, I dabble." 

Y/n noticed that Bendy actually wore clothes this time—not that he really needed to anyway. He still had his white bow tie. What was added was black dress pants and white suspenders. Looking more dapper than he originally looked. 

"Oh! Y/n. Glad you're up, did you pack your bags? You're leaving soon." Y/n's optics flickered away from Bendy and over to her mother. Y/n gave a welcoming smile to Henry, who smiled back as well. 

"I'll pack right now. I should be done in a few minutes." Y/n answered. Her mother nods, leaving her daughter to take care of her business. Y/n started to walk up the stairs, but abruptly stopped before glancing back over at Bendy, who caught hindsight of her. She motioned him to follow her and then, she walked back upstairs. 

-

Scuffling through her dresser, Bendy slowly closed the door behind him as he glanced around momentarily. 

"Where's Panchito and Oswald?" Y/n asked. Bendy turned his gaze over to Y/n, giving her a questioning gaze. Yes. He knew who Panchito was, but was oblivious to the fact the toon rabbit they were with last night was named Oswald. 

"Oswald?" He asked slowly. Y/n looked at him and gave hina questioning expression as well. "Yes. Rabbit, remember?" She raised an eyebrow, and Bendy soon made an expression of realization. 

"Oh him. They're both at the studio. I hid them in the lower section of the building." He said. Y/n nods before taking out the set of clothes and carrying them over to the bed. Placing the clothing on the bed as she then glanced at her palms. 

"I got a rope burn when we were crossing leaping over the street." She showed her palms to Bendy who walked over and gazed down at her hands. 

"There's bandages in the car, we'll bandage you up in there." 

Once hearing that there was a first aid kit in the car, Y/n was relieved to hear that she wouldn't have to sit hours in the car with sore and burning hands. But. After a while of picking out clothes. Grabbing her toothbrush. Wallet, phone and phone charger all in one book bag along with the book. The two set off to finally start their adventure. 

"Where's Henry going? Isn't he driving us back to the studio?" Y/n asked Bendy, she grabbed the book bag and placed it on her shoulders. Bendy looked away from the window and shook his head. 

"Of course not. Him and M/n have a business errand to run with the board, what is it? I don't know, I've heard it's a big thing that a new company is innovating but, he's riding with M/n." He said. Y/n nods, it wasn't rare that Henry and her mother had meetings they constantly had to be to. Changing the topic as she held the straps of her book bag. She grinned at Bendy. 

"You were being put through the ringer last night." She laughed. Thinking back in the punch Bendy received from one of the beagle boys. Bendy froze for a second. His always lasting grin faltering a dipping down for a second. 

"Oh please. You all should be thanking me. I worked under pressure and took the first blow." 

"At this point you're just a walking punching bag. Come on—"

"A walking punching bag? Why I—forget it. Let's go." 

-

"Okay, and remember, indoors at 8PM. Not too late, remember to eat dinner, and don't forget! Take pictures!" M/n pressed a kiss to Y/n's forehead before pulling her into a hug, Y/n returned the gesture before pulling away. Bendy stood in the doorway of the front door, arms behind his back. Walking over to him, M/n waved at her daughter. 

"Bendy, please. Keep her safe and out of trouble." M/n said. Bendy smiled and nodded. "Oh please. I won't let her out of my sights, she'll be as safe as a kitten Mrs. L/n." 

Bendy hooked his arm around Y/n's arm and escorted her out the house, her mother waving the two goodbye with a soft expression. Henry was standing next to her as well, lifting a hand to wave the two goodbye as well. 

"Alright toots, let's roll."

-

Arriving at the studio, Annie—yet again was standing at the receptionist desk, Y/n trailed behind Bendy who walked past Annie, she was too busy talking to some other employee from another department to notice the two. Once making it to a hallway, right in front of an elevator, Bendy pressed the arrow that would take them down into the studio. Which made Y/n wonder. 

"There's a lower section of the studio?" She asked. Bendy looked away from the studio and back to Y/n, which. He soon nods. 

"Yes, that's usually where the head composer of the music stores most of the instruments when not in use in the recording booth. And also other stuff is stored down there, I usually go down there to break something just because." Bendy didn't seem to be bothered at the fact he admitted purposely breaking something—well. Not much of a surprise as he was the definition of a mischievous trouble maker. A small airy laugh came from Y/n before she looked over to the elevator doors that opened with a automatic; 'ding'

The two stepped into the elevator, once in the elevator Bendy yet again pressed a button to the lowest floor of the studio. 

"How did you sneak them in here last night?" Y/n asked. 

"The emergency exit."

"...." Y/n looked at Bendy with furrowed eyebrows. Bendy noticed and his pie cut eyes looked over to her. "What?"

"Me and Panchito came in through the emergency exit and we almost got caught." She said, the memory basically playing vividly in front of her. Bendy lets out a snarky laugh. 

"Tough luck, toots. I can fool basically anyone there is—"

-

"Hey! Watch my horns you vile woman!" Bendy shouts. Alice Angel—another one of the company's loving and famous characters, had her hand on Bendy's hand. And her knee on his back, basically pinning him to a wooden table that was in the hallway—more of a desk that was in front of the elevator where Bendy and Y/n once stood in. But upon reaching the last floor, they were met with two figures in front of the elevator. Alice Angel and Boris. Alice being the one who was mostly on the side of suspiciousness and hostility, which ended with her pinning Bendy to the table. And Boris holding onto Y/n by her book bag. Y/n didn't take much of a chance to try and free herself as she didn't want to appear too much of a bad person as the two thought she was. 

The basement area was much different from how the upper part of the building was. The floors weren't linoleum, instead it was a dusty wooden floor, with various rooms—which seemed to not be in use—but. Her focus wasn't much on the aspect of her surroundings, but more trying to get on the good side of Alice and Boris. 

Alice leaned down next to Bendy's head. 

"Where's your other two friends, huh? You think that stunt you pulled last night got past me and Boris? Sure the others, but I'm positive there were more of you than just the gal' over there." Alice motioned towards Y/n, who was slightly lifted from the ground by her bookbag by Boris. Who mostly had his focus on Bendy. 

Bendy soon made a noise and then gave Alice a betrayed expression. 

"Are you really interrogating me?" He asked, moving his lower body to not cause a strain to his chest that was pressed harshly into the desk. 

"Yes, I am. Maybe I wouldn't be if you weren't so sneaky—I mean. How did you even slip past Henry like that?" Alice scoffed, Bendy made a blank expression for a moment, deep in thought, Alice then turned her gaze to Y/n. 

"You. You're Y/n, right?" She asked. Y/n was debating to really answer her question—was she in trouble? No she couldn't be—she was positive that Boris and Alice were Bendy's friends—-they literally work in the same company and industry. 

"Yes..I am." She replied. Alice then looked back at Bendy. Who had yet to reply. 

"What are you two up to? I wouldn't be so on edge if you came straight forward and told me." She said. Bendy snorted and smiled. "Oh please, toots. You think if we were doing something illegal, I would tell you?"

"Well are you?"

Bendy opened his mouth to speak, but—he seemed to stop himself before closing his mouth slowly. Alice then quickly pushed herself away from Bendy. Placing her fingertips to her mouth in bewilderment, a light and dainty gasp emits from her. 

"Bendy! Stop pulling my leg—are you serious?" She said. Bendy gets up from the table, fixing his bow tie before looking at Alice. Boris finally spoke up, placing Y/n on the ground. 

"And what exactly did you do?" Boris asked. 

"Oh please. I didn't do anything illegal—"

"Hola!" Bendy quickly turned around and was met with Panchito and Oswald. Who managed to track down where the sudden commotion was coming from. Alice gasped at the two new toons. Boris' ears perked up slightly at the two. Oswald looked between Alice and Bendy, knowing the two made a mistake with their sudden appearance. Oswald proceeded to try and grab Panchito's arm to drag him away from the eyes of the two new toons. But. Panchito took sight of Y/n and shot towards her, Y/n wasn't able to respond quick enough when she felt his arms encircled her body, her footsteps becoming unbalanced as Panchito yipped in glee. 

"Ah! Mi cariño,¡Te veo tan mal!" He let her go and quickly took both of her hands. Y/n had a smile on her face at the boisterous and affectionate rooster. A nice feeling came from someone that cared about her with so much passion with little time. It seemed he cared a lot for his friends and the people he surrounded himself with. 

"Wh—wait—who? Bendy!" Alice quickly moves her attention back over to Bendy. Who only gave her a patient expression. Alice motioned around them, as if wanting him to explain all of what was happening. 

"Explain!" 

"Okay! Come on! God!"

-

The 6 stared down at the black leather book that was sitting on a dusted wooden table in the lower area of the studio—where they still resided in. Bendy explained in the exact same sense that the three managed to figure out last night. The reason for the book and the two other toons along with Y/n. Boris had a hand in his hip as he stared down at the book. Alice had her eyebrows furrowed. With Bendy finally telling her all of what was happening, she was no longer hostile or angry like she once was several minutes ago. Oswald had yet to speak. Instead opting to keep his mouth zipped as Bendy was the one to reiterate and retell everything. 

"So...if me and Boris tried to open the book—we wouldn't be able to?" She asked. Within listening to Bendy and hearing the fact the book chose people—specific people—specifically, Y/n, Oswald, Panchito and Bendy.

Alice could only grow curious if she would be a chosen toon—not to mention, a bit jealous that Bendy—out of all toons out there—was one of the chosen. 

"Go ahead. Open it." Bendy had his arms behind his back with a growing grin, Alice cautiously watched him before she placed her fingers on top of the book before picking it up. Y/n could watch at first as she tried to slightly open the book—but surprisingly the book was shut tight. As if it were locked to the teeth. This was her first time seeing the book do something by refusing to open to someone other than her and the three other toons. 

Boris' ears perked up yet again, looking over at Alice as she tried tugging at the book harshly. 

"Gosh—this thing is….locked...tight." She strained her last word as she tried to pull and tug at the book. But to avail or amount of power, did it open. 

"Whoa…"  Y/n whispered to herself...that..was something new and..that confirmed to the fact that she was one of the 12 chosen people for the book. 

"Let me try!" Boris snatched the book from Alice, who yelps in surprisement. Boris tried to open the book as well, but as for Alice, he received the same. It wouldn't open, not a budge. But he didn't seem to stop. Instead he pulled harder and harder.  Alice tried to grab at the book, but Boris moved away from her. 

"Hey! Give it back!" She said. But Boris didn't reply and continued trying to get into the book. Alice seemed to have enough of Boris hogging the book. She turned over and took a wooden plank—that seemed to have been pulled from the floor. Turning back over to Boris. She rose the plank above her head and quickly slammed it down on Boris's head with a loud; WHOMP!

Boris was stiff as a board. Dropping the book onto the floor. His two black pie cut eyes turning into two X's as if the plank killed him! Stars and birds tweeting appeared above his head and he dropped to the ground with 'Thud!' 

Still dazed at the fact he was hit in the head.  Y/n covered her mouth with a gasp—yet a sniffle of laughter—seeing how animated they were in front of her and not on screen was way different. 

"Wasn't able to hit one of the boys with an object in so long—I still got it." Alice quipped, a smile appearing on her face before she reached up and fixed her halo. Bendy walked over and picked up the book that was by Boris' foot. He walked over to Oswald and handed it to him, which Oswald took gracefully. 

"It's not a toy." Bendy told the two...even though Boris seemed unresponsive. Alice huffed. 

"But, why is it picking select people, surely the book has to be a warning for something," Alice said. 

"We're learning as we go. We don't know what it is that's making this book go on a scavenger hunt." Oswald replied. Bendy nods in agreement with Oswald's answer. Alice tapped her elbow with her finger for a moment. Panchito and Y/n stood next to each other silently watching them all speak—well. Now besides Boris. 

"You said some person with a trench coat was after the book, right?" She asked. Oswald seemed to grimace at the mention of the anonymous person. "Yes. Him, he wants the book. Reason why he held me hostage, so I can be his personal key for the book." Oswald said. Alice looked as Oswald, and her optics flickered towards the book momentarily. 

"How did he know you were one of few people to access the book?" She asked. Oswald—surprisingly had an answer for that. Lifting a hand he tapped his chin in deep thought. 

"Well, now that you've mentioned it. I remember overhearing about a witch that he went to to track me down. Or—as he said. Feel my energy in the area, which I could assume that's how he found me." Oswald said. 

"A witch? We have those down here…?" Bendy mumbled under his breath in deep thought. Alice ignored the devil and thought for a moment. 

"Magica." Y/n piped up. Oswald, Alice, Bendy and Panchito looked over to her when she spoke up. 

"The duck, she must be the witch that man spoke to. It wouldn't be too far from wrong—but I wouldn't exactly say I'm right either." Oswald shook his head as Y/n spoke. 

"No, no. Now that you've said something about her, I believe she must be the witch he was talking to. Why else would she and the beagle boys be at the bar last night to get me and stop you and the others." Oswald said. Alice hummed slightly to get everyone's attention. 

"Me and Boris can be in sight while you all are out of town." Alice suggested. Boris had groaned after finally lifting himself from the ground. Rubbing his head from the impact of the wooden board. 

"What for?" Bendy asked. 

"Well, if you all will be out of town. Who knows what would be going on down here. Seeing you all don't have a clue what your objective is it would be best to have others who can keep eyes out for what's going on—and in case you all haven't noticed, tons of news went down in the past week." She looked at the four and then crossed her arms. Bendy didn't really seem too pleased with getting help from Alice but he had to admit..she was right. He rarely cared for anything media wise—political wise—or...damn near anything in that field. 

"No th-"

"She's right, Bendy. Honestly I haven't taken a glance at a TV to see what's going on with the tension between toons and humans in some time, it would be best to have someone have tabs of all what's going on that might be a reason for or a build up for causing this book to wake up." Oswald agreed with Alice. Y/n soon raised her hand slightly. 

"I agree too. I didn't know anything about the book of Vida until I was here yesterday watching the news segment with you. We can't just go into everything blindly. We need to have at least some info." She said. Panchito looked between Oswald and Y/n. 

“No miro las noticias.” He adds.

"Fine. You can collect Intel." Bendy gave in. Alice smiled and nudged Boris. Who still was a bit dazed—but was still listening to the conversation. Alice soon placed her hands behind her back. Boris had squinted his eyes and looked at everyone with a dumbfounded expression. 

"What? What are we talking about?" He asks slowly. But Alice ignored him and continued to talk, clapping her hands together she then shouts. 

"Alright! In case you four are unaware—there is a rising tension between toons and humans." Alice announced. Bendy raised an eyebrow (?) And soon made a gesture with his hand for Alice to continue. 

"Okay? What about it?" He asks.

"That can be a clue. Obviously something is stirring up, causing conflict between both groups," She said. Boris—who had been silent and trying to catch  on to all of what they were talking about, finally understood what the topic was about. Lifting a glove hand slightly, he spoke. 

"Oh yes, that. Toons for some reason are experiencing a lot of episodes, causing them to not only do harm to others, but for themselves." He states. Oswald ears slowly rose and he thumped his foot on the wooden floor, as if he had a thought. Y/n noticed, but she didn't say anything.  Though she couldn't see too many connections, she could sense Oswald knew something. 

"Yes, I've heard about that…" Oswald starts. Bendy didn't seem to understand anything as he only looked at the small group. 

"Recently it seems toons—for the most part, popular toons—ya' know. Actors and actresses haven't been too pleasantly taking things too...uh. Well." Oswald said. Alice nods, before she starts to take over yet again. 

"Recently we know about one case with a toon lashing out on one of her agents out of anger for—as the headline claimed; Not caring for her—whatever that means." Alice placed an index finger on her cheek. Her dark eyes sliding down to the floor in thought. 

"And, for the most part, most confessions and news headlines are pretty much similar. Toon gets angry at a lady for not treating her equally, toons not being able to have a say in their own shows, the list goes on—and we even have some toons committing some crimes such as…" Alice turns her gaze over to Panchito, who was still standing next to Y/n. 

"Robbery." She finishes before continuing. Her eyes looking at the group.

"What I'm saying is, there seems to be a rise of toons wanting more equality causing them to act out maybe from anger and or retaliation. And some for the most part, taking the destructive side of things, which are causing humans to be a bit—overwhelmed?—ah, I wouldn't say that, bu—" Alice was cut off by Bendy who waved his hand and clicked his tongue—as if the topic wasn't something that he cared for. 

"A few angry toons? You think that's the problem?" He asks Alice. Alice pursed her lips for a moment, shaking her head at Bendy's careless reaction to something that could turn into something potentially serious in the future. 

"Bendy, this is serious. It may not seem to be the answer to the reason why that book is on the lookout or search—but it's something to keep an eye out for—for all we know. This might escalate into a scenario where this could be the reason why the book is searching for people to stop this." Alice explains, and Y/n agreed with her. Though there was a good chance the tension between toons and humans isn't the answer to the book, that could be something to keep an eye out for in the future as it could turn into something much more serious and maybe even dangerous. 

Out of all things. No one needs humans and toons fighting each other. 

"She's right Bendy, if humans start seeing toons as a threat, we don't know how this could end or what would happen to toons further down the line. It may seem small now, but it can be serious in the future." Y/n interjects, Bendy turned his gaze to Y/n. 

"What do we look like, the Justice League?" He mocks, repeating what Y/n said from last night, and it seems the tables have turned. Y/n rolled her eyes at his childish reaction. Though...she didn't know what to expect coming from Bendy. 

"That's what you told me last night, right? What do you all expect us to do? Restore justice and equality back between humans and toons if all goes bad? And wave a finger at them and say;" he then stepped to the side and looked at the side of him, and shook his index finger, as if scolding a child. 

"Now be nice."

He then regained his posture and placed his hands behind his back. 

"No. That doesn't work like that.  If all, go to—I don't know—the white house and demand them to do their job to stop all what's happening."

Boris was about to lift a finger to wave. But seeing he didn't want to get involved in the mess of a conversation. He slowly put his arm to his side and stayed silent yet again. 

Though, Alice rubbed her temple and shook her head. 

"I...agree with Bendy." Oswald pipes up. Y/n looked over at Oswald and furrowed her eyebrows. Bendy then smiled widely—as if making a point. 

"What? You too? Why?" Y/n questioned. Oswald lifts the corner of his mouth for a second—as if thinking of what to say. 

"It's—a long story. I understand where Bendy is coming from—but Y/n. We can't put our focus on society and their problems— not when we potentially have one that revolves around a man in a trench coat, and I'm positive he has nothing to do with the problem between toons and humans, we have to focus on him and getting the rest of our team together." Oswald said. Y/n let out a slight huff through her nose. 

"Whatever...fine.." She muttered and looked back at Alice. Oswald was about to speak to her again when he noticed her sour response to his explanation. But, Alice spoke up before he could try to speak. 

"Well, me and Boris will keep tabs on them, along with anything else that may come by as questionable." Alice said. 

"Great, are we done? Okay! Let's hit the road!" 

-

Y/n sat in the passenger seat of the car, her hand hanging out the window, the wind brushing against her hand as the car drove down the road. The buildings passed by and the feeling of the warm sun invading the car—in which Bendy decided not to turn on the AC for whatever reason. 

Panchito and Oswald were in the back of the car, Panchito often shuffling around to find something to distract himself. Due to the fact, Y/n didn't want to drive, yet. Bendy took the responsibility of driving. 

"So.." Suddenly Oswald shuffled to the front, his upper part leaning on the arm rest, looking between Bendy and Y/n. 

"How long will it be to get to Orgeon?" He asks. Y/n didn't have the answer to that, so she turned to look over at Bendy. 

"Well, we left late, thanks to Alice. So most likely we won't arrive until late at night at around 11PM or so. The drive is 10 hours, if we don't make any stops." Bendy replied. His eyes focused on the road. Oswald nods and soon Y/n's eyes tracked across the dashboard of the car in search of the GPS or some sort of system to help guide them to Oregon, but—no doubt. She didn't see the device anywhere. 

"No stops? Does that include potty breaks?" Panchito asks, soon squeezed by Oswald, who moves over to give Panchito room to peer up at the front of the car. 

"Yes, we can take bathroom breaks. But nothing else, I'm assuming you have to use the bathroom?"

"No."

"Then why did you a-"

"We need a GPS." Y/n interrupts. Bendy looked away from the road and to Y/n. The corners of his mouth twitching—oh yes! The GPS! how could he forget?

"Okay, we're making a stop."

-

After an hour of driving down a one way road. With lots of fields—letting them know they've made it out of town. They spotted a gas station far to the side. Not much business going on—but good enough to get up on gas just in case, and look for a GPS to use—alongside with buying snacks so not many more stops can be made. 

Closing the door to the car, Y/n waited for the three toons to get out of the car. Looking around, she could smell the familiar smell of gasoline and tar pavement. Looking at the janky store. Y/n grimaced. 

"This place looks horrible.." She said. Bendy walked past her. He nudged her arm as he did so. 

"It's an off road gas station, toots. What do ya' expect?" He said as he walked towards the store. Soon, Y/n followed after. Hearing shuffling behind her, she looked over her shoulder and saw Oswald and Panchito following after her. Pushing open the glass doors to the store. Y/n was met with a simple gas store with 3 aisles—as any other gas store would have—nothing too extravagant. 

"A convenience store?" Panchito muttered under his breath. He stood next to Y/n and Oswald stood by her other side. The three looked at what the store had to offer as Bendy was busy talking to the cashier for a GPS—if the store had any. 

"I'm getting some chips." Y/n walked off to one of the aisles, in search of at least some decent snacks to keep her filled throughout the drive. Once seeing the small selection, she randomly grabbed the variation of chips and some candy bars for everyone. With a hand full of snacks she wandered back out of the aisle. So happening to walk past Oswald and Panchito who were by the slushies stand. Panchito was sitting on top of the slushie machine, the lid was open and he was digging around in the machine, digginging around in it as Oswald was holding down the lever to drink from the slushie machine. It seemed Panchito was pushing the slushie down the tube so more could come out as Oswald held down the lever and drank from the machine as if it were some sort of water fountain. Y/n quickly walked over. And with her foot she nudged Oswald's ankle. 

"Hey! Hey—you two. Stop it—-Panchito, get down from there. Now." Y/n ushered and scolded at the two. Meanwhile Bendy was watching as the person was counting the money Bendy gave, the cashier didn't even bat an eye to where the three were. Bendy soon landed his eyes on a small green box—a GPS—just what they needed! 

Though it was behind the cashier. Meaning he would have to ask to purchase it. 

"The GPS. How much would that be?" Bendy asked. The cashier soon looked over their shoulder to the box that was on the shelf, looking at the price tag that Bendy didn't so happen to see. The cashier turned back around and replied. 

"That'll be one-eighty," They replied. Bendy's tail went stiff as he glanced back at the GPS. "A dollar and 80 cents?" He asked slowly—-not no surprise, the cashier shook their head before replying. 

"One hundred and eighty." They corrected him. Soon—Y/n stood next Bendy. Dropping the bags of chips on the counter, after scolding at Oswald and Panchito, she finally got them to behave—appropriately. Only to be met with Bendy, who was in deep thought. 

"What are you making that face for?" Y/n asked Bendy. His pie cut eyes were slanted—as if he were in deep thought. His semi-permanent smile lowered as if he were frowning—yet he wasn't upset—just thinking. 

"The GPS cost an arm and a leg—that's what." He replied to her. Y/n squints her eyes in confusion, her eyes sliding over to where Bendy had his gaze pinned on. And it was the GPS.  And it was almost 200 dollars...at a gas station?! 

"Here you guys go." The cashier handed the two their bags, which Y/n took.

"Come on. We'll just use my phone for now until we run into another gas station." She told Bendy, which he turned from the box in defeat at the fact he couldn't purchase the god forsaken device. And with that, the small group walked from the store and back over to the car that was parked by one of the pumps. Y/n opened one of the back doors and tossed the bags to the back seat were Oswald and Panchito would be sitting. She noticed a small white cardboard box on the floor with the symbolic red cross. That must have been the first aid box Bendy was talking about. 

Reaching into the car, she grabbed it and opened the box, thankfully it had box filled with band aids and bandages, taking out the gauze and the peroxide to kill whatever germs would have gotten into the rope burn, Y/n placed the box down on the seat and opened the disinfectant bottle. Pouring the liquid on both of her hands. Oswald spotted Y/n with the bottle, she saw his figure stand in front of her, causing her to glance away at her hand. 

"What?" She asks. 

"Need help?" Oswald peered down at her hand and noticed the two burn marks on both of her palms. His ears raised slightly—almost cautiously. 

"What happened?" He asks. He reached down towards the car seat and grabbed the wrapped up gauze in the white box before. He took Y/n's left hand and started wrapping her palm in the bandage. 

"It's a rope burn." She answered. Oswald nods—putting his focus on wrapping the bandage comfortably around her hand, after doing so—and surprisingly ripping the bandage without scissors needed, he moved to the next hand, Y/n looked at her now bandaged left hand, flexing her fingers to make sure it wasn't too tight, but no doubt, Oswald wrapped it up just fine. Y/n looked away from her hand and to Oswald—who was still focused on wrapping her hand up, with a small smile when he was finished Y/n thanked him. 

"Thanks. I probably would have done a shit job wrapping it up." She said. "No problem." He returned the gratitude and placed the gauze back into the white box. 

Placing the pump back in its holster, Bendy finally spoke up;

"Alright, let's go-where's Panchito?" Bendy looked away from Oswald and Y/n and across the small gas station. The rooster was holding onto something—tugging it back, looking closer, they could see that he was trying to keep the book from floating away. Which Panchito saw that the three were looking over, his talon lifting from the ground as he tugged harder back to the ground to keep the book from floating away. 

"A little help?!" He cried out. Soon the three rushed over to Panchito, Y/n hopped up and grabbed a hold of the book to tug it back down. Oswald grabbed Panchito's talon and tugged him back down to the ground. Bendy grabbed Y/n's ankle to tug her back down as well. Being the anchor for the book did help momentarily. But with a split second the book shot from both Panchito's and Y/n's grip, causing them to fall to the ground. The book didn't fly away as suspected. Instead it tossed itself to the concrete and the book flipped open. Pages flipping one after the other. 

Y/n groaned in exhaustion. Hitting the ground abruptly like people did in those films were nothing like real life. It was painful. 

Bendy was about to walk over to pick the book up. But Oswald placed a hand in front of the demon toon, stopping him from walking. "Wait. Let it do what it needs to do." He said. Which Bendy listened to Oswald. Soon the book stopped from it page flipping and quickly a page ripped itself out. The beige tinted paper levitates above the open book. The Golden tint that Y/n and Panchito saw from last night, surrounding it yet again.

Soon, it folded itself up into what resembled to be a paper airplane. 

"...what..?" Y/n muttered. Heaving herself off the ground to look at the paper. But before anyone could interject the paper shot off! Out of the gas station and down the one way road. That same transparent trail leading the way. Y/n soon caught on. 

"It's just trying to lead us." She told the three. Panchito was silent for a second before understanding what she meant. "Oh yes, like it did last night to Bendy." He recalled. Bendy muttered something under his breath, most likely about getting hit by the book abruptly. 

Oswald soon interjected realizing how mostly blind he was for the last few hours. 

"Who exactly is in Oregon that we're going to talk to?" Oswald asks. Y/n walked over to the now still book, and picked it up. 

"Donald Duck. Or so we're assuming. The location is in Duckburg, and Panchito knows someone from down there—which is Donald." Y/n explained. Oswald had taken a short moment to think to himself...now why did that name sound so familiar..? Donald Duck….Donald Duck...Oswald was positive he heard the name somewhere. As his foot gently thumped against the pavement as he tried to recollect that familiar name. Y/n closed the book after making sure nothing was damaged. Soon she started walking back to the car. 

"Come on! We're knocking off too much time, we need to make it there at least before midnight."

-

Ah, as the four make their way to Oregon, let's move over to Duckburg, shall we?

Yes, Duckburg. A city filled with—well. Toons. And ducks of course. A popular town in Oregon, most popular for the renowned gazillionaire, Scrooge McDuck. The man who solves mysteries and rewrites history. Also home to a stubborn and low tempered duck, known as Donald Fauntleroy Duck.

The sound of the water breathing and the creaking of the sailboat. A white duck sat in a wooden chair by the edge of the sailboat, his head leaning in the crease of his arm as he lazily stared into the water that rippled in motion from the sailboat rocking back and forth ever so slightly. 

The nylon rope that attached itself from the dock to the boat, creaked with the motion of the boat. 

Donald rarely ever had silence, just. Pure silence. With most of his time being taken up with caring for his 3 nephews, now that their mother was back...there was really no need for him to keep much of an eye out for the 3. It has been almost 3 weeks since his 3 nephews left town to spend time with their mother that they so rightfully deserved. Yes. It was a break from the 3 rowdy boys, but they left a presence—Donald missed his three nephews. And he wasn't used to the silence that now endeavors the sailboat. 

Scrooge, yes. Was still in town, but was busy doing his own thing...being rich, obviously.

You would think with the current plethora of time, someone who spent years taking care of kids would find something to do with their alone time—such as a favorite activity or even sleep. But Donald couldn't find anything to do. No one to talk to—as if he had many people to converse with anyway. He quit being in the industry starring as a toon a long time ago, and he didn't think about going back, ever. Especially with the new toons he's seen on TV. 

Maybe a trip? No, he'd much rather have went on a trip with the boys instead of being by himself. 

Continuing to pass the time by listening to the serene ambience around him. He suddenly flinched at the feeling of something sticking in his feathers. 

Donald stood up with a grunt and reached back to pluck something from his tail feathers. Once bringing it to his view, he saw it was folded paper—that resembled an airplane. Furrowing his eyebrows, Donald turned around to see who would have thrown the paper at him, but was met with no one but the buildings from the town and—well, nature. 

"What the…" he looked back down at the paper, assuming by accident the wind caught a hold of it, that way it hit him. He crumbled up the paper. And tossed it to the side. Where it landed in a nearby trash can. 

Donald fixed his black sailor uniform before taking a few steps forward to go inside, but the trash can jolted slightly. As if someone kicked it. Donald flinched and whipped in the direction to face the trash can. His feathers ruffled up—now he was cautious. The trash can jolted yet again, causing it to tip over, and out rolled the balled up paper that Donald tossed in a few moments ago. Along with a few other things that were tossed away. 

"..." Donald stared at the paper with wide eyes. Looking to the left and then to the right, he took a few steps forward, stopping in front of the paper, with a webbed foot, he gently kicked the paper—which it rolled slightly. As it rolled the paper uncrumpled itself. Laying flat as if it were never crumbled, not a crease shown. This was..odd. Donald never seen anything like this before. Of course his Uncle Scrooge dragged him to odd and life threatening adventures, but those adventures hadn't happened in a while. 

Reaching down. Donald picked up the paper. The golden aura illuminated slightly under the sun. Words had been scribbled onto the paper in what seemed to be in ink. Donald lifted a finger to see out of curiosity if he could smear the ink.  Which he couldn't. Holding back onto the paper with both his hands he read aloud the words on the paper. 

"Just...keep following..the trail…" Donald ready slowly. Squinting his eyes gently. Looking up to see if he could see a trail. He saw nothing. Looking back at the paper. Donald tilted his head in confusion. 

"What?" He asks himself. As he spoke, the paper lit up slightly. His confused statement was soon written down on the paper. 

'What?'

"Whoa…" he said in awe. Donald tilted the paper, took a look to see if he can try and activate anything that can happen, but—he couldn't. Quickly flipping the paper back to the right position to see ink was once again writing another statement. 

'What? Hello?'

Donald soon was starting to think that maybe he got in contact with someone through the paper…? But how?

He was trying to register all what was happening and how to react. Obviously, what he was holding was no ordinary paper. 

"Hello." Donald replied, and as it did it once before. His statement was written down in the paper—for whoever was receiving it, to reply back. This was...exciting. New. But...odd. Where did this paper come from and why is it here? 

And way over, Y/n was the one who had replied to Donald. 

Six hours had passed in the car. Panchito was sound asleep in the back. As Oswald was looking out the window, watching the fields pass by. Bendy was still driving and as for Y/n...she discovered something new about the book. 

The book laid open in her lap. She stared down at the greeting;

'Hello.'

Whoever it was was receiving what she was saying as it wrote whatever she said down. And the same coming from whoever was on the other end. 

"Hey, for some reason I'm able to speak to someone on here." Y/n turned to look at Bendy, and then turned her gaze to Oswald.  Oswald looked away from the window and to Y/n. Leaning forward he peered down at the book in her lap to see the words screaming on the paper as if some sort of transcript.

"The book can talk too?" Oswald asks. He soon heaved himself up, slightly nudging Y/n to scoot over with his foot. 

"Scootch." He said. Y/n complained slightly. But moved over towards the left so Oswald could sit by the door. Plopping into the seat, Y/n saw the book wrote down what Oswald said. 

'The book can talk too?'

Which, whoever read it. Already replied by the time Oswald sat down. 

'Book? What book? My name is Donald'

Y/n mouth slowly opened as if she silently gasped. Oswald read the reply as well. His ears immediately shot up, almost hitting the ceiling of the car. 

"Look! Bendy, it's Donald!" Y/n shows the book to Bendy. Who finally focused on the new topic. Glancing at the book. His focused expression soon turned to one of surprisement. 

"Wait—how did—"

"Wait! You mean, Donald Duck?!" Oswald shouts. In what seemed to be anger. This caused Panchito to snort and abruptly wake up. His eyes squinting at the sunlight. Bendy glanced at the road and to Oswald. As Y/n gave Oswald a puzzled yet cautious expression. 

"Are you mad?" Bendy asked. Oswald looked between the two, his arms crossed for a moment before he increased them to try and think of an excuse. His ears lowered slightly. "No." Was all he said. Now he knew. Donald Duck. The Donald Duck...how did he not know..?

Y/n slowly looked back at the book to see another reply from Donald. 

'what's going on?'

"What does it say?" Bendy asks, he was too busy staring at the road to read the book. But Y/n took care to read out the question Donald asks. 

"He asked what's going on." She repeats. Soon, Oswald took the book from her hands. 

"We'll explain when we get there, it's me, Oswald and three others, short story, we have a book. And we need to see you. So be there and stay there." He said. And the exact words were written on the paper. A few seconds later, a reply from Donald scrawled on the paper. 

'Oswald? Why if it isn't my pal! Who're the other three? When will you be here?'

Y/n and Oswald read the reply and soon Bendy glanced over at Oswald. "You have some sort of vendetta or something against him, or?" Bendy trailed off to see if he could get an answer from Oswald. The rabbit muttered something before reply. 

"I'd rather keep it to myself. And no, I don't have a problem with him." Oswald replied. But Y/n wasn't too focused on their conversation, but more with trying to get to know the new member of the team, and that being Donald!

"Hi, my name is Y/n. Long story short, there's four of us right now, and we're looking for nine other people, what you're holding onto right now, is a piece of this book, I'm only assuming if we can communicate from a piece of paper, you're one of the people of our team that we're looking for, as Oswald said. We're on our way to Duckburg, stay there, and we'll tell you everything."

Y/n's short explanation copied itself onto the paper as it did before. Oswald leaned closer to look into the book. 

Soon. Donald replied. 

'Alright, I'll be here then.'

Donald even gave the address to them, even though the faint golden hue that was leading them down the roadway was enough. It was good to have his address as well. 

"Well this made this a thousand times easier." Bendy spoke up. Y/n closed the book with a nod. Leaning back into the seat, which wasn't much room as Oswald was squeezed into the seat as well. But he didn't seem to want to move either way. 

"We should be there by nightfall. So we'll have plenty of time to speak to Donald and get him caught up." Oswald glanced back out the window. Y/n looked over at Oswald. Who once again was back into his pool of thoughts. Y/n turned slightly to look into the back of the car. And found Panchito sound asleep yet again. His sombrero was now on the floor as his head leaned on the window, sleeping peacefully, Y/n was sure Panchito was exhausted with the amount of traveling he did to find Y/n and the others. He deserved the rest. Sitting back yet again, Y/n watched the road pass by. Bendy yet again placing his focus on the road. 

-

"Y/n. Wake up—-wake up….Hey!"

"Ow!" Y/n flinched at a painful pinch to her arm. Her eyelids shooting over and her optics turning over to meet Bendy's pie cut eyes.  He was standing on the passenger side, the door was open. And Oswald was seen in the background standing next to Panchito.  Behind them was a sailboat. The sun seemed to have been down for hours as the stars were out, the moon as well. Shining brightly in the sky for all to see. The lights on the sailboat glimmering in the chill night sky. 

"We're here. You were asleep the entire ride here." He adds. Y/n for a moment was disappointed at the fact she was asleep for so long, missing half of—well she didn't miss anything serious. But—either way, she wished she was up for the majority of the ride. 

"What? Why didn't you guys wake me up?" She unbuckled herself. Grabbing the book and her book bag that was on the floor. Placing it back in the bag and zipping it up. Y/n tossed the book around her shoulder and closed the door behind her. Bendy then stood next to her. 

"Trust me. We did. But that doesn't matter, we're in Duckburg now, and I believe this is Donald's address." Bendy motioned towards the sailboat that Oswald and Panchito were standing in front of. Y/n's eyes widen in awe. 

"Whoa…" she didn't know anyone that lived on a boat house..it was..cool to see actually. 

"What time is it?" She asked. Walking over to the other two. Bendy trailing beside her. Oswald glanced at his wrist—where a wrist watch would have been. 

"11:45PM before midnight." He said in a sly tone. Bendy squints his eyes. 

"But you don't have a wrist wa—"

"Donal!!"

"Panchito?!" 

Bendy, Oswald, and Y/n looked over to see Panchito sped across the dock and onto the boat, crashing into a white feathered duck. Donald Duck. 

Panchito laughed in excitement, locking Donald in a tight hug. Donald doing the same with a smile stretched on his beak, he seemed shocked to see Panchito, a look of familiarity and security washed over his face, Panchito hopped from one talon to the other as his tail feathers ruffling, he took a small step back to take in the sight of Donald, Donald did the same.

“I didn’t know you would be here! I haven’t seen you in so long! You’ve gotten taller, time surely does pass huh?” Donald spoke, his tail feather wagging repeatedly from pure joy, Panchito laughed and nodded his head, he extended his hands to motions towards the three; Oswald, Bendy and Y/n, Donald looked over and spotted the three, almost forgetting they were there. They were standing by the bridge of the dock that connected to the sailboat, Y/n had her focus on Donald and Panchito, and their interaction with each other, it was unbelievable on how the two knew each other and had such a tight and close bond, it was nice to see how exciting their first meeting was.

“This. These are my friends!” Panchito said, Donald’s eyes

Immediately went over to Oswald, who was already looking at Donald, the white duck perked up yet again before he walked away from the dock and over to the three, Panchito trailing right behind Donald.

“Oswald! I’m so glad to see you!” Donald extended his arms and almost immediately pulled Oswald into a hug, it seemed Oswald tried to back away from the hug by taking a step back and putting his hands up, but Donald didn’t seem to notice, wrapping his arms around Oswald, the rabbit deflated at the hold before wrapping his arms around the sailor in a warm hug.

“Yeah...good to see you too, buddy.” Oswald mumbled to him. Bendy looked at Y/n, which Y/n did the same. They both shared the same expression; they both know each other too?

“Oswald, you didn’t tell us that you knew, Donald.” Bendy told the rabbit, Donald pulled away from Oswald at Bendy’s statement, but he didn’t look at Oswald for answers or curiosity, he turned his gaze over to Bendy, Bendy! Donald has seen Bendy plenty of times on TV, though, he hadn’t personally met him, his nephews enjoyed watching the demon on screen, watching as Bendy did tons of crazy acts to other toons he forgot the names of, he was of the generations newest cartoons to be introduced, and Donald was curious to see that the same demon was right in front of him!

Bendy smiled and waved at Donald before taking a step forward to shake Donald’s hand, which Donald took hold of Bendy's hand, the two shaking each other’s hand.

“Hiya! My name is Bendy, it’s an honor ta’ meet the Donald Duck! I’ve see tons of ya’ shorts, and y—”

“You kiddin?! It’s an honor to meet you! It’s nice to see rising toons out here, you’ve been such an icon lately!” Donald and Bendy went back and forth in a conversation that Y/n slipped away from when she caught sight of Oswald, Oswald was still standing off

To the side, watching the two speak, they

Sound like businessmen of some sort, as if they could finally, Relate to each other in some way or form, Bendy and Donald momentarily being in their own world, Donald tagging in Panchito who stood by them, listening to their conversation.

Oswald didn’t seem too interested in the conversation, his left hand rubbing his right arm up and down slowly before he looked off somewhere else, Y/n didn’t know too much about Oswald, but she was certain there was something there about him that made him act the way he did, his sudden angry outburst, his strange way of showing a greeting to Donald, now thinking on it, Y/n didn’t know much about Panchito either—other than he lives somewhere in Mexico and not America, and Bendy—she also didn’t have much about him either.

“Y/n!” Y/n looked away from Oswald and over to Panchito, who a few meters away was beckoning her over to Donald and Bendy, the other two looked at her as Panchito had his arm wrapped around Donald’s shoulder, once he saw he got Y/n’s attention, he smiled widely and said; “Come here Querida, come meet my closest friend!”

Y/n placed a smile on her face and walked over to the three, Donald immediately held out his hand for a hand shake, a smile stretching onto his beak. Y/n took his hand and shook it.

“Nice ta’ meet ya’ toots!” He introduces, Y/n felt her smile widen, such positive energy from meeting a new person once again invaded the air, she knew of Donald Duck, of course who wouldn’t? Meeting him was a nice feeling she didn’t even think she would have the chance to get. 

“Hi, my name is Y/n, Y/n L/n, it’s nice to meet you, Panchito seems very fond of you,” Y/n looked over at Panchito who smiled at her, looking back at Donald he laughed lightly.

“Yes, seeing you Donald was the last thing I expected, especially in this circumstance.” Donald seemed to perk up slightly at the end of Panchito’s statement, of course, they were there for a reason! Not just to have a reunion party.

“Oh yes, you guys mentioned a book, right? Come in, we’ll discuss it inside.” Donald waved his hand for the group to follow him inside the sailboat, Panchito trotted beside Donald, wrapping an arm around Donald’s shoulders as the two started their own conversation, Bendy lifted his arm slightly towards Y/n, causing her

To look at his arm with a puzzled expression, until quickly after she caught on and wrapped her arm

around his arm, but Y/n took sight of Oswald when she glanced over her shoulder to him, he trailed behind, and Y/n noticed a look of contemplation on his face, she then decided to unhook her arm from Bendy’s. Bendy slowly stopped walking and looked over at Y/n.

“What’s wrong?” He asks her, Y/n motioned towards Oswald.  “You go in, I’m gonna have a talk with Oswald,” she said, Bendy looked at Oswald

For a moment, who noticed the two stopped walking and he did too. Bendy looked back at the sailboat and then back at Y/n. She motioned for him to go in with her hand. “Get Donald caught up, we’ll be in there soon.” She said, Bendy nods before walking off without a second thought, looking away from Bendy’s retreating form, she heard footsteps near her, looking back over to her opposite side she saw Oswald standing next to her.

“You seem a bit disconnected.” She started, Oswald ears raised as he stared at the open door of the sailboat house, the golden warm glow spilled from the corridor. 

Y/n could only assume it was because of the sudden occurring events from the past few hours and the fact that Oswald kidnapped the odd man that they all know could obviously deem him as their enemy.

Looking away from the boat, Y/n looked at Oswald, though he didn’t turn to look at her, instead he spoke slowly.

“No, no, I’m fine. Just exhausted.” Which was partially true, Oswald wasn’t able to get a good amount of sleep last night back at the studio nor in the car on their way to Oregon, Duckburg, but that was only a portion of his obscure change of emotions. Looked around at the quiet dock that led to a small neighborhood, Y/n turned around and walked back over the car, parked on the side by the sidewalk she spoke to Oswald. “Come on, we’ll talk in the car.” She said as she walked to the car to unlock it, which was surprisingly still unlocked. Oswald looked at her for a moment with wide eyes, he was...surprised, no one really took the chance to speak to him, whether that would be on a serious and

personal level, or just in general. So, he followed her.

Once inside the car, with Y/n sitting in the driver seat, she stared out the window for a moment, looking up at the dark sky, the stars shining in the sky and the full moon shining down on the quiet neighborhood, the chirping of crickets in the thickets and bushes and the the buzzing of cicadas hiding in the trees, leaning back in the chair the cool air was now crisp and comfortable to sit out in without having the car running for heat to not freeze the death. Oswald sat in the passenger seat and closed the door once he was seated. 

Once hearing the door close Y/n looked back over at Oswald. “I didn’t know you knew Donald,” she tried to start the conversation with the rabbit, Oswald rested his elbow on the arm rest of the car as he looked at Y/n. “Yeah, we know each other, we go way back. I guess you can say.” He answered her. Y/n nods before looking back to the drivers side of the window, she didn’t know much about Oswald to sit and interrogate him about how distant he reacted to certain things, she really didn’t know him enough to demand him to spill his problems to her—if he even had any to begin with and it’s just Y/n misinterpreting his emotions—which she hope it wasn’t that latter. She was trying to find the comfortable route to have Oswald speak to her if he was upset about something, to her, it was better to have a group that’s all on the same page and agree with each other. But, Oswald seemed to already start the conversation himself.

“I uh—want to apologize when we were at the studio, and I agreed with Bendy,” he starts. Y/n tried to think back on what he meant, she took a few moments and realized the small meeting they all had back at the studio with Alice and Boris. Looking back at him, she waved her hand lightly, as if dismissing the thought.

“Oh no, you’re fine—you guys are right, we need to focus on what really matters,” though she slightly agreed with her own statement, she was still on the fence with the 2nd problem growing at hand with society, but thinking on it more...there’s not much she can do to change the mind of society. 

“So, tell me about yourself? What do you like to do?” She asks, folding her hands on her stomach so she can put her full attention on Oswald. Oswald’s ears rose, almost touching the roof of the car. “Well, I didn’t expect that question for you—hm...let’s see. I like to travel, I love to meet new people, I used to collect enamel pins, but I gave them away.” He names off several things, and Oswald seemed pretty much like an average toon.

“Why’d you sell the pins?” Y/n asked. Oswald only shrugged slightly, he didn’t have an explanation for that—or just didn’t want to tell her. 

“Just didn’t want to keep up with them anymore.” Was his only answer. Nodding, Y/n was silent for a moment.

“How often do you get out?”

“Not as much as I should—what are you my therapist now?” He joked playfully at Y/n’s question, Y/n smiled before shaking her head.

“So, are you really lucky or do you just assume you are?” That question was actually at the back of her head for hours, Last night when Oswald was angry that his ‘luck’ was gone and then later that night, it came back with the situation with the semi-truck rolling, which—that was pretty damn lucky.

Oswald seemed to smile smugly and slick his ears back as if slicking down a hairstyle. “I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but—I am a fairly lucky rabbit.” He winks, Y/n laughs at his silly expression.

“Okay then, hopefully that luck will help us out along the way,” Oswald snorted and shook his head lightly.

“Eh, I dunno, Donald’s luck is pretty bad.”

“He has bad luck?” 

“Unluckiest Duck, no one gets stuck with all the bad luck than Donald Duck,” Oswald said. That was interesting, bad luck and good luck? That surely must come in handy.

Sitting in silence looking out the windows and taking in the serene silence. Oswald felt..happy and at peace that someone took a time from their day to have a short one on one conversation with him. 

“Hey!” Oswald and Y/n looked over towards the passenger side window to see Panchito in the doorway on the sailboat. He waved his hand for the two to come onto the boat.

“Come on!”

-

Walking into the boat house, the warm air coaxed Y/n’s figure, Bendy was busy speaking with Donald, he took Y/n’s book bag which had the book in it, Donald was—surprised, not only had the book opened for him—as they all suspected in the first place, this was an odd scenario he had ever been in! Watching as Donald then placed his hand on the book, as the four had done before, he quacked in surprisement when the golden  light traced his hand on the page and wrote his name down.

Donald looked down at his palm and then the book, Bendy placed the book on the table that he and Donald were standing near.  “Well! That’s that, welcome to the team,” Bendy grinned at Donald, who looks over at Panchito, Oswald and Y/n—who were all watching him.

“Well—what’s next then?” He asked, Bendy closed the book and placed it back into Y/n’s bag. “Well, we can’t say, we so far have been only looking for the rest of the team.” Oswald answered, Y/n nods.

Donald looked at the group and thought for a mere second.

“Well, how about this? You all stay here tonight, and when morning comes, we have a meeting on what the next move should be, you all drove all the way here, so rest should be the first thing in the list.” Y/n was glad not only did Donald have them somewhere to stay, but to seemingly be someone on the team to make the plans—and Y/n could only imagine how much structure they would need in their growing team.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Y/n answered, Bendy then motions towards Y/n. “Well, the lady said it fellas,” he said. 

“I call the couch.” Oswald made a straight walk to the couch that was a few meters away, Y/n realized the living room and kitchen was attached, not much of a surprise as this was a small section of the sailboat that could be lived in, small, but

Comfortable for one person.

“So, Donald, are you going to be tagging along with us whenever we leave town?” Y/n walked over to the table Donald was still standing at, next to Bendy. Donald smiled and nodded. “Oh man, will I?! I’ve been meaning to get outdoors in some time, Spending time with my best pal—“ he looked over at Panchito, who wandered over to stand beside Bendy and then Donald looked at Y/n.

“And you guys as well! This would be great.”  He replies, that’s good! He wanted to tag along, making things a lot easier. “Ah? Wonderful, this should be fun, I have all these wonderful people around me!”

Panchito extends his arms, motioning towards everyone in the room, a wide smile stretched onto his beak. 

“Do any of you have an idea where the others might be located?” Donald asks, Panchito’s arms lowered to his side, Bendy then shook his head.

“We don’t have a clue, but the book for the most part led us to the right people. So, we’ve pretty much been relying on the book to be our guide.” Bendy replied, Y/n agreed with him, yes. For the most part they have been just blindly following that book to lead them to the right person, which for the most part has been proving itself as good. Donald seemed to make a questionable expression, but shrugged it off. If they managed to find him, who was he to disagree with how they were doing their seeking game to find the rest of the team.

He walked over to a corridor on the side of the room, that seemed to be a small hallway. “I’ll go and get more blankets, I’ll be right back.” Donald then disappeared down the halls, Panchito, Y/n and Bendy watched before the three looked at each other. 

“This was a lot easier than I expected.” Y/n said. 

“Tell me about it, I thought it would take ages to find the guy.” Bendy walked over to the couch that Oswald was busy occupying, placing the book bag on the side of the couch before sitting down. Despite being asleep for half the ride, Y/n did feel fatigue start to seep into her body, despite the fact she was asleep for the majority of the ride, she was still tired from not being able to properly sleep in the car. 

“Can we get breakfast tomorrow? All day we’ve been running off of chips.” Y/n pipes up, her optics slowly observing the decor of the room, a pretty simple living with, with a couch—one love seat, a coffee table and a TV. Oswald was about to answer Y/n until Donald walked back in with a pile of blankets, which were really 2 blankets, he stumbled over to the couch due to the big blankets causing him to loose footing slightly, dumping the blankets between Oswald and Bendy, Donald let out a sigh of relief.

“There, those are the ones I could find, if you need anymore I can go get more.” Donald said. Oswald looked at the blankets and shook his head. “This should be fine, Donald. Thanks.”

Y/n grabbed a blanket and tugged it from the pile, The blanket was big enough to sleep just fine—not that it mattered? Any sort of blanket or pillow Donald would have gave her she would have gracefully taken, she wasn’t complaining—after all they all were at his home.

Walking over to the love seat, she took notice that Panchito was seated on one side of it, Though, there was still space for her to sit down next to him, which she did. Panchito noticed and turned his head to look at her with a smile.

And for the rest of the night, it was filled with silence and...sleep.

-

“Okay. I’m not gonna tell ya’ this another time, mutt.”

The lights flickered on, Boris squinted his pie cut shaped eyes at the sudden light, a small grunt escaping his mouth. He was sitting at a desk that was cluttered with paper—music notes—and other blank pieces of unused paper, the desk lamp turned towards him, the light shining in his eyes as Boris was squinting his eyes to get the light from his face.

“Where’s Bendy…” 

Sammy stood across the desk, his hand on the neck of the lamp that was pointing at Boris, a suspicious expression written in his face, his question—sounded more like a statement than a question. Boris' eyes flicked up and down Sammy, who still had that suspicious glint in his eyes.  Boris soon rolled his eyes.

“Out of town, like Henry told us.”  Was his simple answer, Sammy scoffed before pushing himself away from the desk. 

“Ah, bullshit. Do you really think I’ll fall for that? He’s up to something.”

“He’s always up to something.” Boris blankly added in, Sammy waved his hand, As if dismissing Boris to make him silent.

Soon, a new voice popped in.

“Samuel, can we please leave now? I need to read over the new script that just came in, and you’re wasting my time.” Boris and Sammy looked over, Alice was seated in a chair as well, behind the desk—next to Boris. Boris' ears perked up.

“When did you get here?” He asked. Alice sighed before turning her gaze to Sammy, her leg crossed over the other.

“Now, darling. What is it that you want? As said, Bendy’s on a short vacation, most likely to get away from you and ya’ bickerin, you had him behind the eight ball making him practice his music segments,” Alice was very fluent in her words, covering up the fact that she indeed knew where and what Bendy and the others were at and their objective, but she was a strong toon and wasn’t going to break or falter under Sammy’s gaze.

Sammy lifted the corner of his lips in a quick scoff.

“I wasn’t pushing him, he was the one who can’t keep a straight alto for one verse. But that’s besides the point. Alice? Weren’t you the one that grew suspicious of him from that night? You were basically all around the studio yapping about putting the fella in a stronghold for keeping a secret,”

Alice looked at Sammy for a moment, the cogs in her brain turning.. was she really that mad? Wow, she needs to work on that.

“I’m over it now, not my business.” She  crossed her arms, Sammy sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Fine, I got work to do anyway.” He turned around and walked over to the side of the room, flicking on the lights in the meeting room, he then opened the door.

“And don’t forget, practice your lines, This is the 3rd time this week you forgot a whole verse, Alice.” He said as he walked out the room, closing the door behind him. Alice watched the door for a moment.

“What’s his deal?” She asks Boris, Boris tapped the table with his index finger. “Most likely mad he can’t finish a drafted music sheet.” 

She stood up from the seat, dusting her black dress. Taking a small sigh she then looked over at Boris.  “Okay. Back to the real news, have you collected anything last night? Any information?” She asks the wolf. Boris thought for a moment. 

“Hmm..I dunno. Nothin’ too eye catchin’, I would remember more if you didn’t hit me in the head.” He eyed Alice for a moment before standing up from the seat, Alice only hummed before going back to task at hand.

“Well, I couldn’t find much of anything last night either, other than Tommy’s small infatuation with pine cones.” She said. Alice walks around the desk, and over to the door, Boris follows behind her as the two exit the room and into the hallway. It was the next day—9AM to be exact and many people were already in the studio, doing their jobs and whatnot.

“So. Why do we need to be the lookout for intel again?” Boris asks. Lifting a hand to scratch behind his ears. Alice walked down the hall with a confident stride in her step. She fixed her silky hair before she pushed up two doors that led to the office area of the building.

“Boris, hun—we’ve been over this.” Alice said. The sound of people chattering, keyboards, paper and other machines filled the air. Walking over to a desk—similar to the receptionist desk at the lobby of the building—Boris stood next to Alice as the two looked at Annie who was looking through a set of papers.

“Sorry we’re late Mrs. Bell. Sammy had us in a hold again.” Alice smiled at the lady. Annie looked away from the papers and to Boris and Alice. Giving the two a welcoming smile she lifted two stacks of paper and placed them on the desk, in front of Alice and Boris. 

“Ah, no worries dear. Here’s the new scripts that just came in last night. I gave Henry’s Bendy’s script whenever the fella gets back in town.” Annie told the two. Alice nods as she lifted a pen from a cup that was on the desk and wrote her name down in the screenplay—to keep track of it.

“So, how has your mornin’ been Ms. Bell?” Boris asked. Though he didn’t take his eyes off the screenplay.

Annie had gone back to organizing the many papers on the desk—she always wanted all her desk organized.

“Pretty well, got here early since my nephew went back to Colorado for school and I didn’t have to make him breakfast—Henry told me earlier he saw a restaurant that didn’t Allow toons. Turns out there’s a law now that has been passed about a week ago where any human that doesn’t feel safe about toons has the will to not allow them in certain establishments. Crazy because I never even been notified from any article or news report about the crazy new law—to be honest that’s just horrible.”

This caused Alice to fumble in whatever else she was writing on the paper, the crooked line on the paper was soon ignored as Alice looked at Annie. Boris did the same as well. Annie sighs and shakes her head.

“I know Deary. Disappointing. I never knew this would be like this. The board last night had a meeting with Henry. Lately there have been some complaints from parents that Bendy’s appearance is too inappropriate for the kids, you know. Since he resembles a demon and all. But—that’s an issue we can’t fix no matter the complaints—but—he said that the board wants the entire cast out for a meet and greet to show a good face for the show—you know. Not to have any heads start turning to us with this whole toon debacle. Last thing we need is people trying to talk bad about you all just because.” Annie said. Boris tilts his head slightly.

“They want us to do a character meet and greet to show that we’re...good? Basically. Tha—“

“Seems like a bunch of bologna!” Shouts a scruff voice. Alice sighs as her shoulders sunk. An expression of annoyance written on her face. Three toons walks over, the show's antagonists— yet 3 silly and lovable characters.

Charley, Barley and Edgar. The one speaking, the head honcho, Charley. The toon pushed Boris and Alice over to squeeze between them. Lifting a forearm to lean on the desk and look at Annie.

“3 screenplays, if ya’ will. Make it snappy.”  He grins. Annie only lets a small laugh out, picking up three screen plays. She hands them over to Charley, he takes them and toss them behind his back, the three script books flew in the air and back down—aiming right above the eyepatch wearing toon, Barley.

Barley looks up and the two scripts fall onto him, causing him to fall to the ground with a; “oof!” He lifts a hand up as if to say something, but the 3rd script falls onto him with a loud; Thud!

“So, where’s Ben-man? Am I late to somethin’ or what? And why the hell is Sammy runnin’ around shoutin? We ain’t even start blocking the script yet.” Charley stands up straight and looked between the three.

“And what’s with the faces?”

“We!—“ Alice clears her throat from the sudden shout—she didn’t have time for Charley and his obnoxious and egotistical attitude! She was

More focused on speaking with Annie about the discussions Henry had with the board.  

“We were discussing something, Charley. Now if you don’t mind. Can we continue it without you being a disruption.” Alice places her hands together as she smiled at Charley, her cheeks prominent as she gave him an innocent expression. Her golden halo flickered for a moment. She was lying. 

Charley stared at her for a moment with furrowed eyebrows.

“What are ya’ bluenosin’ for? What are ya’ ladies gossiping about this time? I wanna know my onions too!” He looks over at Boris. 

“Yer in on this too or something’?! gee biz—what the hell am I? Dirt? Let me in too!” Charley then started to complain about not always being in on the fun. Alice signed and rubbed her temple at the complainants.

“Oh hush, Charley. Bendy is out of town. And we’re discussing how the board meeting went last night for Henry.” Annie stopped Charley from talking. Charley rose an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

“Oh? Ya’ meant how Henry’s been pullin’ his own hair about how the peeps have been getting angry about Bendy being a demon toon—if ya’ ask me. We should just put him back in a Tutu, that’ll make em’ shut up. Or are ya’ talkin’ about how Henry plans on Havin’ us interact with people at this kids birthday party next Friday.”

“A what?” Boris and Alice said in unison. Alice slammed her hands on the table.

“A birthday party?! What idea is that? How would that help the view on toons—that makes no sense!” Alice sighed and rubbed her forehead. Annie sighed softly.

“Well, Alice. It’s for the best right now. Business things—that’s what I also say when things don’t make sense.” Annie told Alice. 

“Squeak Squeak!” Edgar waddled over. Speaking in his own language of squeaks. Charley nods—understand what the spider toon said.

“Yeah, me too.” Charley agreed with..whatever it was

Edgar said.

Alice picked up her script and took Boris by the collar of his shirt and started to walk away.

“Thanks for the info, Annie. C’mon Boris. We got work to do.” Alice dragged Boris—he stumbled behind her, Edgar waved goodbye as Boris waved goodbye back. Barley still on the floor. Mounted by the three scripts and Charley looking at the two with squinted eyes.

“Is it me—or does she seem more quippier than usual?” Charley asks Annie. Annie raised an eyebrow.

“That’s not even a word.”

Edgar watched as Alice and Boris walked away. The spider toon followed after them, stepping over Barley—who was still on the floor and groaned when Edgar climbed over him. Charley noticed that the spider butcher was walking away.

“Ed, where are ya’ goin?” He calls out. But Edgar didn’t reply.

Meanwhile, Alice walked down the hall, muttering something under her breath, her halo flickering ever so slightly, Boris looked up at his angel friend halo and unhooked himself from her grip—which she didn’t seem to notice. Boris caught his balance and started walking next to Alice.

“Take a breather.  Who knows, maybe going to a kids birthday party to spend time with them won’t seem too bad after all.” Boris said in an optimistic tone, but Alice wasn’t having it. Scoffing—the angel shook her head before she turned around and moved to stand in front of Boris. Boris noticed and stopped walking as he gave her a puzzled expression.

“No, don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter how fun the party is! Why do we need to create this—this—this facade, to make sure the audience don’t look at us as if we’re the lunatic toons that are making those crimes, we already had that case with Joey—but that was a few years ago, but still—we’re alive just as much as humans are too—on goodness me, don’t even get me started on the restaurant issue—who do those people think they are—“ Alice went on and on, complaining, but it seemed more like she was venting. Which Boris took notice of. His ears slowly standing on its ends and his tail wagged quickly.

“Wait, Alice. You’re doing what we’ve read from those news articles, complaining.” Boris piped up, cutting Alice off. Alice looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Yes Boris, dear, obviously I’m complaining—isn’t that obvious—this is—“

“Toons are retaliating.” He cuts her off yet again. Alice stared at Boris. And soon caught whim of what he meant. Alice stared at Boris for a moment. Of course! Toons are reaching their end—they tired of being tossed around like—Well toons! How didn’t she and everyone else not see it to begin with?! It was bright as day.

“Squeak!” Alice looks over, behind Boris to see Edgar, Boris turns around and moves to stand next to Alice so he could look at the spider toon.

“Squeak squeak!” The spider started to squeak incoherently. Waving his two arms around—whatever it was, he wanted to tell Alice and Boris.

Boris only tilts his head in confusion, he could never understand a word Edgar was saying—but it seemed Charley and Barley could always understand their butcher friend just fine.

“What?” Boris muttered. Alice stared down at Edgar.

“Eddie, honey...I can’t understand you, we—you know this.” Alice said softly. Edgar slowly lowered his arms and looked between Alice and Boris. But he didn’t give it—he seemed very determined to tell the two whatever it was he needed to say.

Edgar hopped up and down. Baring his fangs as he came from his mouth. Soon lifting both his arms up, way above his head. Resembling ears before hopping around. Putting his two arms down he extended his arms as if aiming towards something he emitted a small; “pew! Pew!”

Then, he stood up straight and tall. As if to hold a broad and confident stature. 

“Uh—horseback riding!” Boris shouts. Alice made a noise before nudging her elbow into Boris’s arms. He grunts and looks at her. 

“What? I thought we were playing charades?” He said innocently.

“No, he’s obviously trying to tell us something, But I don’t know what it is..” Alice tapped her chin. Boris inhaled and was about to say something, but Alice cut him off.

“And it’s not horseback riding.” She told him. Boris deflated and his ears flattened against his head.

“I can never have fun..”

Edgar could see the two were still having problems understanding him. Standing there he tried to find a conclusion to make him more understandable. Soon, he scurried away down the hall. Alice opened her mouth to shout after him, but as quick as lighting. Edgar zipped back over and was holding a book—which was just some random novel he took from someone’s desk. Opening it, he dropped it to the floor and zipped away yet again—and back over! This time with a trench coat covering his body—due to him being a small toon. The coat mauled him slightly, but that wasn’t Alice’s concern. Edgar soon opened the trench coat, revealing himself—he wore pencil mustache by his—Well where his nose should have been.

Edgar let out squeaks similar to a cackle before he picked up the book and a triumphant expression rid his face.

“Wait…” Alice whispered. She placed a finger on her temple that...pencil mustache—it resembled someone she was familiar with.

“Boris—did you understand him?” Alice looked over at her Wolf friend. Boris looked away from Edgar who looked up at them with a gleam of hope.

“Uh—“ Boris' tail sagged slightly. Alice crossed her arms.

“Boris!”

“Hey! I’m running off of an oatmeal bar I ate this morning, give me a break!”

Alice waved Boris away before turning her head to look at Edgar. “Eddie, are you telling us you saw Bendy with three others?” Alice asked Edgar. And he nods! She was right! She was on the right page! And not only that—she got answers! A lead! Gosh, she sounded like a detective.

“Were they a rabbit, a rooster and girl?” She asks yet again. And he nods. 

“Where were you when you saw them?” 

Edgar points up to the ceiling. 

“Stargazing? I know right, I heard the stars were out that night, did you see any shooting stars?” Boris asks. Edgar shook his head frantically before pointing up at the ceiling again. Alice raised an eyebrow.

“So, you weren’t outside?” 

He shook his head.

“Then where were you?” She asks. And yet again, he points to the ceiling, this time she looks up and sees a vent. Looking back down at him she then wondered;

“You were in the vents? Why?” She asks. Edgar only shook his head side to side as if saying; ‘so-so’

“Long story?”

“Squeak squeak.”

“How come you didn’t tell Charley and Barley?” She asks.  Edgar shook his head before baring his teeth and lifting his hands up to his head resembled horns.

“You knew Bendy wouldn’t want that?” She asks. And he nods. 

“So you saw whoever was in that trench coat the others were telling me about? Bendy told me and Boris everything. But have you seen that man in the trench coat?” Edgar shivers at Alice question before

Nodding. He pointed at the pencil mustache that was still on his face.

“Well whoever it is has a mustache.” Boris said. Edgar nods—but he didn’t end there. He motioned around their surroundings, as if signaling the area.

“I don’t understand you..” Alice said—shaking her head. What did he mean? What did he mean?

“Do you know for sure all the details on who was in that coat?” Alice asks. Edgar paused momentarily, shaking his hand; so-so—like he did before.

“How did you even see em’ you followed them?”

Edgar bashfully nods his head. 

“You know this would be much easier if we just had Charley translate for us. No offense, Edgar.” Boris quips. Alice shook her head. “What? No, I

Specifically told the others that whatever they shared with me and you before they left town, stays between us. I mean..come on Boris—they have a stolen book, we can’t just go around telling anyone. Most certainly not Charley and Barley, Edgar is now an exception because it’s obvious he has more in depth details about what he saw, plus. I like him.” Alice placed a hand on Edgar’s head. The arachnid smiled and purred softly.

Boris crossed his arms.  “Biased much. But fine, we’ll do it your way..”

“There is no, ‘my way’—it’s the most reasonable way

So no one gets in trouble.” Alice reasoned with Boris. Boris hummed in acknowledgment. 

“Okay, well can he at least write it in a piece of paper? I hate charades—it’s giving me a headache.”

“Fine, let’s go, then later in, we’ll have to contact the others—Detective Alice—wow, never knew I would hear that title—sounds catchy!” She boasted and turned around to walk down the hall with a cheerful stride in her step.  Edgar follows behind, squeaking happily.

“Oh brother..”  Boris muttered and face palmed before dragging himself to follow Alice and Edgar.

-

Y/n was still asleep on the loveseat. The blankets was lifted close to her face—cascading her in warmth. Her head leaned in the armrest of the couch. One leg posted up on the other armrest as her other leg hung off the couch. 

Slam!

The front door opened harshly and stumbled in..Panchito.

This caused Y/n to flinch. Her heart jumping in her throat as she sat up quickly. Bendy was asleep on the floor, and his head was under the coffee table. When he flinched and sat up. His head hit the table. His hand shot up and held his head as he grunted painfully. Oswald slowly opened his eyes. Which were squinted.

“Panchito—what—why aren’t you asleep? Why are you outside? What’s wrong?” Y/n rubbed her eyes, the blanket fell off her as Panchito walked into the living room.

“I have found—this!” He extended his arms and opened his palm. Showcasing...a turtle. A small turtle. 

“I found this little guy by the dock! Isn’t he so cute! I will name him. BB—no! Chirp. Because when I found him. He was making a chirping sound—“

Bendy soon got up and walked over to Panchito.

“Did you really wake us up for a stupid turtle? Go throw it out!” 

“Can you guys keep your voices down please, gosh..” Oswald turned his back towards the three and lifted the blanket to his face. Panchito moved the turtle away from Bendy—so the demon wouldn’t try anything as he suspected.

“But—he is so cute. Look at him.”

“It’s a turtle. Put it back.”

“No!”

“Hey!” Oswald shouts before sitting up and turning to look at Bendy and Panchito. The two looked over at the rabbit.

“Cut it out! It’s too early for all that!”

“Actually.” Donald suddenly appeared in the room. Standing near the front door. The sun is brighter than usual. All the way in the sky. Which was odd for a morning sunrise...

“It's 1 in the afternoon.”

-

Placing the book on the hood of the car. Y/n opened it and started flipping through the papers to find the map. The sun was out and it was pretty hot out. Finding the map yet again been marked with a small ink dot, the last ink dot that marked Oregon was gone.  But—that didn’t matter. Seeing Idaho was marked for their next location was a big relief as Y/n was glad they didn’t have to travel overseas to get anyone. And the fact that Idaho was next door to Oregon—the drive wouldn’t be no longer than maybe 8 hours.

“Okay guys, the next location is Idaho.” Y/n turned around and looked at the four toons that waited for her. Donald raised an eyebrow.

“Idaho? What’s in Idaho?” He asks. Bendy snickered and looked over at Donald.

“I don’t know—pppft—get it? Idaho? I don’t know? Hahaha!” He burst out laughing at his corny joke—that really wasn’t a joke to begin with, but he found humor

In it. Oswald lowered his ears and gave Bendy a fearful expression. Looking between Bendy and Y/n—who didn’t even crack a smile at the joke. Oswald spoke up.

“He—he uh...he doesn’t do this often...right?” He asks her. And Y/n hope he didn’t, sitting in a car for 8 hours listening to puns and jokes? She'd rather walk the way there or catch a bus.

“What? No one likes my joke? C’mon! That was hilarious!” Bendy was still laughing through his words. Panchito was silent for a moment. At first he didn’t get it, until he muttered it under his breath again. Soon a look of realization took over.

“Oooh! I get it! Ahaha!” Panchito laughed along with Bendy. “That’s the stupidest joke I’ve ever heard.” Donald said. A blank expression on his face. Not even moved by the joke. Y/n closed the book and walked over the car door and opened the passenger seat.

“Alright! Come on! Let’s hit the road please, I wanna be there before nightfall.”

-

Y/n watched as the many cornfields passed by—leaving Duckburg about 2 hours ago with no hassle. And it was good that they didn’t need

To take a break. Though, now, with five people in the car, there wasn’t much room as there was to begin with. Oswald did squeeze back up into the front to

Sit in the passenger seat with Y/n again. Panchito and Donald were catching up with each other, talking about their own business. The book was on Y/n’s lap as an hour ago, she was looking through the papers just out of curiosity. Oswald did seem to be on the verge of drifting off to sleep. 

But after 40 or so minutes passed. They were now driving in a small town located at the edge of Oregon called ‘WallowDale’—which Y/n knew nothing about. Looking at the green welcome sign. It seemed like a pretty generic town, more so how Y/n would see it as from those cliche TV shows with the kids that lived in the small towns where everyone knew everyone. The town seemed peaceful and nice—the mountain's way in the distance gave such a serene atmosphere. 

“You think they have a diner down here somewhere? We should get something to eat.” She said to no one in particular. Oswald opened his eyes—he wasn’t sleeping, more enjoying the sound of the car driving down the road to replace the fact he was abruptly woken up in the morning, or, the afternoon to be correct.

Bendy heard Y/n and snapped from his train of thought from whatever he was thinking about.

“Yeah. I guess food sounds good right about now.”

-

Stretching, Y/n lets out a strained groaned, feeling relief of the tension leaving her legs, even though they only made it almost 4 hours in the car, she needed to stretch her legs. The soft wind traveled between her fingers and the sun coaxed her in its warmth. Looking ahead of her, Y/n looked at the small establishment—a family owned diner. 

“Wow, it looks nice in this town!” Oswald whistled as he took in the small Argo-town. It seemed a bit rural—yet a comfortable place to be.

One of the kids that were seated in the pavement watched as the five got out of the car. A look of awe ridden on his face. The chalk the kid was playing with slipped from his hand and onto the pavement. Toons—they were toons! He’s never seen them before! 

Y/n heard the kid gasp and she looked over at the kid to see his eyes glued on her four tooney friends.

“Is this a parking meter?” Bendy didn’t pay attention to the kid—as he didn’t see him, but had his focus on the parking meter. Oswald was standing next to Y/n—but had his attention still in his surroundings and Panchito and Donald were still talking.

The kid waved at Y/n once moving his gaze to her. She smiled at him and waved as well. The kid raised his chalky hands to his mouth and smiled bashfully. What a cutie.

“Okay, come on.”

-

Inside the diner, classic 50s rock music was heard. The smell of food—whatever was cooking wafted in the air and it smelled delicious! The AC was on, and it immediately cooled down Y/n and the others. Y/n could see the theme of the retro diner, some people were dancing by a jukebox, which caught her attention. She stopped walking and watched as at least 7 people were dancing by the jukebox fluently and gracefully! Some people in their booths and seats clapping along to the music and cheering the people. 

“Hm—impressive.” Oswald said. Panchito‘s feathers shook as he hopped from one talon to the other, dancing along with the music rather silly like. This caused Y/n to laugh, a smile widening.

“I like it here. It’s nice. Don’t you guys think?” She asks the four. Donald quickly nods. “I hadn’t heard about this town, but man isn’t this place snazzy.” He said. His eyes trailing over the details in the restaurant. 

“I agree.” Oswald agrees. Looking away from the people dancing and over to Panchito who just needed to move—dance. He took ahold of Y/n’s hands? Which caught her by surprise. But she did happily hop around with the rooster. Bendy looked away from the walls of old black and white pictures that caught his attention. Looking over at Panchito and Y/n dancing, a smile quickly appeared on his face.

Afterwards a stout man pushed the flappy doors open that led to the kitchen. He lets out a boisterous laugh, holding a silver serving player with a plate of food on it. He held a spatula and with that spatula he ringed a service bell.

“Jeremy! Your food is ready!” He shouts. Placing the plate on the counter. He must have been a chef as his white stained apron gave it away.

Y/n lets go of Panchito's hands once hearing the loud voice.

“Ay! Alex! The hot cakes are delicious!” Shouts at a customer. Alex—who Y/n assumed the chef's name was. Laughs and waved his head.

“Thank ya! Thank ya! Now—“ the room went silent as the majority of the diners' customers looked over at the chef, was he about to make an announcement?

“I’m glad you all are here fer’ me and my sweet gal’s anniversary! Ain’t that right, shnookums?” Alex placed a hand on the wall and gave it a love filled expression. Bendy gagged, causing Y/n to nudge him to shush him.

“This building brought me many memories! Fifty years everyone! Alex’s Diner!” The customers clapped and cheered for the owner—now that Y/n realized. Alex smiled and nodded at the annocumemt and the cheers.

“Thank you, thank you—and I—“ he immediately stopped talking when his eyes landed in Y/n and four others. An eyebrow raised at the group...were they..not supposed to be there? The eyes on them caused an anxiety to start bubbling in Y/n. Was this a private event? What happened?! Her fingertips went cold and immediately her throat went dry.

“May I help you all? Are you folks lost?” Alex asks. Y/n opened her mouth to speak. Her hands wringing around the straps of her book bag.

“Hi—I’m—we’re sorry. We wanted to eat something and leave, but if you all are having an event, we can just leave?” She didn’t want to make her statement sound like a question, but he did anyway.

“Did you all read the sign before coming’ in?” Alex asks, though his question sounds like a trick question. A hint of sarcasm in his voice? It was something!

Y/n gave a wavering smile. Grabbing Panchito by his wrist, Oswald by his wrist and grabbing onto Donald and Bendy’s tie, she started to back away, bringing them with her.

“Oh? So this is an event. We’ll be on our way then.” She quickly said—stupid move! Why didn’t she see it from the beginning instead of blindly walking in.

“No-no! Dear, come! Sit, I will serve you!” Alex waved a hand to beckon her over to the stool at the counter. Y/n stopped walking and felt a bit of relief.

“Your friends will have to wait outside though.” Was his catch. Y/n hands slipped from her friends. She glanced behind her, to see no one. Who was he talking to?

“Us?” Panchito asked. Pointing a thumb to his chest. Alex nods.

“Yes sir, In case you four toons hadn’t read—“ Alex reached behind the counter and pulled out a flip sign. A pale blue lining around the board and in black words read; ‘No Toons Allowed’

“What?!” Donald shouts abruptly. But, Alex nods. “Yep, but I can serve the young lady. Come sit, I’ll get you something, on the house, dear.” 

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows...when was that a thing? And why was it allowed? That can’t be! It had to be his own store policy.

“This is your store policy?” Y/n asks. 

“Countrywide law. Just been accepted as a new optional choice for business owners like myself. Love it or hate it, it’s my rule. Now come sit.”

“No! She’s not sitting, Y/n, let’s go.” Donald took a hold of Y/n’s wrist and started to walk towards the door, but Oswald stopped Donald.

“No, she can stay and eat if she wants, she hasn’t eaten all day, we’ll be fine.” Oswald swatted Donald’s hand away from Y/n’s wrist. Which he lets go. Donald crumbled under his breath.

“Ay—girly. You gonna let these toons decide for you?” One customer asks. Y/n looks over to the customer. But ignores him. Bendy slightly nudged Y/n to

The door. “She makes her own decision just fine, thank you.”

“Bendy—no, if Y/n wants to eat here, then she can. Come on, we’ll wait outside.” Oswald said, once again nudging Bendy away, Bendy swatted Oswald’s hands.

“Ay! Keep yer’ hands off me, I already had to listen to Mr. Sal over here.” Bendy threw an insult at Alex. Which took note of. Alex raised an eyebrow and looked at Bendy.

“You got a problem with me, pal?” Alex crosses his eyes before eyeing Bendy. Bendy tsked and strolled over to the counter.

“All the problems, ya’ old geezer!” 

“Well shit..” Y/n muttered under her breath.

“Panchito! Do something.” Oswald whispered under his breath to the rooster. Panchito—didn’t seem to have a plan in mind. He’s never been in a situation like this before.

“Oh please? If I don’t want a couple of pencil strokes waltzing into my fine diner! Then I damn sure don’t one walking in, especially you demon look alike.”

“Hey!” Y/n shouts.

“Don’t talk to him like that!”  She glared at the owner. Alex looked at Y/n and squinted his dark eyes. “You lookin’ for trouble too, kid?” 

“You wanna get to her? You’ll have ta’ get through me. Pork. Chop.” Bendy points his gloved hand at Alex’s nose. The customers murmured in shock.

“Alright! Party’s over.” An accented voice shouts. Panchito, Oswald and Donald moved away from the entrance of the diner. A sheriff walked in. His boots and spurs clicking—for whatever reason he was wearing them..

The shades in his face was dark and he held a toothpick in the corner of his mouth. Donald panicked—Panchito—they almost forgot! He can’t be seen! Looking around quickly. Donald picked up an empty mop bucket and slammed in on Panchito’s head. Panchito wobbled almost dazed like at the sudden impact. The sheriff looked over. At Donald, who nervously smiled at him, leaning his elbow on the bucket that was on Panchito’s head as if he were casually leaning. 

“You toons heard the man. No service. Now scram unless you all want a free ride to the office.” The officer  told the group.

Y/n rubbed her clammy hands together and walked over to Bendy and grabbed him by his tie and dragged him away from the counter. Him and Alex staring each other down. They needed to leave immediately before that officer found out about Panchito and the book—which would be tough to do—but she felt that any officer would have eyes like a hawk that can find out just about anything.

Pushing the doors  open, strolling back outside. Y/n ran her hands through her hair.

“That was..that was something new.” She said. Walking over to the car and opening the passenger door. Bendy fixed his tie.  “When did that become a...thing.” He grunts. Hinting towards the new Policy. Or, law.

“Whatever it is, we need to be more careful and start reading, that’s for sure.” Donald said, taking the bucket off of Panchito’s head. Panchito blinked at the sunlight and lifted a hand to rub his head under his sombrero. 

“You toons got kicked?” Asked a voice. Bendy didn’t even bat an eye as he had his eyes closed, trying to think of a new place to eat at.

“Not now, Oswald…” Bendy muttered. Oswald slowly closes the car door once he opens it.

“I didn’t even say anything..” Oswald said. Y/n looks at Oswald and then Bendy.

“You heard that too?” Y/n asks. And Oswald nods quickly. “Me too.” Donald adds.

“Oh my g—-down here you Idiots!” Donald quacks and his hands quickly flew to his tail feathers. Quickly standing next to Y/n with an angry expression. “Hey! What’s the big I-“ he stopped in his track when he saw a small toon—a bird—a blue bird. Y/n squints her eyes. 

“You kinda look like the birdie in my neighborhood.” Y/n said. The bird nods. “That’s because I am sweet cheeks.” The bird—really packed a voice. His voice was much deeper than you would expect from a dainty little bird. Panchito gasped.

“Whoa? Have you followed us? What a cute litt—“

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Oswald told Panchito, his hands up to shield his face as if the bird would attack him instead of Panchito.

“Hey! What’re guys doin? Come on—we gotta hit the road.” Bendy walked around the car and

Looked at the four. Y/n motioned towards the blue bird. “Talking bird.” She told him. Bendy looked at her and turned  to look at the bird. The five standing next to each other as they all looked down at the bird.

“I’ll make this quick and easy! Alright, my name is BB, short for blue bird—thank the narrator.”

No no, thank you, Blue Bird.

“Who?” Y/n raised an eyebrow as she looked around for whoever the blue bird could have mentioned.

“Oooh! I was going to name my turtle that!” Panchito smiled. Oswald squinted his eyes before looking at Panchito.

“Where did that turtle go anyway?” He asks. Panchito deflates.

“Bendy threw him to the pound. mi corazón está triste…” Panchito sighs.

BB looked at the group and shook his head slowly...they all were so...silly.

“Never mind that.” BB said. But it didn’t stop there, Y/n raised her hand.

“You kinda sound like Samuel L. Jackson.” She said. Donald shook his head and tapped his beak.

“I was thinking more like Morgan Freeman.” Donald adds. Y/n then nods and lets out a laugh. The two snickered together. The bird whistles to catch their attention.

“Attention, please”

“Right, sorry.”

“Sorry.”

“Now, I’m your guide to help you. It may seem crazy. But I’ve been guiding you all this entire time—well. You all have been technically guiding yourselves, and I am so proud of this team of what it’s made. Especially the night when you three found each other.” BB looked at Y/n, Panchito, Bendy and Oswald. 

“So...you’re the book?” Panchito asks. BB shook his head.  “No, I’m not. The book is itself of course. I’m a piece of it. The navigator. Donald, that paper you received. I sent it to you. I’m soul bound to the book—-promised from the kings eons ago for when the day comes, this book will fall in the right hands with the right people. That being you five—and more to come. I’m no guardian, no knight, god, or anything—too much. I’m your helper. Your guide. Look at me as your personal GPS.” BB finishes. Y/n nods slowly—it made sense on how the sudden times the book would know where to locate everyone.

“So, you’ve been marking down the locations on the map?” Y/n asks BB. And he nods. “Correct.”

“I suppose you’re also responsible for when the book randomly flies off?” Bendy asks, yet he holds sarcasm in his tone. A lot of it. 

“No, the book has a mind of its own, use ya’ brain. Or do demon toons have any?”

“Hey!”

“So, we’re heading to Idaho now. That’s where it’s marked off for our next location. Do you have any information on who we were supposed to run into?” Donald tilts his head as he asks the question.

BB tapped his talon on the pavement. “I’m only here to help guide. That’s information you all will collect.” 

“Would you happen to have any info on what’s going on?” Y/n asks. And BB shook his head.

“Guys. I’m a navigator. I was only created for this purpose only. Anything outside of helping the people that wields that book to getting where they need

 To be, that’s outside my realm.” He said. And he seemed genuinely sure about it. But Y/n wasn’t complaining. They had a navigator. And that’s all that matters.

Oswald scoffed. “Wait, how do we know you’re telling the truth?” He asks. BB motioned towards Y/n, more her book bag.

“I’m in the book. You can read about me! Now!” BB flapped his wings? Lifting off the air and his talon snapped and that same golden trail, shot down the road.

“Idaho, off you go.” The bird took off to the sky. Oswald blinked slowly and the five of them looked at the sky and saw the bird flapping away. Y/n looked back at the street...yeah. That was more than enough information. 

-

Two figures were tossed into a cage. The metal clanking together as the gate was slammed closed and locked. 

“Just wait till boss see these bad boys..” a voice chuckled. A toon stood in front of the gate. Staring at the two captured toons. Their kidnapper had characteristics of an animal as the 2nd one also as well. 

The toon inside the cage shot up and and started banging on the bars—he took the bars in both hands and shook them.

“Let me outta here! I oughtta give you a piece of my mind!” Shouts the toon as his kidnappers sauntered off somewhere on the side of the room. 

“Hey, Doug. You think boss’ll give us a raise cuz Zip and Zot lost the rabbit?” Asked one of the kidnapper toons to his co-worker—Doug. Doug was busy dialing on a phone, a cigar placed on the side of Doug’s mouth.

“He damn sho’ betta’, i ain’t hunt these good for nothing’s down for no bread—and Jack—shut that toon up—I CAN’T EVEN HEAR MYSELF THINK!” 

“Cuphead! Give it a rest!”

Ah yes, Cuphead and Mugman. The brothers that were always sewn to the hip. Always together, found themselves in a pickle…

Cuphead quickly turned around. His hands shot to his head. “Give it a rest?! We’ve been ‘napped Mugs—for some prissy uppity smoker—and his idiot side kick!” Cuphead shouts in anger. Mugman gave him a blank expression before blinking.

“You’re embarrassing me.”

Cuphead and Mugman stared at each other for a moment. Cuphead blinks. “What?! Mugs—I don’t have time for t—OW!” Doug grabbed a lot of Cuphead’s straw. Cuphead gagged as if he were choking and couldn’t breathe. Doug lifts the phone to his ear.

“Ay boss? How far are ya’ from downtown? We got your toons that witch told me about—a brand new one—-yeah—mmmhmm.” The kidnapper spoke on the phone and soon let go of Cuphead’s straw and walked Off to continue the conversation alone. Snapping his fingers at Jack—the second kidnapper. To watch

Cuphead and Mugman.

Cuphea gasped for air. Placing a hand in his chest. Mugman looked over at Jack. The...kidnapper wasn’t too on the bright side as he was..digging in his nose, not even paying attention to the two.

“Hello, sir?” Mugman calls out. Jack turns around and looks at Mugman—Cuphead gleaming at the toon.

“Hi, can you atleast tell us. Why are we here in this..” Mugman looked around the dim area, the spacious building resembled a warehouse.

“Warehouse? I presume?”

“Yuh.” Jack said. Mugman nods slowly.

“Why are we here?”

“Oh! Cuz boss needs y’all’s! He’s tryna plan sumn’ big! And the witch lady can feel people that a—-“

“Hey, ya big lug, shut up.” Cuphead told Jack...which he did…

Mugman glared at Cuphead.

“Why did you do that? He was gonna tell us something valuable and you went running your big mouth again, you nut!”

“Look at him—what makes you think he knows anything? I bet if you tell him to play under a beehive, he’ll do it! Look at him!” Cuphead and Mugman looked over at Jack, who was looking off into the spacious area. A small smile on his snout.

“Hey,  Jake?” Cuphead calls out. Jack looks at Cuphead and smiles. “It’s Jack.”

“Yeah, John. Anyway, when is your boss getting here?” He asks. But instead of Jack answering. Doug did. He stepped back into the room, arms behind his back with a menacing grin.

“He’ll be here soon. Very soon.”

There was silence...and then Cuphead spoke up.

“Okay good, because I guess I gotta speak to the higher ups to get it through you, and this idiots thick skull to let us go!!”

“Cuphead!”

-

A/n: this uh—took a longer time than I expected. Sorry. AND—sOrry the chapter is so long—I really hate short chapters, plus I have so much that I want to be seen in one chapter, But. I promise I’ll make it short in the future. I felt this character was as good as the first.

I’m sorry y’all don’t hurt me.

But! Hey, we got no characters! 😭

I do wanna say, I love the Butcher Gang. Especially Edgar. Such a delicate character.

But, I want to say thank you to all of you out there that commented and gave me support! Thank you!!! I did not expect this to go in anyone’s liking, and I am really surprised! So thank you!

❤️❤️❤️❤️

See you all in the next character. 😊

[roanniom]

Happy Friday Issa! Today I am thinking about Paterson, and what it would be like to end up on his bus one day by happenstance. It would be impossible not be smitten at first sight. I can't stop picturing the way his eyes would just bore into ours when he catches us staring in the rearview mirror. The blush that spreads over him would be just unreal. 😍🥺💜 Thanks so much for sharing nyour imagines with us!

Lovely Claire, as you know I’ve been excited to get to this one. Partly because I love Pat with all my heart and partly because I looked forward to bringing such a beautiful idea to life in that calm Paterson style. I hope you like this little story <3

Three Stops, Five Regulars, and You

Word Count: 2,152

Warnings: Really just sweetness, the slightest angst from ~yearning~

Paterson drives the same route every day. He knows the people who get on, where they board, and where they disembark. The sweet old lady who gets her groceries at the corner store on Tuesdays. The recent emigrant from Nigeria who sits in the front and practices English with the local florist as they both commute to different jobs in the same strip mall. The high school baseball player who acts rowdy in the back of the bus with his teammates until the teammates get off on Maple Street and he remains on for eight more stops, always moving to sit shyly with a girl Paterson has gathered to be the boy’s old English tutor.

But never you.

When Paterson opens his folding doors and you walk in, he is immediately struck by your newness. The way the planes of your face reflect no familiarity back onto him unsettles Paterson as you pass him by to take your seat a few rows down. He inhales the scent that wafts in your wake, trying to place it but, as with your features, he draws a blank. Freesia? Gardenia? Paterson blinks at the expanse of windshield before him in an attempt to ground himself in the here and now.

It’s a Friday afternoon, almost early evening.

He’s on 5th and Potomac.

Three more stops till he’s done with his shift.

Done to go home to a microwaved meal and a comfortable couch.

Five more regulars to get to their destination.

And you.

Paterson looks up then into the rearview mirror only to meet those unfamiliar eyes. Beautiful eyes, he registers somewhere in the back of his short-circuiting brain. Eyes that take him in through the mirror. Appraising him. He wonders what they see in him, these eyes that can’t possibly know him any more than his know you.

“Hey Pat, we outta gas or something, buddy?”

The good-natured tease comes from Ollie, the auto mechanic, sitting in his usual seat in row six. This does nothing to stop Paterson from jumping a foot into the air and muttering his apologies before clunking the bus into gear.

It takes Paterson several minutes of silent driving before he works up the courage to glance at the rearview mirror again. He argues with himself internally before he does so.

You’re probably not even looking anymore. No, it’s much more likely you’ve become engaged in polite conversation with another passenger or pulled out a book or lost yourself looking out the window, taking in the outside world with those beautiful eyes…

Or, less likely but much more anxiety-inducing, you could still be looking. Looking at the lanky bus driver with the goofy ears who stared like an idiot instead of doing his job. He kicks himself at the thought of the way he’d gaped at you. Openly and so out of character.

What he should have done was averted his eyes when you’d entered, waited a respectable amount of time, and then peered back a few times to catch a glimpse. He could have taken in the curve of your jaw, the arch of your brow, the turn of your nose, all without detection from the comfortable anonymity of the driver’s seat. Gone home and written a poem or two about the ethereal creature who’d gotten lost and found herself on his bus route, a sprite or a fairy who would disappear tomorrow like some Freesia-scented vapor, perhaps never really there to start.

But no. He’d looked. And you’d looked.

And now he looks again.

His eyes dart back to the road immediately and his pulse races.

You were looking.

Paterson takes a few deep breaths and minds a stop sign before he hazards a glance again.

Yes. Still looking.

But this time he notices the smile on your face. The lips he hadn’t noticed, being so far below your eyes as they were, your eyes which had been just about as far as he had gotten to this point. The smile is soft but amused. Your hand lifts up in a small wave and Paterson feels himself heat up all the way down to his sensible shoes. His ears burn and he brings his eyes back to the road by force of habit and in order to do his job of steering this bus full of people but for absolutely no other reason. Because now he has two different things that require his attention – your eyes and your lips. Both deserving of equal consideration.

When his eyes revisit the road he realizes the next stop is upon him. When the bus pulls to a halt and deflates down steadily to allow passengers to climb out, Pat counts the seconds with his heartbeat. Wondering if this is your stop. Knowing which stop it is for all other riders but you. Knowing Mr. McKinney will get off to see his nephew and that the kind goth boy whose name he doesn’t know is off to the library with music blaring in his ears. Paterson nods to each of them as they pass, but does not look up to see them, opting instead to stare straight ahead.

When his peripheral vision doesn’t show him your retreating figure Paterson looks up to find you still in your seat, this time sitting lower. More comfortable. But still looking. Still smiling.

Involuntarily, Paterson feels a smile spread across his own face. He closes the folding doors and shifts back into gear.

Two more stops and three more passengers.

And you.

As Paterson navigates his way into the middle lane to avoid construction, he tries to settle his racing thoughts. He’s confused by this reaction, mental, physical and otherwise. It’s not like he’s never had a pretty passenger before.

So why does your face look like nobody he’s ever seen but everything he’s ever looked for?

“What’s your favorite thing about being a bus driver?”

Paterson inhales sharply and he jerks his head around at the unfamiliar voice to see that you are now sitting in the seat directly behind him. Your smile larger than ever.

Paterson swallows thickly, searching for the first words best to say to you.

“Passengers shouldn’t move about while we’re in motion.”

Wrong words.

“So is it that? The authority?” you joke, your smile becoming more lopsided, Paterson’s thankful to be able to see. Even with you right behind him he can still see you in the rearview mirror.

“No! No I didn’t mean to…I mean it’s really not that big…we’re only going 30 –” Paterson’s stuttering is cut off by your laugh.

“Ok if not that then what is it?”

“Um, what is what?” Paterson asks, looking back up after yielding to a bicyclist.

“What’s your favorite thing about being a bus driver?”

“Oh.” Paterson looks back at the road.

He’s never really thought of it. Mainly because nobody had ever asked it before, so he hadn’t bothered to ask it of himself. But it only takes another second of thought before he has his answer.

“It’s a weird limbo.”

“Come again?” Judging by your expression this was clearly not an answer you’d anticipated.

“Being a bus driver you are part of people’s daily lives. You go with them to work, you take them home after a long day. You see them with their friends and family. Or alone.”

“I’m alone,” you point out with a nod. It’s a simple statement, as if corroborating his assessment. Paterson grins and nods.

“Exactly, you’re alone. It’s very personal, in a way. Being there for these moments in between where they are coming from and where they’re going.”

“Intimate?” you offer. Paterson feels his throat go dry as he nods again.

“Yes. Intimate.”

“But you called it limbo?”

“Well it might be intimate, but it’s from a distance. A bus driver is only a small part of someone’s day, but my passengers are my day.”

“Oh,” you exclaim, voice softer than before. “I guess I never thought about it that way.”

The next stop, the penultimate one, comes into view and Paterson eases to bus to halt. A single mother known for jogging around the park in the evenings bids Paterson good night and Ollie claps him on the back as he heads out for dinner with his kids. Upon their exit, Paterson’s eyes seek out yours in the mirror once more. Wondering again if this is the place where you get off.

You lean against the back of your chair. Still very much seated.

Still very much a passenger.

It is then, as Paterson closes the folding doors once more, that he realizes the rest of the bus is empty. This startles him, as usually there is one more regular on the bus for this last upcoming stop. A man, very quiet and not unlike himself. Though Paterson doesn’t know much about him, he’s always wondered just how similar they are. Wondered if the man who enters a residential complex across the street from this last stop also has an empty apartment waiting from him. A lukewarm meal and a cold bed.

Paterson spares a moment to wonder where the man is, feeling a tinge of hope burn through the usual pity – perhaps the man is not alone, wherever he is, and perhaps tonight his dinner will be hot.

The folding doors hiss as they close for the second to last time tonight and Paterson pulls back into traffic. A glance in the rearview mirror reminds him that, not only are you still there, but that the absence of his final regular means that you two are very much alone.

The thought makes blood pound in his ears and he finds his eyes darting between the road and the mirror, not wanting to miss a second of whatever you may do, whatever you may say.

And you don’t make him wait long.

“That man called you Pat earlier,” you say in that lilting voice. “Is your name Patrick?”

“Paterson.” He says it wearily, bracing himself for the inevitable exclamation sure to come about how his name couldn’t possibly be what he says it is because no, that’s the name of the town.

Instead he sees you nod in the mirror as if this is the most rational name he could have given. Of course his name is Paterson.

The silence that follows is heavy with a lot of things, chief among them the things he wishes he could bring himself to say. Questions mainly, ones to counter the questions you’ve lobbed at him. After a block passes he opts for a simple one.

“What do you like best about being a bus passenger?” The question is timid and he hates himself for it, but the sound of your laugh is an pleasantly unexpected reward.

“I like the bus drivers.”

Paterson laughs with you then.

“Now you’re making fun of me.”

“No, I’m not!” you say with mock offense. Paterson flexes his fingers on the steering wheel, starting to feel them tingle. Probably a symptom of a long day of driving.

Or a symptom of you.

“Ok maybe you’re not making fun of me, but there’s no way that’s your answer.”

“You’re right, maybe it’s not the bus drivers,” you say then, leaning forward to rest your chin on your arms as they fold on top of the ledge separating the first row from the driver’s seat. Paterson can practically hear your breath as you speak your next words. “Maybe I just like you.”

If Paterson hadn’t already been pulling up to the final stop he’s pretty sure he would have slammed on the breaks. When the bus eases into motionlessness, Paterson’s hand automatically opens the folding doors, something he probably wouldn’t have thought to do if the action wasn’t so tied to muscle memory at this point.

Paterson’s mind is reeling. He needs to ask you out, or at least as you your name.

But his tongue is tied and you’re standing up and reaching for your bag.

You step down the one step that brings you to the level of the driver’s seat and he gets another good look at you, eyes skittering up and down in a vain attempt to take in every detail incase this was both his first and last chance.

“Good night!” you say cheerily as you move to the door.

Paterson’s heart is sinking faster than the hydraulics on his bus when suddenly you turn around once more, almost as an after thought.

“Oh and Paterson? You were my day.”

And with that you step into the night.

Perhaps to continued tangibility.

Perhaps to vaporize into thin air.

He’s not sure which possibility scares him more.

Paterson allows himself to sit still for a few more moments, not bothering to close the folding doors so quickly this time. Allowing the cool air to flow in. Air that contains the remnants, and potential, of you.

~*~

Tagging some lovely people (please let me know if you’d like to be tagged or untagged in future work!) @mariesackler @direnightshade @safarigirlsp @sacklerscumrag @paper-in-ashes-fanfiction @historyandfandoms50 @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @thegreenmatt @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely @han-not-solo @morby @emeraldsiren20 @maryforyou @aloneandsleepless @jynzandtonic @renmaulxo

(AND PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU ARE GETTING NOTIFIED ABOUT THIS TAG, TUMBLR HAS BEEN WEIRD LATELY that is all, love you guys <3)

[julia-highstorms]

Forgive (Bryce x Rei (F!MC))

Author’s note: This takes place in Book 3 Chapter 11, after that poke shop scene. I found Bryce's reaction to his mother too superficial, so here's my hope to add more depth to it.

Disclaimer: Characters and some dialogues belong to Pixelberry Studios, not me.

Rating: PG- 13

Pairing: Bryce x F!MC (Rei Sato) - Masterlist

Word count: +2.4K

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"Hey, bro."

They all stopped eating momentarily to look up at the girl who had just come into the poke shop. She gave him a little wave, a smirk playing on her lips, and Bryce promptly leapt from his seat next to Rei's, and practically sprinted to where his sister was.

"Keiki! You made it!" - he grinned from ear to ear, enveloping her in a bear hug, lifting her off the ground. She hugged him back tightly, before noticing her brother's friends at the table. 

"Rei! Good to see you again. Keeping my brother out of trouble?"

Much more calm and collected than the scalpel jockey, Rei stood up and walked towards the Lahela siblings, smiling back at the teenage girl.

"You know that's not possible. But forget him, don't I get a hug?"

Keiki rolled her eyes, good humouredly.

"I suppose I can manage one for you."

The friendly squeeze she gave Rei was genuine and she smiled as the medical resident took a step back.

"Let me get a look at you. You're taller than me now!"

"Not that it's something too difficult to achieve." 

"Hey!" - Rei pouted to Bryce's comment, and he and his sister laughed. Not that he was wrong; it wasn't difficult to be taller than Rei, who was 5 feet 2 tall. Everyone else was taller than her.

...Well, everyone but Sienna.

"Anyway, it feels like forever since you went off to boarding school! But what are you doing in Hawaii?"

"We're on school break. Lucky for me, it overlapped with y'all being here, so Bryce and I figured we should at least meet up."

"I'm really glad you made it, sis. Here, let me get you--"

Bryce's voice suddenly died as a well-dressed woman walked into the poke shop, just behind Keiki. Rei knew right away who she was, based on the family resemblance. And on how Bryce tensed up, his smile instantly replaced by a blank face, his hands balling into fists.

She looked back straight to him, her dark brown eyes lighting up and then saddening, as her son turned his back to her. He leaned forward to talk to Keiki on an undertone.

"Keiki, what is she doing here?"

"I invited her." - the girl answered, without even blinking.

"Okay. Next question… what do you think you're doing, inviting her here?" - he asked through gritted teeth, his voice controlled.

The girl frowned.

"Like it or not, Bryce, she's the only mother we've got. Whatever she and Dad did, we can't exactly trade them in for different models."

"So… what, we're inviting them to poke and making up like everything's okay?" - the young surgeon clearly didn't have the same opinion as his little sister. - "They defrauded our friends and neighbors, Keiki. They took advantage of people who trusted them, just for money."

"Everything isn't okay… not yet. But they're making an effort. I know you don’t approve of it, but I’ve been talking to them since I went to boarding school. We're trying to repair our relationship. I just thought that… maybe it was time for you to do the same."

The surgical resident glanced at his mother, who was still patiently waiting in the doorway, wringing her hands nervously, avoiding his gaze. Rei saw his jaw clenching and his whole body hesitating, conflict flashing in his eyes. She put her hands on his arm, Bryce relaxing a little under her touch, and she gently pulled him away. 

"Bryce, you don't have to play nice. Your parents hurt you and Keiki. You get to be mad about that, and you don't have to hide it or apologize for it." 

A small smile tugged on the corner of his lips. 

"Thank you, Rei. I appreciate you having my back. But… I think Keiki might be right. At least about hearing her out. She brought Keiki all the way here and is paying for her tuition, after all."

Rei's dark eyes searched his, unspoken words passing through them, and he squeezed her hand before letting it go off his arm, and walked over to his mother.

The older woman immediately straightened up. Based on her expression, she was fully aware that her son was unhappy to see her, but to her credit, she faced him calmly.

Keiki stepped closer to Rei, a few feet away, watching as they both talked in low and hushed tones in a more secluded corner of the shop. The girl frowned.

"Do you think I did wrong by inviting her here, Rei?"

"Do you think you're wrong?" - Keiki shook her head. - "Then you didn't do anything wrong. You just did what you thought was right and the best for everyone."

Bryce glanced back at them, after something that their mother said, and Keiki nodded pleadingly. He sighed and listened to what the woman had to say.

"...Bryce might not agree with me, but I know he'll try to rebuild his relationship with Mom and Dad, just because I asked." - the teenager resumed talking. - "But I want him to do it - or not - for himself, not because he believes this is the best for me."

Rei smiled and patted her on her back. The Lahela siblings were so similar, both of them were only looking out for each other in the end, although they might have divergent opinions.

"I'll tell him this."

Keiki faced her, an inaudible 'thank you' leaving her lips.

"C'mere, Mom." - they both heard Bryce say, before pulling the middle-aged woman onto a stiff and very awkward hug, but she pulled him close nevertheless, burying her face in her son's shoulder.

After she had finally composed herself, they both parted.

"Mom… this doesn't mean we're okay. We have a lot of trust to rebuild. But… I guess this means I'm willing to try to do that." - he smiled, although Rei noticed that it didn't reach his eyes. 

Mrs. Lahela's eyes didn't seem to notice his lack of enthusiasm, as her eyes widened, welling up in tears, on the verge of becoming emotional again. Bryce glanced back to where Rei and Keiki were, an awkward and desperate look on his face, his body tense again, having no idea of what to do.

They both approached them.

"Hey, Bryce, is this your mom? I can see the resemblance." - Rei wore that smile she always used while attending her patients. - "It's lovely to meet you, Mrs. Lahela!"

The three Lahelas started in surprise for a quick moment, before Bryce immediately relaxed, giving her an immensely grateful look, his arms circling around her shoulders to bring her closer. His mother quickly composed herself and smiled back.

"Lovely to meet one of Bryce's friends! You're… Rei, am I right? I heard about you from Keiki." 

"Only good things, I hope!"

The girl smirked.

"Mostly."

"Here, Mom, why don't you take a seat… I'll get you and Keiki something to eat and introduce you to my friends." - Bryce said, feeling a lot more relaxed now that Rei was there, right next to him.

"I'm so glad you said that, because I seriously need some poke, stat." - her wry tone defused the tension, and everyone broke in laughter. 

Before Rei returned with them to their table, she felt Bryce's hand on her wrist, tugging her gently. 

"Thank you, Rei." - he thanked her, a genuine look on his face, and he quickly leaned down to peck her on her forehead. - "I owe you one. Can we talk later?"

"Sure." - she smiled softly at him, before leaving him to order his mother's and Keiki's orders.

By the time she had returned to their table, Keiki was already introducing each of their friends to Mrs. Lahela. They all greeted her with sympathetic smiles and mouths full of poke.

Jackie snooped closer. 

"Is the scalpel jockey okay?" - they both turned to glance at him, who was at the queue, looking just fine.

"I guess so. It could have gone much worse." - Rei turned to face her best friend. - "I'll talk to him later."

"Yeah, it's a good idea. Wouldn't want his trip to end on a bad note for him."

"I'm impressed that you're worried about him, Jackie." - Rei arched a brow, smirking jokingly, to which her roommate rolled her eyes.

"You never heard this from me, but he's a good friend."

"Hear what? I heard nothing." - Jackie grinned and they resumed eating.

___________________

The tension seemed to fade away throughout the meal, Keiki telling them all about boarding school, their friends adding their anecdotes about when they were in high school. At some point, Rei felt Bryce's strong arm circling around her waist, pulling her close, smiling softly at her, in which she comfortably leaned against his shoulder, both of them feeling peaceful by each other's presence. 

By the corner of her eye, Mrs. Lahela watched the sweet scene, a tinge of happiness and calmness spreading inside her as she finally saw her son's genuine smile for the first time in years. Based on what Keiki told her about Bryce's friends, Rei definitely was the closest one and, according to her daughter, she was his 'crush', although the woman wasn't sure what it meant. But looking at them now, she figured that the young doctor probably was her son's girlfriend.

"Man, after all this food I'll need to take a nap!" - Elijah said as Rafael pushed him out of the shop, all their friends following suit. 

"Me too." - Jackie stretched herself.

"Didn't you and Rei spend the whole morning taking a nap?"

"I'm on a vacation, Aurora, this is how I enjoy my time: sleeping."

"C'mon guys, we should all enjoy it to the very last before we're back to Boston tomorrow." - Raf chuckled.

"Ugh, why does the weekend have to end so fast?" - Sienna whined, making them all laugh.

Bryce turned to his sister.

"Great to see you again, sis. Tell me when it's your next school break and I'll take you to somewhere cool."

"Yeah, yeah, don't start going all sappy on me now." - she smiled back.

He visibly tensed as he turned to face his mother, who looked as nervous as him.

"So, huh. I'll call you to know when Keiki's back to school. You'll send her, right?"

"Yes. You can count on me, Bryce."

He gave her a stiff nod, not so sure if he could in fact count on her. But they would see.

"She's a good girl, you know." - Mrs. Lahela said, and his eyes followed hers, instantly settling on Rei a few feet away, with their friends, laughing at something that Jackie said. He couldn't help but smile, the tension in his heart easing a little just by the sight of her.

Bryce could have told his mother that Rei still was just a friend. But it just seemed so unnecessary, since a thought has been around his mind for a while now. 

He wanted to be more than just friends with her. And especially after today, he was more sure than ever about it.

The scalpel jockey had decided that he would finally tell her how he truly felt before they were back to Boston. It had to be tonight. 

"Yeah, she is." - he agreed in the end, smiling fondly.

After telling his goodbyes, the Lahelas parted their ways, Keiki with Mrs. Lahela. Bryce still looked a bit unsure of letting her go with their mother, but his sister seemed okay with it. He knew that, if something happened, she would tell him.

As he turned around to go back to the hotel with his friends, only Rei was still there waiting for him, the rest of the gang already feet away.

His hand fell comfortably on the small of her back and they started walking at a comfortable pace.

"How are you feeling?" 

He sighed. 

"I don't know. I definitely didn't expect that would happen."

"You mean seeing your mom or see her crying?"

"Both. But I guess what I was most impressed about is that she actually came and apologized to me and to Keiki, although she wasn't sure if I would forgive her. She told me that. But she did it anyway, because we deserved it, rather we forgave her or not."

"And have you forgiven her? Them?"

"Not yet. And to be honest, I don't know if I ever will. I've spent too many years away and doing fine without them, and I don't know if I'm ready to have them back to my life or ever wanting to. I said that I was willing to give it a try since Keiki asked me to consider it--"

"Your sister said that she wants you to rebuild your relationship with your parents for yourself, because you're willing to do it, not because she asked you to. She knows you, Bryce."

He nodded, before stopping walking and gazing at her. 

"Am I a terrible person for not wanting to forgive my parents?"

She took his bigger hands in hers, tracing circles on his skin with her thumbs. 

"Of course not. They hurt you and you have every right to feel this way."

"I just don't know how Keiki can forgive and thrust them so easily."

"You left your house almost ten years ago, Bryce. Even though she’d lived with you for the past year, she's spent most of her life with them. Maybe they had changed as time passed or maybe her experience with them had been different. And she isn't you, Bryce. She might see things differently. We don't know."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm just worried that she might forgive them, only for things to get awful again back at home. Although she's in boarding school now."

"If that happens, she'll tell you, Bryce. Remember how she went all the way from here to Boston to stay with you and you weren't even close? You're her safe place, now more than ever." - Rei smiled softly. - "She knows she has you."

He nodded, before grinning.

"And I have you. What would I do without you?"

"You'd do just fine." - she smirked. - "But yes, you have me. I'll always be here for you, Bryce." 

Rei saw a genuine, radiant smile spreading on his face, reaching his dark brown eyes, Bryce acting more like his old, both relaxed and confident self. He brushed her hair away, and her eyes flushed closed as she felt his lips on hers, soft and sweet. 

"Thank you, Rei." - he murmured, stroking her cheek. He smirked. - "Dammit, there's no way I can take you to my room for a quickie before Ines's wedding, is there?"

The diagnostics team's medical resident blushed slightly before they both shared a laughter as the hotel came into view, their hands entwined together. 

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Tag: @nyastarlight @endlessflame @awkwardalbatros @choicesarehard @strangelycami @stillafictosexual @queen-kass-the-writer @indiacater @worldofchoices9-blog @radlovedreamer @fairydustandsarcasm @choicesthot @blackreddish @lilyofchoices @fluffywhitehair @weavingfractals @eileendannie @hellooliviaolivia  @lahelable  @bucket-harrington @god-save-the-keen @choices97  @allthatglitters2020 @thequeenofpixels @hellomynameisdevi @dreaming-of-movies @maria-lahela @zodiacsign1 @omgjasminesimone @miss-raleigh-carrera @lahellacute @brycesgirl  @raleighcarrera @simsvetements @wolverinesbeer @virtuallytakenby @anotherbeingsworld @teenytinytanya08 @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl @sitsoncornflake @jamesashtonisbae @lxdy-starfury @kelseaaa  @eleanorbloom @freckles-spangledvampire  @choicesficwriterscreations (if you would like to be tagged in (or out of!) upcoming Bryce x MC fanfics/fanarts, please let me know!)