#i also worry that it’ll come across as me not being able to make executive decisions

[sapphic-bifrost]

normalize asking people to clarify or explain something. wanting to understand is not annoying.

[nightowlfandom]

Billy Loomis And Stu Macher x Reader- Our Favorite Girl (Slight gore warning)

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Leggo!

...(Trigger warning, stabby stab)

“Hey newbie!” 

You looked up from your textbook to find Stu Macher prancing up to you. With a polite smile, you greeted him.

“Hi Stuart.” you said. “How are you?”

“Hey! I said you didn’t have to be so ‘oooh hi Stuart I’m so prim and proper.’ “ he laughed out loud. “We’re friends aren’t we?” 

“I guess so.” you laughed nervously. “ Um...what’s up?”

“I’m havin’ a party and you’re coming!”

“Parties?” You frowned. “I-uh...” you wanted to reject the idea. You hated parties and your parents would probably blow a fuse if they knew what was going on around town. ‘Stuart, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not, kitten?” he winked. “Afraid to be seen with little ol’ me?” there was a darkness behind his words that you couldn’t ignore. “Don’t like being out after dark?”

“I’m not the partying type is all.” you shrugged. “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m not the most popular person around here.” you stared down at your shoes. “I just don’t wanna ruin your party. I’m the last person you wanna be seen with.”

“It’d make me real happy, kitten.” he stepped forward and slipped his fingertips under your chin and made you look up. “Please? Just for a few minutes.”

Call it weakness, but you couldn’t say no to him.

“Okay.” you smiled lightly. “I’ll go”

“Great! Don’t worry, it’ll be super memorable.” he winked as he skipped off. 

Later on, you were walking to your locker only to bump into Adam. Typical bully. “Hey Y/N. Heard you were going to Macher’s party tonight...you gonna wear a dress for me?”

“No.” you answered curtly. “It’s amazing how you don’t seem to have anything better to do other than shove your nose into my business.” you hugged your books to your chest. “Can I go now?.”

“Hey...is there a problem?” you turned around to find Billy Loomis stalking up to you. You had seem him a handful of times but never actually talked to him before. “You...where do I know you from?”

“I sit behind you in English. We had a project together once.” you replied sheepishly. “Stuart forces me to sit between him and his girlfriend at lunch when they’re fighting. You talk to me from time to time...”

“Stuart...” he raised an eyebrow. “You mean Stu?”

“mhm! You probably don’t remember me because I never reply...” you nodded. 

“You goin’ to his party or somethin’?”

“He asked me to go.” you trailed off. “You’re going too, right?”

“ Why? Excited to meet me there?”“ he smirked, totally ignoring Adam at this point. 

“I mean...” you stared down at your books. “I was hoping someone I’d know would be there.”

Billy raised an eyebrow at you. You gave off a shy aura and for some reason he was into that. He and Stu had been planning a massacre, and they were gonna blame that damned Sydney Prescott. It was the perfect crime. 

“Hm...I’ll see you there.” he winked at you, then sent a death-bringing glare at Adam. “Problem, handsome?” he sneered as he passed the athlete.

... at the party

“Not even three hours in and I have to hide...” you cursed yourself out. “Damn asshole...!” 

Adam was informed that you had arrived and was looking for you, shit!

You ran into the kitchen, losing your breath. “Billy?” 

The suspect in question whipped around. Billy was holding what you assumed was the house phone and instantly hung it up. “Hey...”

“Am I glad to see you.” you sighed.

“Somethin wrong?” 

Billy was in the middle of executing his plan, but for some reason he couldn’t help but want to talk to you. 

“Adam is looking for me.” you sighed. “Could I...stay here with you? Please?”

Billy smiled, darting out his tongue to run across his bottom lip. You were absolutely adorable. “I have a better idea.” he smirked, walking up to you. “Why don’t we send him a little message?”

“You have a girlfriend.” you put a hand on Billy’s chest. “I c-can’t.”

“Not anymore...she dumped me for Randy.” he tusked. ”Figures right?”

“Well...that’s her fault...you’re pretty cool.” you bit your lip.

“So...” Billy tilted your head up towards you. “Let me-”...he gently kissed your lips. While it felt wrong, you melted into him. He held the side of your face in his hand. Sidney wasn’t your friend, not by a longshot, but you still respected her. The fact that Billy was so willing to kiss you, like this.

“For once...stop worrying about other people.” he mumbled against your lips. “Just live in the moment...shit I know what I want...you know what you want...so act on it damnit.”

“Are we still talking about getting Adam off me back or-”

“Shush...don’t think.”

“Kinda hard to when your girlfriend is in the other room”

“Shut up.” he shushed you, tightening his arms around you. You kissed him back with just as much urgency. How would the others react, seeing this...seeing you. Billy backed you up against the counter. Before it could get any farther, you both heard screaming, girlish screaming. 

“What the hell was that?” you asked, feeling your heart race.

“Stay here.” Billy ran in the direction of the noise, leaving you to stand there in terror.

You could hear screams and cries for help, followed by what sounded like gleeful laughter. You were left frozen in place as a man with a mask on his face kicked open the kitchen door. 

You immediately braced yourself with a kitchen knife.

“Stay back!” you warned. “I will cut you!”

“Easy kitten, I’m not gonna kill ya.”

Call it ignorance. Call it instinct, but there was something familiar about the way this stranger spoke to you.

“What did you just say?” you dared ask this man. “Did you just call me kitten?”

“You’re naive, childish...and adorable...like a little kitty cat.” the way he laughed under the mask led you to believe he was laughing with his tongue stuck out.

There was only one person that you knew who spoke like that. You slowly lowered the knife and walked up to him cautiously. The figure didn’t move in the slightest. You were standing toe to toe with him. 

You cautiously raised the mask only revealing the bottom half of the strangers face...only they weren’t a stranger.

“Stu.” you concluded.

“....You said my name.” he flirted.

“Care to explain?”

“In a bit...got something to take care of.” he straightened his mask again before disappearing again.

It was only less than a minute before Stu came quite literally crawling back into the kitchen.

Stu doubled over, holding his stomach as you rushed over to his side. “Stu?” you put a hand on his forehead. “Stu, please don’t be dead!” you winced. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” That damn Sidney...she must have had something to do with this.

“Y/N...it hurts.” Stu moaned in pain. “Hold me?” 

You wasted no time in gathering him to the best of your abilities. He rested his head in your knee. You hummed thoughtfully, shushing him while you used his sweater to apply pressure to his stab wound.

“Y/N, are you sure you aren’t an angel?” He shamelessly flirted, smiling through his pain.

“No, I’m not.” you giggled. ”Save your energy.”

“I’d have more if you just gave me those lips of yours...” he winked. Just to shut him up, you kissed his forehead. 

“Not what I meant, but works for me.”

 As you chided the poor boy, Sydney ran into the kitchen, screaming at the top of her lungs while Billy also wounded stumbled behind. 

“Billy??” you gasped in horror. Seeing you must have caused him to loose his footing, because he slowed his movements. You laid Stu on his back and urged him keep his sweater over his wound. 

You scrambled to your feet, eyeing Sidney with a glare no one had ever seen you wear.

“Y/N! You’ve got to believe me! They’ve been the ones doing this.”

“I find that really hard to believe that when you were just standing over Stu with a bloody knife.” you seethed. “Your own boyfriend? Really?” you dared step closer.

“Y/N! They’re manipulating you!” she began crying. “You have to see it!” She was obviously hysterical.

“Then give me the knife.” you faked calm, cautiously stepping towards her. “Give me the knife...and we can-” you stopped yourself. You looked over at Billy, praying he wouldn’t be mad. “We’ll call the cops.” you you held your hand out.

“WHAT?” Billy seethed. You avoided his gaze. Hopefully he wouldn’t sense your fear. 

“Trust me...” you said, just barely above a whisper. You were mostly talking to Billy, but had to make it look like it was directed at her. “We can get out of this...”

Sidney (very stupidly) outstretched her hand, the one that was holding the knife. Once it was within your reach, you grabbed her wrist, and grabbed the blade with your free hand, throwing it to the side. You tackled to to the floor and held her down.

“Crazy bitch.” you mumbled. She began thrashing, and screaming bloody murder. You were eventually able to get the best of her. “Whoever is the least dead...COPS...NOW!” You struggled as Sidney screamed. “This bitch is out of her mind!.”

“I have a better idea.” A seemingly fine, and now very much not dead Stu rose to his feet, a sick smile plastered on his face. The knife had slid over to him and you hadn’t even realized. You were too focused on keeping Sidney on the floor.

Suddenly you were yanked back into Billy’s arms as a sharp object came down from above, plunging through Sidney’s chest. 

“Oh my god!” you buried your head into Billy’s shirt, trying to block out the terrible sounds you heard the terrible sounds of skin ripping. 

“Shhh it’s over babe.” He shushed you. “It’s okay.” he stroked your hair with his bloody hand. Stu laughed manically as he wiped the sweat off his face. 

“Some party huh.” Stu cackled. He wasted no time in sandwiching you between himself and Billy.

“You had us thinking you’d betray us, Kitten.” Stu dug his head into your shoulder.

“Y/N would never do that to us...she’s our good girl.”

“You guys are-”

“Absolutely.”

“And this party was-”

“Smart girl.”

“And now that you know our little secret, we’re never letting you go, kitten!” Stu laughed. 

“And if you tell anyone, we’ll have no choice but to take you down with us...but you won’t do that to us, will you?” Billy asked, nuzzling his head into your neck.

[ootahime]

analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga p2

part 1 is here :3

this post includes more excruciatingly long paragraphs so grab urself something and enjoy LOL

chapter 40 

i know they’re not interacting in this panel but i still want to bring it up.  i’m gonna give some context to this scene in case someone needs to jog their memory.  so basically, mei’s ability to command crows is what allows the staff to observe the students from afar.  however, gojo notices that there’s lack of footage where yuuji is and asks mei why that’s so.  she tells him that they’re animals at the end of the day so she can’t control what they look at.  he doesn’t believe her so he asks her whose side she’s on (for yuuji’s execution vs against yuuji’s execution) to which she responds with, “whose side?  i’m on the side with money, of course.  there’s no value in something that can’t be bought since you can’t exchange that for money.”  in other words, she’ll always choose the side that offers her more money because she doesn’t care about how morally “correct” or “incorrect” something is.  it’s not worth fighting for a cause that doesn’t benefit her in the long run which is why she views things that are unable to be bought (friendships, relationships, favors) as useless - they can’t be exchanged for money.  it’s clear that gojo knows she’s not on his side because he replies with, “spoken from experience!” or “i wonder how much!” (translation varies).  he says it out loud to perhaps let gakuganji know that he’s onto him.  i find it interesting how utahime is in the panel as well with a “?” to express her confusion at his words.  let’s overthink dissect that.  why is she there in the first place? if the message was to let gakuganji know that gojo is aware of his ulterior motives then a panel with gakuganji and gojo would have sufficed.  why add utahime with a question mark? 

here’s a personal headcanon of mine that makes no absolute sense, but who cares? it makes me happy LOL.  so let’s examine the panel.  gojo’s face is more simplified and cartoonish with a grey background on top and some sort of white bubble surrounding the three characters.  gakuganji is staring at utahime and gojo.  in the official viz translation, he replies to mei with, “i wonder how much!”  

normal and logical explanation: shading the principal by asking out loud how much mei was paid by him to avoid monitoring yuuji.

gojohime brainrot explanation: 

mei: “there’s no value in something that can’t be bought since you can’t exchange that for money”

gojo: (in response) i wonder how much utahime’s love would cost if it did have a price.

utahime: ?

you’re probably thinking i’m delulu (true) BUT HEAR ME OUT.  IT WOULD SOMEWHAT MAKE SENSE IN THIS CONTEXT...

mei’s saying seems to be what she lives by.  relationships, love, friendships, etc. do not matter to her as this is evident when she ultimately abandons everyone in shibuya to escape to malaysia, selling all her stocks before japan’s economy goes down.  she doesn’t care about anyone else.  she even takes advantage of ui ui’s adoration for her.  she contrasts utahime.  utahime is loved by her students.  children, especially teenagers, are picky when it comes to choosing the adults they admire and respect.  while everyone trusts gojo, they do not respect him because of his childishness and overall absurdity.  it’s refreshing to see how they always call him an idiot or have a -_- face when he’s around.  when akutami says everyone absolutely adores utahime-sensei, it says a lot.  we haven’t seen her interact with her students all that much, but she’s obviously close to them because she’s frequently arguing with momo.  even a closed off person like mechamaru wanted to keep her away from danger.  she most certainly expresses a lot of concern and care for her students, and gojo and her students can pick up on this. 

i’ve talked about this in every post LOLOL but there’s a reason why he went to utahime first to help him investigate.  utahime is a loyal person through and through.  she would never do something that harms the students even if she was offered everything in the world.  she values relationships above everything else.  besides her concern for the students, how else was i able to come to this conclusion about her character?  well, she got shoko to stop smoking because she was worried about how it might damage her friend’s health.  from these two details, it’s obvious that she’s the complete opposite of mei.  

maybe that’s why he calls her weak.  she’s too selfless and compassionate in a world where every sorcerer is for themselves.  the world is cruel as a sorcerer.  no matter how hard you try to fight, in the end, you’ll always die alone.  remember his talk with megumi after the baseball game?  after witnessing megumi pull a sacrificial bunt to help his teammates advance, gojo has a talk with megumi about his attitude and potential.  he says that being selfless and caring about others is not a bad thing, but in a world like this, where people always die alone, he is wasting his potential by being concerned with others.  it’s okay to be selfish.  this is why we see fierce independence in a lot of the sorcerers like mei, nanami, and gojo.  they each have their own reasons as to why they work alone, but it’s still a common characteristic.  i feel like utahime doesn’t have a selfish bone in her body.  i speculate that her selflessness is the exact reason why she is being held back.  during her mission to exorcise a grade 1 spirit by herself, the final task before being promoted to grade 1, she likely got distracted trying to help civilians out of danger and failed her mission.  he’s right when he says she doesn’t have the guts to be the traitor, utahime doesn’t have it in her to do something so boldly solely for her own benefit.  

after this long tangent, how does this relate to your headcanon, ootahime?  

as you know, love is not transactional.  you can’t pay someone to love you.  what if gojo is asking himself how much it would cost to buy her love.  hence, her confusion because she is oblivious to what he really means.  it could be probable because gakuganji is observing not only gojo, but utahime as well.  so what gojo says must involve her too, right?  

or she could just be confused because his words seem out of place because she is unaware of what gakuganji is doing behind everyone’s back.  that explanation makes sense for viz’s official translation but it doesn’t make sense when he says, “spoken from experience!” because his words make sense in that context.  he’s basically saying that mei’s beliefs must be based on her past experiences so he understands why she feels this way.  that’s an appropriate response to mei’s statement so i don’t see why utahime would be confused by this.  unless i’m interpreting this whole scene completely wrong.  in that case, whoopsies!  

let me know if you’re confused because i’m willing to clarify.  idk why but i found this really difficult to explain.  maybe because i’m reaching so hard haha

chapter 40

he finds any way he can to tease her.  they seem like a married couple watching a movie or something.  does he take pride in being the only person she doesn’t get along with?  i mean, she says it herself so he is aware she thinks he’s annoying, but he keeps picking on her anyway.  he doesn’t even pick on his enemies this much LMAOOO i think the only other person he likes to make fun of is gakuganji but he does so because he doesn’t agree with his views.  with utahime it’s different.  he trusts her a lot and even looks out for her.  

chapter 44

why are there two separate instances of gakuganji observing utahime and gojo’s interactions from afar?  nah i’m just playing.  he’s just looking because he’s concerned she’ll run into the semi-grade 1 curse he had for yuuji.  OKAY BUT I NOTICED SOMETHING KINDA CUTE?  whenever utahime says something suddenly, he always has those 3 little triangles near his head.  it’s like he’s thinking, “oh!  utahime is speaking, i must listen <3″  look at his face too.  he’s looking at her like :O

this is also an example of her showcasing her concern for the students in front of gojo.  i feel like he questions why she’s so caring because if it were him, he would have left the student to figure it out themselves.  i really wonder how she would react if he answered her truthfully when she asked what he’d do if she were the traitor.  

chapter 45

there’s not much to say here...they’re just cute.  i know it’ll never happen but i’d like to see them fight side by side one day.  i’m aware that gojo works best alone but i just want to see how they’d work together, okay? 😔

chapter 45

see the little triangles on his head again?  UGH SO CUTE.  

chapter 45

IS THIS NOT INTENTIONAL???  they share the same thoughts.  he even finished her thought.  mannnnnnnnnnnnn what is akutami doing?  giving us false hope and stripping it away just for fun?  making them work so well together for what??

chapter 52

cute how he looks out for her.  i have nothing more to say LOL

chapter 53

notice how they’re sitting across from each other?  HEHE

chapter 53

yet another instance of her caring for her students in front of gojo.  in the anime she has the cutest expression when she says she’s glad the students are safe.  i bet gojo saw that too.  i also bet that she looks prettier from his point of view.

extra

from the manga and light novels, gojo and utahime are the ones that talk about sports the most.  he most definitely chose baseball to cheer her up.  it’s not a coincidence people!  

--

i feel like i had a lot more to say but i completely lost my train of thought while writing this, especially with chapter 40. i’m once again writing this at 4 in the morning LOL........  please please please add on or share your thoughts!  thank you for reading and sorry for any mistakes.  

[farfromharry]

Hi! Could I request prince!tom where him and reader are newlyweds and love causing trouble around the castle, pranks and stuff.

You can change it a bit of you want.

summary: tom is a big fan of pulling pranks on his brothers, and he just so happens to drag you into it

prince!tom x reader

w/c 555

“Come on, it’ll be fine,” he whispered, trying to coax you into following him into his younger brother’s room.

Ever since you’d gotten married the royals had been much more lenient on you, knowing they could no longer hold anything about marrying Tom to a princess, rather than a randomer, against you. To Tom that seemed to mean that you now had to push their limits, pulling countless pranks with him around the castle that usually left the staff and his own family with steam coming out of their ears.

“What if he gets mad?” You were always hesitant, assuming the queen could just execute you if you really did go too far, but Tom reassured you that you were being way too over dramatic.

Now you and Harry had a good relationship, he hadn’t even hesitated to welcome you into his family even despite your money and social status. But you also knew from that that the man valued his sleep, and you and Tom heading into his room and disrupting that probably wasn’t a good idea. 

“He won’t, it’s just Harry, love.” You rolled your eyes, finding that your worry clearly wasn’t getting across to the man in front of you. You went to protest again when Tom caught you, slotting his hand over your mouth so you couldn’t make some strange comment about being executed again. “They aren’t going to behead you,” he chuckled. “We may be royalty, but we aren’t Henry VIII.”

Before you knew it, and still with a few more attempts at a protest with your husband, you and the young Prince were sneaking into the room, jug of cold water and bag of flour in hand.

As soon as one of you was situated on either side of Harry’s bed, Tom raised his hand, ready to give you a countdown so nothing happened too early or when one of you wasn’t ready.

You watched him lower his ring finger, middle and then his index finger. 

When he put down his pointer finger, signalling now was the time, you quickly and nervously poured the water over your brother in law, hearing him barely let out a gasp at the sudden cold, wet sensation pulling him from his sleep before the flour was pushed onto him. 

He coughed a few times, the sounds of your giggles and Tom’s boyish laughter echoing around the room. The pair of you left before Harry was able to get to his feet, not wanting to deal with the wrath of the young man if he were to catch you. 

“Do you think he knows it was us?” you whispered, trying to stifle a few giggles at the memories of a few seconds ago. You could practically hear the steam coming from Harry and the anger put into each one of his steps as he stomped his way to yours and Tom’s hiding place around the corner. 

“Probably no-” “Tom!” 

He looked at you with wide open eyes, taking your hand in his quickly. The two of you laughed loudly as Tom led you down the long hallways of the castle, weaving in and out of the way of the staff and even some more than confused guards. 

“I’m going to kill you both!” Harry’s threat made you hit Tom’s arm playfully. “I told you!”

tom holland taglist → @seutarose @lmaotshollandd @photoshopart15 @hopelessly-harry @call-me-baby-gir1 @icyhollands @sinisterspidey @siriuslyslyslytherin @musicalkeys-blog @itstaskeen @tpwk-grande @zspideyy @spideyssunshine @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lowkey-holland @hollandcrush @wizkiddx @sannie-san-shine @sonnydoesrandomshit @hopeless-romantic-baby @thehumanistsdiary @dummiesshort @itsbieberxholland @lillucyandthejets @piscesparker @bvttercupbby @mymilliefrommarketing @spideyspeaches @kujokura @l0velyevans @jess-holland23 @felicityparkers @quxxnxfhxll @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @lou-la-lou @slutforsr @tayyx @bora-world @annathesillyfriend @lovableparker @whoeveniskendall @hollandswife @sunwardsss @dhtomholland @messedupmyfuckinglife @bi-lmg @londonspidey @multixfandomwriter @mrsholland96 @tomhollandismyhusband1996 @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @magicalxdaydream @hallecarey1 @aayaissaa @jacksnoodles

[crusherthedoctor]

Sonic Heroes: Sweet or Shite? - Part 1: SILVER

There are some heroes I like. And there are some heroes I don’t like. But why do I feel about them the way I do? That’s where this comes in.

This is a series in which I go into slightly more detail about my thoughts on the heroes in the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise, and why I think they either work well, or fall flat (or somewhere in-between). I’ll be giving my stance on their designs, their personalities, and what they had to show for themselves over the course of time. Two things to keep in mind:

1. These reviews will be focusing mainly on game portrayals. Though alternate media will occasionally be mentioned, it'll be for the sake of adding onto a point if a portrayal is similar enough, or to compare and contrast if a portrayal is different enough.

2. These are just my own personal thoughts. Whether you agree or disagree, feel free to share your own thoughts and opinions! I don’t bite. :>

Anyhow, for today’s installment, I decided to challenge myself by starting off with a complicated one. Born from the future, and never content to stay put in said future, it's the saviour whose debut came from the most unfortunate game... Silver the Hedgehog.

The Gist: Once upon a time, in the distant future, there was an idealistic young hedgehog named Silver, gifted with the power of telekinesis for reasons unknown. With his amazing potential, he was truly destined for a wonderful, prosperous li-just kidding, it was shit.

“All two of us.”

For as long as he knew, the world was forever plagued by Iblis, the terrible Flames of Disaster. Cities stood in ruin, flames stood high, the floor was lava... it was a bitter life to be certain, all thanks to Iblis. Not even defeating the titular creature did much good, since it would simply come back to be a shitty boss fight another day. What was he - and his friend, Blaze, a character we definitely never saw before and definitely didn't have a completely different backstory before - to do?

Trust the first person he sees, of course. Even if they look like they might be related to the same Flames of Disaster that he fights so constantly.

If he had eyelids, he'd be winking at the camera.

This mysterious fellow, Mephiles the Dark, informed Silver that if he were to wipe out Iblis for real, he would need to take a trip into the past, and eliminate the root of the problem... Sonic the Hedgehog? That was what Mephiles claimed, yes. What was his proof? There was no proof.

That was good enough for Silver.

Oh look, it's Fleetway Sonic.

After an elaborate series of events, which should sound exciting but really isn't because it was just Silver going “Iblis Trigger grrr” in varying tones of voice, he was finally able to corner the blue hedgehog... twice! And despite having less fighting know-how than the hero who saved the world plenty of times, he effortlessly came close to killing the blue hedgehog... twice!

This looks like a jobbing for...

Why twice? The first time was halted by Sonic's friend Amy Rose, who Silver had met beforehand after she mistook him for Sonic, an understandable mistake that even the keenest of eyes would be forgiven for making.

The second time was also interrupted, this time by Shadow the Hedgehog. There's only room for one controversial non-blue male hedgehog in this franchise, sonny boy. Actually, his reasons were more benevolent than that: he wanted to show Silver the truth about what was going on, by time travelling to the incident that gave birth to Iblis. Why was one able to to this, so long as more than one Chaos Emerald was present? No one knew.

That was good enough for Silver.

“I challenge you to a dumb-off.”

As it turned out, Iblis was one half of a sun god called Solaris, the other half being the aforementioned Mephiles. The Duke of Soleanna wanted to reunite with his late wife by harnessing Solaris' power, which succeeded from a certain point of view since he's dead now too. The resulting blunder split Solaris into two halves. One half was all brawn, with little capacity for intelligence. The other half was Iblis.

Understanding the error of his ways, and after making peace with Sonic, Silver went back to the future to try something different, which consisted of doing the same thing he always did. Luckily for him, the script decided it would work this time, albeit at the cost of Blaze sacrificing herself... Maybe? Sort of? It’s not entirely clear what happened to her, and it’s not like this was the last we ever saw of her.

~La laaaaaa, la laaaaaa, la laaaaaa, heading to a better game, la laaaaaa~

But ohhhhh nooooo, turns out THAT didn't solve anything either! In the present, Sonic was killed by Mephiles, after the latter realised he should probably do that already if he wanted to make any progress at all with his plan. This incident led to Iblis being brought into the present, and they fused to become the omnipotent Solaris once more. Such power... such divinity... such devastation...

Actually, he was really easy. The antlion from Underground Zone was harder.

Manchild robots - 1, god of time - 0.

With their super forms in tow, Silver, Shadow, and the revived Sonic joined forces to defeat Solaris, with Sonic in particular going the extra step in retconning Solaris out of existence entirely. Since time itself reset, meaning Iblis was no longer a memory, Silver's timeline was given a second chance. What was he to look forward to in this new, promising future?

Shit.

The Design: Let's take a closer look at Silver's appearance, shall we?

Or rather, a certain thing that's wrong with it.

He's holding up fifteen fingers.

Yes, you all know what I'm pointing to: the hairstyle. Let it be known that I'm very aware of the intention behind this design choice. It's supposed to be based on the Japanese Red Maple Leaf, which holds a lot of relevant symbolism for Silver's character. This is a fine idea in theory, and I can respect the intent and the creativity.

But here's the thing: If it looks like a ganja leaf, people are going to say it looks like a ganja leaf. I know some fans will gnash their teeth at me saying this, but the fact of the matter is that intentions and ideas, no matter how good they may be on paper, don't always translate well into the final product. Unleashed Secret Rings Black Knight Sonic '06 in general is certainly no stranger to showcasing examples of that, and Silver's hairstyle is no exception. There are ways to incorporate symbolism in a character’s design without making them look like meme bait in the process, and no amount of “umm ackshually” will change that, I'm afraid.

That said, there's another reason why I'm staying clean of Silver marijuana: it doesn't work for a hedgehog character. With the other hedgehogs, their hairstyles are simple and get the point across: Sonic's goes without saying, Shadow's is more angular to befit a slightly rougher hero, and Amy's is a cute bob cut of sorts. But Silver? Even without the ganja, you've still got the two tentacles making up the back of his head.

I'd rather not be reminded of hentai quills, thanks.

“I thought Crusher-san would like it :’(”

I do find it hilarious that they went through numerous designs for Silver, and this was what they chose to go with. Some of his prototype designs may have fared better had any of them been used instead... but we didn't end up with any of those ones. We ended up with this one, therefore I'm judging this one.

But don’t worry, it’s not all bad with Silver...

The Personality: As far as actual character goes, Silver's personality is as straightfoward as most characters in the series, yet it's no less interesting, because it took a while for it to fully evolve to what it currently is. The seeds of his character - a good-natured yet awkward and rather insecure kind of guy, who doesn't fully understand how the present time works - have always been there, but it was often downplayed in earlier titles due to him being hungry for Iblis Trigger blood... or being an arsehole for no reason.

Although to be fair, everyone in Rivals is an arsehole for no reason.

Eventually though, after the writers gave him a Snickers, these traits got more opportunity to shine. Mostly in side media admittedly, but it's been noted in the games as well. With no Iblis to angst over, he's proven to be a surprisingly bubbly chap, who just wants to know how you're all doing, fellow anthro kids. And whereas his naivety was previously used for intended tragedy to benefit the evil plan of a guy who thought taking the -istoph- out of Mephistopheles would make him inconspicuous, now it's been used for a bunch of low-key contexts that do a much better job at endearing him to the player.

Finally, something I can relate to.

Hell, he even seems to have learned from the Mephiles incident, as he was quick to make it clear to the next shadowy deep-voiced anthro with demonic eyes he met that he wasn't gonna fall for any of them fibs no more, ya hear?

“YouTube and Twitter don’t count.”

All in all, it works well enough, in my opinion. His personality does pave the way for some funny and wholesome moments, and since they’re no longer trying to build him up like he’s Shadow 2.0, he's nowhere near as much of a tool as he was before. So I guess you could say... I like it?

Does this mean I can say that I like the character as a whole then, design and '06-induced idiocy aside?

Well, not quite...

The Execution: This is where the complication part comes into play. We know now that I like his personality, not so much his design, but that's only the half of it. It would be more accurate to say that I like his personality... and dislike everything else.

Aside from that, obviously.

For starters, the creation process for his character and story was summed up with, in their own words, “Think Trunks from Dragon Ball Z”. So he comes off as rather lazy and uninspired. Now I'm not expecting my Sonic characters to be 100% unique, there's always going to be similarities to other franchises no matter what you do, even if subconsciously or by complete coincidence. Taking inspiration in itself is no big deal at all.

But... was that it? Copying a DBZ character to such a blatant extent? Was there no other thought put into it?

Naturally, this ties into an overarching problem: the franchise's mid-00's habit of trying way too hard to be the anthro Dragon Ball Z. Sonic has had DBZ influences since the early days, with the Chaos Emeralds and Super Sonic, but it didn't assimilate itself into every waking aspect of his universe. It was merely an additional flavor that added to the complete package, in the same way that a Death Star with a moustache didn't mean the franchise was suddenly Star Wars the Hedgehog.

But come the turn of the millenium, nearly every main title in the series ended with Super Sonic and/or Super Shadow saving the day, while everyone else either stood around being useless, or only helping in ways that no one actually cares about. Including the in-universe President apparently, since only Sonic and Shadow were featured in the photo on his desk.

Amy smiled. “I guess the rest of us can go fuck ourselves, huh?”

This reached its peak with - of course - Sonic '06, with Silver in particular being an obvious result of this then-ongoing trend. And yes, it would be unfair to use him as a scapegoat, considering it was already a problem long before he turned up. But moreso than even Shadow, it's an era that Silver is forever a relic of, for better or for worse.

But it doesn't stop there. Since Silver is considered a mainstay character, his gimmick of being from the future also creates problems of its own, because in order for him to make further appearances, he keeps turning up for little explained reason, and thus he suffers the Deadly Six problem of being shoved into places where he doesn't belong, for fanservice's own sake. Take Sonic Colours DS for example, where he went back in time JUST to check out Eggman's theme park... Okay...?

On one hand, I’d visit it too, since it's made by Eggman. On the other hand, I’d stay clear of it, since it's made by Eggman.

And when there IS a justification with more weight to it? It's just recycling the '06 routine of trying to avert his ruined future, which isn't much better. The cause may differ depending on the story, but if his future is a permanent shitehole for one reason or another, he might as well cut out the middle man and stay in the present altogether, since that's where his friends are anyway. But they seem intent on not doing that, despite the future schtick being a noose around his neck at this point.

In hindsight, maybe this was a hint to how the rest of the arc would turn out.

And then there's his dynamic with a certain purple cat... No, not Big. The other one.

“I’m here, by the way.”

Simply put: I don't like this dynamic. At all. Or rather, I don't like how they keep milking it. Blaze's backstory was radically changed to justify her presence in Silver's future, and it really shows, since she barely even shows up half the time, as if the developers themselves forgot she was in the game. But her backstory has since been restored to her original alternate dimension interpretation, so hanging around with the grey hedgehog is all good now, right?

To be brutally honest, I probably wouldn't care for this dynamic regardless. But I would be more willing to tolerate it, and I'd refrain from groaning every time they're seen together... if they weren't intent on playing it up so much in spite of '06 being wiped out, sometimes with a bit of commentary involving their thoughts and memories, which only succeeds at making things more confusing. If Blaze is around, Silver will be nearby, and if he's not at first, he will be soon enough. This franchise does have a problem in general with restricting who's allowed to interact with who (I personally believe Sonic Heroes may have led to this, or at least it accelerated it), but I'd argue it's at its most insufferable here, with Blaze's potential and her entire world taking a backseat to being the sidekick of Ganja Man.

And you might say “Well, it's part of the franchise now, so you'll just have to accept it”. To which I ask: Have you accepted Two Worlds? Have you accepted Solo Sonica? Have you accepted Sonic's friends not doing much as of late?

Yeah. That's what I thought. “It’s just how it is” doesn’t mean you can’t criticise it.

Meanwhile, Marine is lucky enough to get so much as a shout out.

So yeah, I have quite an extensive list of grievances involving poor Silver. But... very little of it has to do with him, right? They're all indirect problems that he just so happens to be linked to, as opposed to someone like Chris Thorndyke, who is genuinely a shit character through and through. This is more comparable to Tails being bitchy in Lost World, or Amy being manipulative in Chronicles, or Sonic being a smug dumbass in IDW, or Shadow not wearing a Hawaiian shirt in Boom. Frustrating, regrettable, but not really the character's own fault.

Yet even after all that, there's one last kick in the teeth... How do you fix all this? And how do you fix it when he's since gained a sizable fandom, many of whom like him for these very attributes? If you leave it as it is, you're stuck with this big, awkward mess that everyone pretends to ignore. If you try to do something about it, you'll get complaints about disrespecting the True Silver Spirit, and you’ll get questions about why you didn't create a new character instead... And if you did use a new character for the sake of a clean slate, THEN you'd get complaints about not using Silver.

It's a tough call to be sure, and it's such a shame because like I said, I do appreciate his personality, so I can't say he's bad outright. But with all this... clutter, I can only put him in the average category. So, in he goes.

Crusher Gives Silver a: Thumbs Sideways!

Well, I'm glad this one's out of the way. Putting my thoughts into words with Silver was harder than it should have been. I do slightly regret starting this series off on a rather downer note, but rest assured, it's a lot more positive from this point onwards, since while I have higher praise for some heroes more than others, the hero characters as a whole fare a lot better than the majority of villains not named Eggman.

I guess you could say that I hope to show why Sonic's friends aren't as shitty as the haters would suggest. ;)

[an-absolute-travesty]

Secret Santa fic!

Heya @all-eternity it was me all along! I hope you enjoy this :) very much looking foward to actually being able to follow you after this without looking sketchy lmao

Also shoutout to my lovely beta reader @keepersandqueens as if I don’t talk about Salas enough here lol

Warnings: underage drinking, drinking in general, hangover, drugs/medication mention (not abused, basic over the counter stuff dw), mentions of vomit (not described)

Pairings: Kam, background marelinh, ex titz

About: Kam coffee shop college au 

Word count: 5,205

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added or removed): @cadence-talle @ruewen-and-rising @lemontarto @a-lonely-tatertot @clearlyvacksen @percabetn @sewersewersewercouch @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @enbies-and-felonies @blxckh0les42​ @rainbowtay-11 @callas-starkflower-stew @impostertamsong @appalyneinstitute1 @stars-and-splendor @anna-without-an-e @mistythegenderqueermess @we-have-no-bananas-today @we-wont-dissapear @jadenightthewriter

Tam stumbled into his first 8 am class, anxiety making his heart feel like it was pounding out of his chest and stomach doing backflips.

If he could survive bouncing between foster homes, a short stint at juvie, and worst of all high school, he could survive college.

Well he thought he could until he saw a familiar person right next to the only available chair in the room.

God fucking damn it.

"Hey Bangs Boy!" Keefe waved him down, causing a scene. Tam had no option but to sit beside him, both because of the lack of chairs and the fact that everyone was now staring at him.

Not a great start.

"What a coincidence! I notice you still haven't taken my suggestions on your hair, I'm telling ya' you'd get all the girls and or guys and nonbinary pals with a man bun." Keefe looked smug at the fact he'd be able to taunt Tam for another semester, minimum. Tam was already making a mental note to check when he could swap out of classes.

"Keefe, if I knew you were going here I would've just gotten myself back in jail, oh wait, you were the one who got me in there in the first place." Tam shot him a look, praying that he'd suddenly develop superpowers and shoot lasers from his eyes.

"Hey, just because I came up with the idea...and helped with some of the execution, doesn't mean I'm responsible for you trashing your parents house. Besides, you were only in there for like 3 days max before you got out," Keefe said, shrugging as if 3 days in jail was no biggie.

"Most peaceful 3 days of my life," Tam sneered, turning back to the front of the room as the professor walked in.

"Good morning class!" the prof turned to the white board, writing his name. "I am Dr. Harding," he tapped it for emphasis.

The class was silent.

"And you say good mor..."

"Good morning Dr. Harding," The class said in unison, they all sounded tired and bored.

This wasn't going to be fun.

~*~

"Grande ice vanilla latte for...Hen-are-y?"

The man shot Keefe a look as he grabbed his coffee.

"Henry." He dropped a tip in the jar, fifty cents. How generous.

He had come in before, and never left good tips. Keefe made it a game to pronounce the names of anyone who wasn't a college student and left bad tips wrong, no matter how much they came in. It was a wonder he hadn't been fired yet.

As he turned preparing another drink, the bell at the top of the door rang. He ignored it at first until he heard a quiet, "Fuck," come from behind.

"Bangs boy!"

"Why are you here?"

"I work here obviously," Keefe walked up to the counter. "Now, what'll it be?"

Tam sighed. "Iced caramel macchiato with two extra shots of espresso."

"Size?"

"Venti."

Keefe whistled thinking about how much caffeine that was as he wrote down "Bangs Boy" on the cup.

"Alright, that'll be 5.75, may I ask why the insane amount of coffee? I believe I remember you saying caffeine makes you anxious in high school."

"Yes, but it also helps me focus, and I have a quiz tomorrow I haven't studied for."

"Fair enough," Keefe said, going to prepare the drink. "It'll be ready in five."

Tam nodded, walking off to the side and scrolling on his phone. Keefe made the drink, occasionally sneaking looks over at Tam. He didn't seem to notice, thank God.

Soon after, they finished the transaction.

"See you at class," Keefe said, he was trying to be genuine, but it came across more taunting.

Tam grimaced, muttered "Thanks for the coffee," and walked out the door.

~*~

The class fell silent as a disheveled Dr. Harding walked in, a pack of gatorade in one hand and bottle of tylenol in the other. He popped one as he sat down.

"Hello class it seems today I have the worst headache imaginable, just give me about 5 minutes of silence and we will go over your assignments."

Keefe leaned over to Tam's desk.

"Well, we know what he got into last night," he whispered. "Heard the bar on the corner of 5th was giving out two for ones for professors."

"Isn't that place run by the alumni?"

"Exactly. Gotta thank Alvar tomorrow, Fitz said it was his idea."

"Wait Fitz goes here too? Why did I not-"

"Boys!" Dr. Harding practically yelled. "I am tired of the racket." He put his face in his hands where his elbows rested on the desk, bald spot showing to the world.

"We were whispering!" Keefe made a 'what the hell' sort of gesture. Tam glared at him, hoping he could communicate 'I will kill you myself if you say another word' with just his eyes.

"Sencen, do I look like I care?"

Keefe winced a bit at the use of his last name. That was something Tam could understand.

"Look, boys," Dr. Harding stood up and turned to the chalkboard, writing something down. "If you all like talking so much, you'll love this next project."

He walked to the side, revealing the board, that read '10 page essay, due the 25th'

"With the person next to you, you'll be writing a 10 page essay on um...the importance of keeping your oil changed in your car. You'll then present it to the class. It's worth 25 points."

A student raised their hand.

"Luka?"

"Sir, I thought this was a psychology course?"

"It is. You are all excused."

With that, he left the room with his tylenol and gatorade in his arms. The students glared at Keefe and Tam as they all got up, muttering amongst themselves about the pure bullshittery of it all.

"So..." Keefe said, slowly standing. "Does the library tomorrow at 3 work? I have work until then, so it can't be any earlier."

"Yeah, sure." Tam promptly walked out of the classroom as fast as possible, he didn't know why but his anxiety was spiking. He tried to tell himself it was just because he was a useless gay that didn't know jackshit about cars, yeah, surely that was it.

Just a useless gay.

~*~

Tam waited at a table in the library, it was 3:05, Keefe was late.

He didn't know what else he expected from him, he always seemed to do stuff like this. At the same time, Tam didn't have the energy to be particularly mad at him. This was going to be the stupidest essay ever written in the history of man, might as well put it off.

The library door slammed open, and in came Keefe. He balanced a large stack of papers and books along with four drinks. He stumbled over to Tam and practically threw them down on the table.

"Sorry I'm late, I thought it would be nice to, like, get you a coffee, but I didn't know how much caffeine you wanted, so I got one decaf caramel macchiato, one normal, and one with an extra shot, and also hot chocolate for me."

He sat down in the chair by Tam, as if getting three different coffees for someone you were forced to do a project with was totally normal.

"Um...thanks, I-I can pay you back-"

"Don't worry about it." Keefe turned to him and smiled, bright and friendly. Tam was frozen. "Okay, now it's car time." Keefe turned back to the desk.

"Yeah."

They were silent for a while as they researched, Keefe going through his piles of papers and books and Tam on his laptop like any sane person would.

Tam finally worked up the nerve to talk.

"So um...this is out of nowhere, but I think you mentioned Fitz went here?"

"Oh, yeah." Keefe put down the absurdly large textbook that was set up in front of him. "He's my roommate, he uh thought it would be best not to tell you after everything, I guess."

"That's fine," Tam shrugged like he didn't care. "I'm over it."

He was, really. They only dated like 2 weeks, sure it ended with a...pretty big fight after Fitz claimed he wouldn't be able to date someone who had gone to jail and Tam reminded him it was his best friend that got him in there in the first place, but he was still over it. There was still something bothering him, nothing to do with Fitz himself but...something. He just couldn't put his finger on what.

"Alright, I'll take your word." Keefe shrugged, setting his giant book back up in front of him.

Tam felt the need to start talking again, but didn't. They were mostly silent for the next 40 minutes or so, just researching and the occasional word exchanged between them.

Keefe checked his phone.

"Shit," He got up. "Work emergency, I gotta go. Same time tomorrow?"

"Yeah that works."

"Chill, see ya' later."

"Bye."

Keefe waved (with a wide grin Tam would've called idiotic in high school) as he went out the door.

Tam found himself with a smile on his own face, he quickly stopped, hoping no one saw.

~*~

Keefe hurried into work, pulling his apron on as he saw the absurdly long line and a panicked Marella frantically making coffees behind the counter. She sighed with relief when she saw him.

"Thank God," She said as he stepped behind the counter with her. "There was a scheduling error, Forkle's useless at that stuff."

Mr. Forkle, their well-meaning but often mistaken manager, was out of town at the moment. The fate of the Starbucks rested on two college kids, what could go wrong.

And so they went, Keefe taking orders and Marella fulfilling them until there were no more to serve.

Marella, quite literally, threw in a towel she had wiped her face with. Promptly going to the back, presumably for her break. Keefe followed her.

"Alright, I think you can probably go back to whatever you were doing before this now if you'd like," said Marella, inspecting the small braids in her hair in the nearest shiny surface.

"Nah I was just doing a project with Tam for Harding's stupid class, he's probably left by now, I might as well rack up some overtime."

Marella turned back at him, clearly caught off guard at the name.

"Tam? As in my-girlfriend's-brother Tam? As in you-had-a-massive-crush-on-in-highschool Tam? As in dated-Fitz Tam? As in you-got-him-in-jail-"

"Yes! Yes! Why does everyone remind me of that, it was one time."

"When you get someone in jail, people tend to remember," Marella went silent for a second, thinking, before looking Keefe in the eye. "Wow, that must be awkward as hell, I mean seriously, if I were you I'd straight up file a restraining order just to avoid him. Maybe move to another country. I hear Estonia is lovely this time of year."

"Eh, it's not as bad as it seems. I mean it was awful at first, mostly because I tried to resume right where we left it on the taunting front, but I think it's ok now."

"Hm. Well good luck with that," Marella turned back to go to the front, but Keefe grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Uh, actually I need your advice on something. It has to do with Tam."

"Shoot."

"Well I was thinking of maybe, I don't know, asking him out or something? Look, yeah, it's an awful idea but is it 'he never wants to talk to me again' awful or 'he attempts to strangle me' awful?"

Marella looked him up and down, eyes uncomfortably cold, as usual.

"I mean, no hetero, but despite your annoying qualities you're a decent looking guy. Plus Tam's, like, super anxious according to Linh, so maybe he'll be too awkward to say no. You can probably squeeze at least one date in there."

"Wow, thanks Mare," Keefe mumbled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes, I try. Also don't call me Mare."

"Alright Ella!" Keefe called as the front door's bell rang, signalling a new customer. Marella went off to take care of it, unable to respond she growled back at him.

~*~

Tap tap tap tap tap.

Tam glared from across the table.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap.

"Why do you keep doing that?"

Keefe looked up, muttered a simple "Fidgety" and went right back to it, tapping his pen against the table. Tam said nothing more.

Keefe had been quiet for this entire meeting, something highly unusual for him.

"Ok, seriously dude, what's up? I haven't seen you this quiet literally ever."

He only seemed to get more fidgety at this question, his bouncing leg shaking the library table.

"I...um..." he looked down, running a hand through his hair "I have a test I need to cram for and no one to study with and keep me accountable. Y'know, ADHD issues."

Tam didn't overthink for once in his life but the moment the sentence was out of his mouth he regretted it.

"I have a test too, maybe we could study together?"

Keefe smiled his annoyingly charming smile.

"Sounds good."

"Good."

Tam quickly looked back down at his computer, trying to look like he was still doing car research when in actuality he was processing he just actively offered to spend more time with Keefe Sencen.

If Linh found out about this he'd never live it down.

He didn't think he cared.

~*~

Dr. Harding walked through the classroom door, clearly much less hungover than his last appearance.

The students waited, would they get an apology? Any sort of remorse?

"Alright, who wants to read first?"

Apparently not.

Keefe raised his hand with too much confidence for what their essay looked like. Tam gave him a confused look. He had his scheming face on, never good.

"Mr. Sencen!" Keefe winced at the use of his last name by the doctor. "What an amazing start, it's only appropriate. One of you boys come up and present."

Tam gave Keefe a look of 'do you want me to do it?' Keefe just smiled and got up from his chair. This would either be really good or really, really bad. Tam was all too familiar with the scheme face.

"Doc, I did depart from the source material a bit here, hope you don't mind. And I use 'I' because Tam had no involvement in this, he deserves full points for his essay."

Keefe cleared his throat, the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"Doctor Harding deserves to get fired: an essay. (And it's only been a week!) Paragraph one, his drinking problem-"

"Sencen! Back to your seat now. I will see you after class, or I will not see you in my next class, understand?"

Keefe gave a thumbs up as he sat back on his chair with a thud.

A few minutes later, in the middle of another student's essay, he passed Tam a note with his loopy handwriting.

"The amount of comebacks I had for 'see me after class' is absurd but if I get kicked out there's no way Elwin is helping me pay tuition a second time."

Tam tried not to smile, certainly failing, as he wrote his response.

"Yeah I think the time you talked back to Miss Cadence she wanted to expel you. Lucky Principal Alina had a thing for pseudo-dad Alden."

"Oh God I haven't talked to him in a whiiiiiile."

"?"

"You haven't heard? Yeah, he sorta found out like ALL his kids were ell gee bee tees and freaked out. Della found herself a new gf though!"

"Sounds like a lovely extra punch in the gut for a queerphobe."

"Yep. Honestly I recommend looking through his Facebook sometime. Just a million rants about how the gays destroy everything, great entertainment."

"Duly noted."

At that point it seemed like the doctor started to take notice of their note passing, and they stopped quickly. Tam wouldn't be surprised if he did the whole high school read in front of the class thing with the way he had been acting so far.

Tam was 100% sure tenure was the only thing keeping this guy's job intact. Apparently being a drunk asshole wasn't near enough to get a person out of their position. He tried to ignore the professor's annoyingly smug face for the rest of the class.

~*~

Keefe sat in his usual spot at the library, Tam sitting across from him, his brown eyes dancing across the textbook page and lips mumbling along the words. He didn't have much to do, often finding himself just staring at Tam, quickly looking away if he seemed to notice.

Eventually he sighed, sitting back.

"Ugh, this test is in a week and I have so much other crap to do, I'll never get this all memorized by Friday."

Keefe silently thanked his brain for managing to get around the having to study thing. Yay, photographic memory!

"Oh, uh, well I'm free to study more tomorrow if that would help? We could do, like, flashcards or something."

Tam seemed to repress a smile. He did that a lot. Keefe always noticed.

"That's okay, I'm sure you have better things to do. The Starbucks is always pretty packed."

"Eh, sometimes you have to get away from Marella. She's mean to me."

"Not just you, once she told me if I ever made fun of Linh's cat's name again she'd make me cut off my own bangs."

Keefe nodded sagely. "The shorter you are the closer to hell. That's why you're worse than her."

"Hey!"

Tam flicked a stray rubber band at Keefe.

"I'm at least 2 inches taller than Marella...we measured."

Keefe thought up about 12 inappropriate jokes he couldn't make before flicking the rubber band back.

"Two inches only counts in roller coasters, none of which you can ride."

Tam stuck his tongue out before returning to his studies. Unlike Tam, Keefe didn't hide his smile.

~*~

Tam strolled into the Starbucks that Friday morning, no longer surprised to see Keefe working the counter. He could barely hold still in line as he thought about the amount of cramming he'd have to do in the next few hours.

When he reached the counter, Keefe said nothing, just busily worked making a drink.

He stuck it right out at Tam.

"One venti iced caramel macchiato with 2 extra shots of espresso because you have a test today in political science and still haven't studied everything and also a muffin because you probably haven't eaten today. On the house. Good luck with the studying."

Tam froze.

"I- um- th-thaks. Y-you too...sport."

Oh, you fucking idiot.

He quickly scurried out of the Starbucks with drink and muffin in hand. Wow, he had screwed that up.

But...

Keefe...

He...

He remembered his order and that he had a test and that he forgot to eat when he was stressed holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit-

Okay, deep breaths Tam, you got this. You can totally handle a frustratingly cute guy showing care for you this is fine...

Not fine, not fine, gotta tell Linh.

He called Linh with no forewarning. Despite the fact that she was currently across the country at a different university, and it was about 3 am for her, she picked up. He barely let her get out a groggy "Hello?" before explaining everything. She only seemed to think a moment before responding.

"Hm. Well it's good to know that college is going good for you. Do you need advice or comfort?"

"Yes."

"Well, first of all, everything's gonna be okay. And I know that doesn't help much but just try to remember we're eighteen, and it's not the end of the world. Second of all, try to ask him out or something. It doesn't have to be framed as a date, like Marella and I got together on a walk in the park, seriously it can be anything."

"Thanks Linh."

"No problem, also can you hug Marella for me?"

"If she doesn't try to kill me first, yes."

"Nice. Okay go do what you gotta do, also don't wake me up at 3 am again or else I'll sic Purryfins on you, I had just gone to bed."

With that she hung up and Tam continued on his way, still trying to not completely freak out.

~*~

Keefe stared blankly as Tam walked right out of the door. Marella appeared by his arm.

"So, how'd it go?"

"Well, he called me 'sport'."

Marella inhaled through her teeth.

"Yikes. Comfort, advice, or distraction?"

"Distraction, please." Keefe replied, absent-mindedly preparing a cup for the next customer.

"Uh, well I meant to ask you what ended up happening with that ass of a teacher, but I got a bit distracted at your attempt to woo Tam-"

"Hey I said distraction not reminder. But basically I just got a slap on the wrist because, and I quote, 'Your father is Cassius Sencen! He wrote half the books we use in this class, I'm sure he can straighten you out!'"

"There's absolutely nothing papa Sencen could do to make you straight, I'm pretty sure he tried that, and it obviously didn't work."

"He actually tried a few times and it most definitely did not. Lucky he doesn't have my number anymore or else I assure you he'd keep trying."

Marella laughed.

"Well, moving on from grade A assholes, I'm supposed to tell you there's a party tonight. I'll have to send you the address later, I have it on my phone though, I am told there's gonna be booze, so I'm going."

"Eh, I'll probably go. Just to get my mind off everything."

"Thata boy." She lifted her phone. "And my shifts over in three, two, one, and I am out of here! See ya' tonight Hunkyhair."

"That's Lord Hunkyhair to you."

She just rolled her eyes and clocked out, leaving Keefe to deal with both the customers and his own thoughts.

~*~

Tam sat in his dorm room alone, constantly refreshing his grades for the possibility that his 70-year-old professor would post the test results at 1:30 am.

His roommate was gone for the weekend, actually he was gone most of the time. Tam didn't think they'd even had a full conversation before.

He jumped as his phone began to ring, a call from Keefe of all people. He hesitantly picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Tam! Tam Tam Tam Tam Tam" Keefe's slurred speech was too loud for a phone call, Tam held his phone a bit away from his ear. "...fuck wait why did I call you..."

There was a long pause, neither said anything.

"Oh yeah! I needed to tell you something...but uh I uhm I forgot what it was."

"Keefe, where are you?"

"At a paaaaaarty, well, actually just outside a party because it was hot in there, but now it's cold out here so uh yeah."

Tam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, send me the address, I'm coming to pick you up. Wait right there and don't move."

"Okie dokie."

Tam heard a thud sort of sound and the rustling of grass from the other line before Keefe hung up and soon after got a message of his location.

After 20 minutes of walking in the cold, Tam came up to what seemed to be a frat house with Keefe sitting on the lawn in criss-cross, patiently waiting in short sleeves and basketball shorts, way too little clothing for the weather. His ruddy face smiled as he saw Tam approach.

"Tam! I remembered what I was going to tell you." He stood up, face falling right after. "Oh no wait I forgot again. Ooh! You need a drink."

Keefe grabbed Tam's hand, pulling him towards the house. Tam stayed in place.

"Hey, let's get you home dude."

Keefe pouted.

"I don't wannaaaa."

He slouched down, pulling on Tam's arm like a child having a tantrum.

Tam pulled him back up to his feet.

"C'mon, if you go to your dorm without fuss I'll buy you ice cream tomorrow."

Keefe seemed much more ok with going along with Tam with the ice cream deal. He pulled off his own coat and placed it around the very drunk boy, he didn't complain.

Keefe began humming some annoying song from the early 2000s that was playing from the house earlier as they walked back in the direction of the dorms.

Suddenly, Tam remembered something.

Fitz was Keefe's roommate.

Shit.

"Hey uh do you think Fitz is at your dorm?"

Keefe nodded confidently.

"Yep! Said he was gon' study. Wouldn't come to the party because of his 'reputation' or whatever."

Around reputation he did exaggerated finger quotes, nearly knocking Tam's jacket off his shoulders.

"Hm...in that case let's go to my dorm, ok?"

Keefe shrugged, apparently willing to go along with most things in his current state. Thank goodness Linh had made Tam bring extra pillows and blankets to college, he could sleep on the floor and just hope Keefe didn't get sick on him in the night.

It was ridiculously hard to lead Keefe back to his dorm. He tried to pull down his pants halfway there and Tam almost had to carry him up the stairs but soon enough they got there. He sighed with relief as he led his inebriated friend into the room.

"Okay, you can stay here for the night. I'll sleep on the floor."

Keefe plopped himself down on Tam's bed laying flat for only a moment before sitting up with a snap and a look of realization in his eyes.

"OOH! I remember what I was gonna tell you again!"

"Oh?" Tam said playing along, expecting him to forget again.

He patted the spot next to him on the bed, Tam continued to play along, sitting next to him.

"So Marella said that I should just tell you this, and it worked for her, so I'm gonna. And uh and you have to promise to listen 'cause I'm not sayin' it again."

At this point Keefe grabbed his face with both hands, staring right in Tam's eyes and squishing his cheeks.

"You're listening right?"

Tam nodded, mostly to shake Keefe's hands off his face.

"Okay."

Keefe took in an over dramatic breath as if he was preparing to preform in the Olympics before getting another grin on his face.

"I really like you."

"You really like me?"

He nodded mumbling "mhm".

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I like you. Like, like like you."

"Like...as a friend?"

"I said I wasn't gonna repeat myself. As a booooyfriend." At this point Keefe fell back on the bed, looking at the ceiling. Tam's cheeks were burning.

"How long have you liked me like that?"

"Mmmm..." Keefe seemed to ponder for a moment, "Prolly high school."

"Oh um...good to know. You should get some rest. I'll be down here if you need me."

"Alrighty."

Tam shut off the lights and Keefe started snoring quick. Tam could only stare up in the darkness, unable to sleep.

~*~

Keefe woke up that morning in a room he didn't recognize to a killer headache and dead phone.

He turned to the side, seeing a pile of blankets and pillows with a large gatorade, bottle of tylenol, and a note next to it. Suddenly last nights memories came flooding back.

Oh, shit.

He scrambled out of bed, headache and nausea hitting him harder as he stood up.

Despite the fact his head was spinning, he picked up the note from the ground and read it.

Hey, meet me at the reservoir around 6, we need to talk -Tam

F. U. C. K.

Had he really said all that stuff last night? Surely it was a dream, right?

Oh God.

He gathered his few belongings, plus the things to help the hangover, and left the dorms as fast as possible. Only having to stop once along the way to throw up in one of the campus trash cans, hopefully no one would notice.

Keefe didn't have anything to do and he really didn't want to face Fitz so he went about his day in last nights clothing. Then again, it was a college campus. Someone walking around with rumpled clothes carrying a gatorade probably wasn't that big of a deal for most people. By 5:30 he sat impatiently in the empty park where the reservoir was located, it was colder closer to the water.

Just as promised, at 6 o'clock he saw Tam approaching on the horizon.

~*~

Tam was damn near a panic attack as he walked around the park attempting to find Keefe. Eventually he found him, sitting on a bench still in his clothes from last night, face once again ruddy from the cold. He sat next to him wordlessly.

"So," Keefe started.

"So," Tam replied, looking down at his lap.

"Tam I-" Keefe turned to face him. "I'm sorry about everything last night, I probably just made everything super awkward. Not to mention it's a giant violation of the friend code to even have a crush on your best friend's ex-"

"Yeah, about that."

"What?"

"You're gonna maybe kill me for this but uh," Tam pulled on his bangs. "I sorta talked to Fitz about it, I figured you wouldn't and apparently I was right. He said he was okay with it as long as we were ok with it."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Tam sighed, "Perhaps."

Keefe once again wore that shit-eating grin of his.

"Can I hear you say it?"

"Why don't you have to say it?"

"Already said it last night! Your turn now. Why did you take care of me while I was drunk?"

Keefe stared at Tam excitedly waiting for the answer. Tam sighed.

"Because I love you, little shit."

"Ooh you said it-"

Tam smashed his lips against Keefe's, both quickly melting into it. After only a moment they pulled away.

"Agh, you taste like gatorade and vomit."

"Well you taste like salt so really what's worse."

"Definitely the vomit."

Despite this, Tam leaned back in. This kiss was a moment longer than the last, and when Tam pulled away Keefe chased it.

"Ok, look I'm sorry but you look like shit Keefe you have to go change." Tam removed his jacket, throwing it around Keefe once again and helping him up from the bench. Keefe laughed.

"Yeah, you're right. Ooh now that we're a thing you need a new nickname!"

"I do?"

"You do, how about 'Bangs Boyf' ooh or maybe you can be my 'provoked partner' or my 'snappy spouse' my 'agitated accomplice' perhaps."

"Do you just have these ready and prepared for any situation?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets."

"You aren't Houdini, you're an 18-year-old boy that currently reeks of frat party."

"Eh that's basically the same thing. I've seen some 18-year-olds at frat parties preform tricks Houdini could never dream of."

Tam sighed dramatically. "It's a good thing you're pretty, you know."

"Hey!" Keefe jokingly shoved him.

For the first time Tam's smile wasn't repressed.

[akp-1327]

dear diary // chapter ten

Auditions have arrived...O_o

Fair warning, I don’t know much about drama...anything? So I did a bunch of research from the original books, websites, and friends with experience...so let me know if any of this is inaccurate!

Also...hello! It’s been waaaaaay way way too long since the last update, but I’m beyond happy to be back! :)

As always, find the series masterlist here (Tumblr) or here (AO3) to catch up! :)

Pairings: Ajay Bhandari x f!MC (Charlotte Parker), Skye Crandall x f!OC (Leila Maciel)

Word Count: 6.5k

(*) Warnings: the briefest mention of dementia, otherwise there’s just a roller coaster of emotions in this chapter!

After one of the fastest weeks known to man, it was the day that classes started

This morning was all too familiar; the sudden remembrance of signing up for the morning classes, then the curse as I woke up with the sun. However, it was comforting to have this routine again. It made me feel normal, which had been a feeling I missed all summer back at Dad’s.

Walking to class on days like these, where the sun was warm and the sky was clear, had been another thing I missed. Birds chirping, the light foot traffic around campus, the smell of coffee wafting on the light breeze...

I could only think of how many hours spent pouring over the script for The Enchanted Kingdom. There were also points where Rory physically had to tear me away from the script to get outside, which to say, was not a task he succeeded at...

“C’mon! It’ll be fun! We can go find you some new blazers or something, since you insist on wearing them all the time.” Rory was slowly easing a highlighter from my hand. I gave him a death glare and he backed away, “At least take a break? You’ve been hunched here for hours.”

After a pointed look into his eyes, I focused my attention back on the script in front of me.

“I’m completely fine. Also, while I would love to get a few new blazers, I don’t have the time right now.” My voice was rough. I hadn’t been able to sleep much or eat anything but instant ramen for the past couple days. Though, I was feeling adventurous this morning and drank a piping hot cup of coffee. That felt like it did the trick, at least for a good while...until I fell asleep on my script for an hour or so. Ever since then, my eyes have been pretty droopy.

“Just let me be, Rory.”

Without another word, Rory sighed and left with a frown.

...was I a jerk that day? Maybe. But that was my nature; I’m a director and I’m supposed to be that way.

Another drift of wind caught the unbuttoned flannel I wore. Flannel was definitely a go-to right now, especially since all my blazers were much too warm for this kind of weather. Also, who knows who I’ll see?

I adjusted the backpack on my shoulders with a heavy sigh and tightened my grip on the straps. Something about today felt different from first days of class in the past. Could it be how nice the weather was today? It’d been raining on the first day for the past two years...

Maybe it was about where I was going? Performance Theory wasn’t the most interesting thing on the planet, but it was also something I’d taken the past two years. By now, it was something to wake me up in the morning. So why would that make me feel weird?

I shook the feeling away and continued to walk at a relaxed pace, focusing on something else.

Naturally, my eyes traced over campus. A big group of students laughing in the shade of a tall maple tree, a few couples walking shoulder to shoulder, and many stragglers like me with their textbooks in hand.

The environment was serene, and it was definitely one I enjoyed. The long summer of renting out that spare room at Dad’s apartment was, at last, something I didn’t need to worry about for a while. Or...ever again, now that I’ve visited Amma.

Maybe that was the feeling? Amma looked so happy to see me, and so did Mo. I guess I missed them more than I thought...

My feet fell onto a familiar path towards the arts building. I was almost there; only a few more steps and a small staircase until the doors--

“Ajay!” A voice shouted from behind me, making my eyes roll. I fought the urge to keep walking and just ignore them, but I knew that’d be a bad choice with who this was.

Craaaaaap.

“Danielle.” I greeted through gritted teeth. I turned around to face her. “Hello.”

She gave her normal maniacal grin, creepy as always.

“Auditions are tonight, yeah?” She asked, and then held up her already battered script for me to see. There was bright yellow, green, and pink post-its peeking out from the pages. She’d always been dedicated to her auditions...but she just couldn’t execute.

Honestly? That was okay. She was an alright person for ensemble roles because she’d been a good dancer. But that doesn’t mean she was a great actor.

“They are, so make sure to be at the auditorium by four.” I sounded a little annoyed, but Danielle was oblivious. She wouldn’t notice; even if she did, she wouldn’t care. “Don’t be late, otherwise I’ll make sure you can’t audition.”

Her eyes widened a little, but otherwise that annoying smile still stretched across her face. Ugh, absolutely obnoxious.

“I won’t let you down! Oh, and tell Rory to save me a seat!” Danielle said before walking away with a wave. Once she was out of sight, I rolled my eyes with a shudder and started walking to class again.

*

*

As expected, classes were already boring. One lecture after another, going through all those stupid, stereotypical ice breaker games. Your name, your birthday, your major, your entire life plan...

I didn’t have another class until noon, and that was about an hour and a half from now. To pass the time, I decided to pull out my script. The sun reflected off the white paper and instantly obliterated my retinas, so with a watery blink, I looked away and tucked it back into place in my backpack, vowing to look at it later.

There was...nothing left for me to do.

Wait, is this what people call a break? This is what breathing feels like? Wow, this is so surreal...

Something about the moment just felt wrong. I shouldn’t be idle like this.

Students were laughing as they walked by. I recognized a few of them, but only by their faces. Some I recognized from past classes, others from past ensembles, a few from Lafayette...

Then, though, I found a familiarity within the group.

Erin.

“Ajay,” Erin smiled, looking relaxed as she sat next to me, “didn’t expect to see you sitting here.”

I gave her an eye roll. “Is it...illegal?”

Her loud laugh drew the attention of people around. “In the book of Ajay, it definitely is. It’s almost concerning to see you so calm on audition day.”

So it was noticeable. Huh. Immediately, my posture straightened and I crossed my legs, prompting Erin to laugh a little.

“I guess it’s just weird coming from you. I’m not a drama nerd, but I know this isn’t how directors normally act when they’re hours away from auditions.” She slowly turned to face me before continuing. “Anyway, what brings you to this bench?” 

Her voice was surprisingly even. She looked like she’d been doing a lot better, but I could still see the sadness and exhaustion in her eyes. Erin had always been extremely resilient and level-minded, but even she could only handle so much stress at once. 

“My next class is at noon so I figured I’d sit for a little while.”

Almost immediately, she sighed. “Preach. I have psych, so I’m in for a treat.”

Then, silence. It was thick, deafening, excruciating...I quickly wracked my brain for a question to get rid of it. Her confession about her grandma came up, then so did something else.

I hated to bring it up, but my mind wouldn’t forgive me if I chose something else to talk about.

“Erin, what happened to your grandpa?”

The question was met with another sigh, but this one was heavier. Regret already plagued my brain, but it was too late now. Nice job, Ajay.

“Let me guess, Rory told you?” Her expression wasn’t much different, but it definitely solidified into a more serious one than before.

“Yeah, on the first day back. With your grandma and all, I was wondering if they were both...”

Before she spoke again, she took a deep breath. “No, no. You’re right to wonder. It’s nothing concerning, though. He just didn’t like the idea of being separated from my grandma while she gets treatment, and so he let out a lot of his frustrations on me in an argument a few days before I came here. Said he didn’t like everyone he loved leaving him,” she shrugged, shaking her head, “I called Rory afterwards, since his parents were the same way when he left for college, and that ended up being a three hour-long conversation.”

I nodded when she took a break, and in that moment, I wondered how she worked through this. It was terrible, especially when her family was so far away.

“It hurt when I left this time, of course, but I think it’s good for me to get away from them for a while. I just need some space to process everything.” She shook her head, almost like she was shaking the thoughts away. Instead, she changed the topic. “Did Rory say something bad happened to my grandpa?”

Another nod, and Erin clicked her tongue.

“Rory was just being a gossip like always, then. Pops is just adjusting,” A genuine smile came back to her face, which was always reassuring. “So, I heard you went to your mom’s house? How was that?”

I groaned. “Can we talk about something else?”

She laughed loudly and, again, prompted lots of attention to our bench. “That great, huh?”

I sighed. The weird feeling from earlier came back, slowly eating away at my thoughts once more.

Erin quirked an eyebrow. “You’re making a face.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, challenging her gaze. “I always make a face. Everyone makes a face. It’d be concerning if someone didn’t make a face.”

That answer only made her eyes narrow even more.

“You’re rambling,” With this realization, she looked me over, “are you...okay? You never ramble.”

I could feel my leg start to bounce. “I can assure you that I’m fine.”

She hummed loudly, and I noticed my hands were starting to sweat a little.

“Add that to the pile of other lies you’ve been telling Rory for the past week. He’s been keeping me in the loop since, y’know, you never text me,” her elbow nudged my arm with a force that made me let out an uncharacteristic squeak, “so I’m sorry, but I’m not buying any of that crap. I can easily tell something’s bugging you.”

“I’m just stressed and on edge for tonight. That’s all.” Was all I could say. Knowing Erin, she wouldn’t take that as a viable answer.

“You’re never on edge for auditions. You say it’s one of the most laid back parts of the process...” Erin’s voice was accusative. She could see right through me. Sadly, that had always been one of her talents.

“Sometimes auditions are easy, but this isn’t one of those times,” I heaved a loud sigh and rested my chin on my ever-so-slowly tightening fist, “It’s a big cast, and so that a lot of decisions need to be made.”

Erin was quiet for a second. I could hear her drumming her fingers against the cover of her textbook softly, and then she spoke. “Sure, I get that part, but you’re off, too.”

I whipped my head towards her and found a teasing smile growing on her lips. “How so?”

She cocked her head to the side and playfully squinted. “You’re not wearing a blazer, for one,” she was keeping a tally on her fingers, “you’re too relaxed, you’re bouncing your crossed legs, your posture is super straight, you’re rambling, you’re defensive, you’re even a little jumpy...”

I slouched back down at the mention, and this only made her smirk grow into a full-blown grin. “You’ve been pretty quiet about the show, too. By now, I’d usually hear you going on and on about them like a proud grandma.”

“Erin--”

“Oh, this scene will be so interesting to choreograph, and this scene will bring an audience to tears, and even this--” Erin’s voice was mocking. Of course she was fairly accurate, but it still got on my nerves.

“Okay, I get it,” A helpless sigh escaped me, and she had that knowing look in her eye that made me want to gag.

“What’s up with you?” Erin laughed, narrowing her eyes a little in curiosity. “Don’t leave a poor girl in suspense!”

The truth was something I could barely admit to myself. It was the thought of a feeling I never, ever wanted to experience again. Heartbreak.

“Ajay, you’re blushing...” Erin was smiling now.

And then it hit me. All hope was lost when she covered her mouth and squealed. I’ve never, ever blushed in front of her.

“Ooooohhhhh, do you like someone?” Erin started to cheer. I opened my mouth to stop her from getting too loud, but she was already squealing again. There was no stopping the stares from the passing students now. “Oh. My. God! And that someone is making you nervous, right?”

I grimaced, the reminder of why I kept quiet surfacing for the millionth time. People always make a big deal out of your feelings, so that’s why you never show any emotion.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t--” The heat sweltered on my cheeks, and I knew it was still visible when Erin clapped. She looked so relieved while I wanted the world to open up and swallow me whole.

“Oh, I called it! I so called it!”

I looked up at her and found her grinning with some emotion I couldn’t quite place. She looked like she was about to scream! “Erin, if you tell anyone, I swear to any and every deity in this damn universe--”

“Anyone does not include Rory. He needs to know!” Erin said excitedly.

“He does not need to know! That information is not on a need-to-know basis!”

And he’ll know exactly who it is!

“Ajay! This is awesome! It’s been so long since you liked someone!”

Awesome? Awesome?

“Awesome is one of the last words I’d use.” I could practically feel the blush on my cheeks slowly burn me from the outside in; it made me wonder if there were actual flames dancing on my skin. “They might be auditioning. I...can’t let something like that distract me from the show. You know what happened with Kelly.”

Finally, Erin let her smile turn into something more composed.

“That was two years ago. Plus, not to mention, it was with a girl who was as blind as a bat.” Erin lifted a hand onto my shoulder and patted it gently, “You’ve changed since then, so I think it’s safe for you to let that fear go.”

“I know I’ve changed,” I was basically whispering at this point, “but I guess I’m just...”

She patted my shoulder again. “You’re scared.”

Before I could bite my tongue, I blurted, “Terrified.”

She sat in silence for a minute, but then, that sly grin of hers was back. “Well, then.”

“What do I do?”

Erin placed her hands on my shoulders. “One of the healthiest ways to overcome a fear is through exposure therapy. So, maybe...you could tell me who they are?”

I searched her eyes, and much like her grin, all I found was warmth. It was the warmth that’d been missing from Erin since we’d arrived on campus. It was nice to see her start to heal from her summer and return to her normal self.

Still, I blurted the one word on my tongue. “No.”

She sighed, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “Ugh, fine. But just build the courage up sooner rather than later, please? I don’t handle anticipation very well and I’d very much like to know who made you this way.”

My eyebrows shot up. “You think I’m ready for that?”

Erin stood up, suddenly, and laughed. “That’s up for you to decide. Though, from an outsider’s perspective, I think you would’ve been just fine two years ago.”

Her gaze went soft for a second, but it was gone before I could decipher more. “Anywho, text me if you need help asking this mystery person out. You know I’d be happy to help!”

She was off with a sly wink before I could retort, already whipping her phone out to text Rory. Even if I didn’t want that to happen, I smiled.

*

*

My noon class was both a bore and a nightmare. Calculus was all gibberish - well, all math was - so I did my best to not pay attention to the professor. I needed to keep my head screwed on straight for later, so instead, I focused on reading through the script and notes I added in the margins. It ended up being quite nice, actually.

After the class spawned from the fiery depths of hell finished, I had a quick lunch consisting of a pack of rainbow goldfish crackers and hurried across campus to my next class.

Theatre arts was the perfect class for today, especially with it being audition night. Prime location and a great way to get back into the swing of things.

When I arrived, the auditorium entrance was buzzing with people. The drama building has never been a popular destination during the day, so what gives? Were auditions really something special this year?

Among the many faces, I spotted Rory, Skye, Leila, and Charlotte all huddled around a bulletin board on the front lawn. From the looks of it, they were...arguing, I suppose.

“...but wait! Skye, you’re good with computers!” Leila gasped, pointing at whatever was pinned on the board. “There are still tech spots available! And there isn’t an audition necessary for them.”

I watched Skye shake her head. Her hair was down, per usual, and she looked uptight. That was normal for her. But she also looked anxious when her eyes were looking at the bulletin board.

“Leila, you never need to audition for a tech spot,” Charlotte sighed, shaking her head, “can we please just let Skye make her own decision?”

“But there always needs to be more tech people! And it’d be fun to have another friend be at rehearsals.” Rory was pleading. He looked at Skye like she was his saving grace. “Please, Skye?”

It wasn’t an exaggeration at how small the tech crew was. Everyone in the drama program wants to act, not do tech. So, if anyone in the cast or crew heard about another tech, they’d jump at the opportunity and recruit them.

Skye gave everyone a look of dismay, then before she spoke, her eyes met mine.

“Ajay,” Skye said loudly, waving me closer. I hurried over and became apart of the huddle, and somehow fate was nice enough to put me next to Charlotte. “Does the drama program need more tech people?”

She was about to hate my guts.

“There’s never enough of them,” Memories of failing to do sound board last year flooded my mind, “don’t mind me asking, but would you be willing to give it a shot?”

That’s what made Skye groan. “Ugggg, you too?”

Her response made Leila laugh, but that was the only sound before a few moments of complete silence.

Finally, Skye sighed in defeat. “Depends. I’ll have to see what the software looks like first.”

I’ll take that as a yes...for now.

“Auditions are--” I started, but then Skye rolled her eyes.

“If I hear about auditions being tonight one more time, I swear...” Skye said, a hint of a smirk coming onto her face as she started to laugh. That was different, too; I don’t think I’ve ever heard her actual laugh.

“So does that mean you’ll do it?” Rory asked eagerly.

Skye smiled; it was small, but it was genuine. All the anxiety in her eyes vanished. “We’ll see.”

“Don’t feel forced to, though!” Charlotte squeaked, her voice cracking a little. “There are plenty of techs out there--”

“No! Don’t you dare rub her the wrong way!” Rory exclaimed, making Charlotte giggle.

It was cute. That thought alone made me blush a little.

Then, Leila gasped, her eyes widening in panic.

“Oh crap! I have to go!” Leila yelled, checking her phone. I decided to check my watch, and it read that it was almost two. Then she piped up again. “Skye, wanna walk with me?”

Skye let out a soft, surprised gasp. Her cheeks visibly reddened against her pale skin as she nodded.

“Sure,” Skye said, clearing her throat, “uh, maybe I’ll see you guys later,” she waved, allowing Leila to quickly drag her away by the arm, “jeez, lady, slow down--”

“Bye guys!” Leila yelled over her shoulder, then disappeared with Skye down the sidewalk and into a crowd of students.

Rory was the first one to speak, looking right at Charlotte. “Let me guess, you gotta go to the drama building?”

She nodded. “Whoa...it’s almost like I told you that when I got here...”

The two kept joking around as we started to walk into the building, but I kept thinking about what Erin had said about forgetting the whole Kelly situation. It felt like a great idea, but I couldn’t shake away all the fear associated with it.

It was another one of those things that’d eat away at my brain, but I guess that’d be okay. There wasn’t anything I could do about it now...

*

*

Theatre Arts wasn’t as boring as usual, but it was definitely a lot more chaotic. Commands for props here, calls for help with setting the lights up over there, and somewhere in between, lots of laughing coming from Charlotte and Rory.

It looked like Charlotte was blushing from here, but I couldn’t exactly tell. She and Rory were on the complete opposite side of the auditorium.

Professor Olson and I were skimming through the lists we had in front of us. It was hard to focus on the character descriptions I’ve read a gazillion times when I heard Charlotte’s vivacious laugh in the background.

“Alright,” Olson said, sounding exhausted already, “I’ve had some people hang posters around campus, so this shouldn’t be a hard place to find. Hopefully we get some new faces around here...”

Instantly, I looked over to Charlotte, still laughing at something Rory had said. Her smile brightened tenfold when she met my gaze, and she eagerly waved. With a small smile, I shook my head and looked back at Olson.

“That shouldn’t be too much of an issue,” I pulled out the form with all the auditionees on it and pointed to her name, “Charlotte Parker. Freshman.”

He nodded quizzically. “Anything unique about her?”

A lot, my brain immediately responded, though I shook the thought away.

“She performed at the Spotlite festival in London as a lead a few years back,” The professor’s eyebrows shot up, “and her school won. So I’d say she’s a pretty strong contender tonight.”

The fact that she was auditioning made me feel like I’d been punched in the gut by the universe. Exactly what I wished to not happen...happened. Though, at the same time, I couldn’t help but be a little excited to see what she could do on stage.

“That’s quite the accomplishment. Is there anyone else you know?”

As we ran through the list once more, a few names stuck out like sore thumbs; Rory, Danielle, Natalie, Clint, Jordan, and some frequents I’ve seen over the past couple years.

What finally tore my attention from the conversation was a gleeful scream.

“Skye!”

Charlotte. Duh.

Then, rushed footsteps up the aisle and towards the doors. A collision, then a groan of “why”. My guess: there was a hug and it’d been extremely one-sided.

That was Skye, alright.

Wait, my thoughts started to jumble together in panic, it’s already four?

Sure enough, I checked my watch. It was already a quarter til four.

“I hope you’re ready. It looks like this’ll be a long one.” Olson gestured back to the doors where Skye and Charlotte had still been talking. Several people were starting to flood into the seats, all with scripts in hand, and began to mingle.

“Jesus,” I mumbled.

As the start time approached, I got a little more nervous when thinking about the inevitable crashing and burning of this show if I let my feelings come before my job as a director.

Then, a loud timer rang off of Olson’s phone. He leaned over and whispered. “Show time.”

*

*

“Next, please!”

Already an hour in and we’d only made it through half of the list.

Jordan was on stage and running through their lines. They had a great way of controlling their emotions, but it all felt a little bland. However, it could’ve quite possibly been the scene they chose; a scene of the princess or prince daydreaming about the knight. 

I knew it’d be a popular scene for auditions; it really goes into the character of the princess or prince by going through ranges of emotion, from happiness and love to humiliation and regret. The scene is extremely captivating and is a great choice for actors to showcase the abilities they could bring to the table if they got the role. 

What I wasn’t prepared for, though, was the majority of the people auditioning for the role to use the same exact scene. Especially Jordan, who was usually someone who chose scenes that’d be risky for others. 

Strange.

“Alright, thank you, Jordan.” Professor Olson said, composed as ever. It took him a few moments to finish writing in notes next to Jordan’s name, but then he finished and glanced at the auditionee list. “Next, I’d like to see Danielle. Start whenever you’re ready.”

My eyes rolled. She scampered up onto the stage, script in hand, and started with a completely different tone than the millions of other scenes we’d heard. I quickly searched for the passage she’d been reading from in the never-ending stack of papers on the table.

She was reading for the witch, surprisingly enough. Her voice was startlingly dark. It was deep, it was evil, it was rich, it was...what we’d been looking for in a witch. However, her downfall was the lack of control over her emotions.

“Alright, Danielle, thank you.” Olson held up his hand, jotting a quick note down next to her name. Voice: dark, brooding, menacing. Emotions: uncontrolled.

During the transition, I took a glance back at the list to see who’d be next, and my heart stopped. It’s like I couldn’t feel it beat in my chest; it’d felt like it stopped entirely-

“Kelly, whenever you’re ready.”

My eyes snapped up to the stage, and there she stood. For the most part, she’d been the same Kelly I fell for two years ago, but this time, I didn’t get the butterflies in my stomach. Instead, the sight made me a little uneasy. Obviously it wasn’t her appearance, because that was the same, but her very presence.

The only feelings I had were irritation and sorrow and cowardice and regret--

“Ajay, are you ready?” Olson asked. The room was silent, and so I realized they’d been waiting on me.

“Oh. Um, yeah, go ahead.” My voice was rushed, but I barely noticed as the nostalgic feeling of her chocolate brown eyes burning into my being washed over me. It didn’t make me nervous like it used to, nor did it render me speechless.

“Right. Um.” Kelly said anxiously, fiddling with her script before she started to repeat the average line for the prince and princess roles. I noticed that her voice had the same lilt, but something didn’t feel right with it. 

It’s not for the right character, that’s why.

I tapped Olson’s shoulder and pointed to another character on the list, watching as he nodded.

“Kelly,” He interrupted her mid-sentence, and a look of fear glazed her eyes, “have you read over any lines for the witch?”

She shook her head, the look of fear melting into one of utter confusion.

“Flip back a page in your script and choose a line from the witch, then read it as you see fit. Take your time.”

I was so happy Olson was the one doing all the talking. I’d probably just tell her to move on at this point.

After a few moments, Kelly nodded and took a deep breath. Much like Danielle, she had the sharp undertones we’d been looking for, but they weren’t as clear as Danielle’s. Kelly, though, did have more control over her emotions.

I never thought I’d find myself saying this, but I hoped Danielle would have more advantages over Kelly. I just didn’t want to work with her again, not after what happened.

“Alright, Kelly, we’ll consider you for both options. Thank you.” 

At this point, Olson sounded exhausted beyond belief.

Kelly left the stage with a nod. My eyes met hers just before she vanished, and there was some emotion in them that I couldn’t quite place. Guilt, annoyance, confusion...I really didn’t know.

When she left the stage completely, it felt like there was a heavy weight lifted off of my shoulders.

“Well...let’s see here...” Olson mumbled under his breath, taking a sip of his coffee before he pointed down at one last list of names. “Only a few more left. How’re we looking?”

There’d been several great candidates for each role; this was always great, since then we’d have understudies and members for a complete ensemble.

“Like we’ll have some decisions to make, for sure,” I ran a hand through my hair as I read through the notes I made for each auditionee, “especially for a few of our veteran actors.”

It was true. Some were better for other roles, some didn’t have the strength or spark they did last year, some were improving...

“People change, scripts change, expectations change. It’s just a new journey to start,” When the exhausted professor smiled, the faintest purple bags beneath his eyes deepened, “and new journeys require a fresh and open mind.”

*

*

Somehow, Charlotte was the last to audition. When she was called to the stage, it was almost eight. Everyone in the house seats looked like they wanted to go home.

A familiar fluttering in my stomach appeared when she looked at me from beneath the stage lights. She looked like she’d been in her element, her smile shimmering and her eyes sparkling as she looked around at the red velvet seats in front of her. The script she held was neat and shook a bit, but her resolve remained calm and composed.

A good stage presence, I noted.

“Alright, Charlotte, because you’re new, do you have any questions I can answer before you start?” Olson’s voice gave way to his fatigue from asking the same question all evening, but Charlotte shook her head.

“All of my questions were answered throughout the evening,” She smiled, her voice smooth, “but if I have any, I’ll be sure to ask.”

That was an answer that made Olson blink in surprise. He wasn’t someone to be speechless, but those few seconds were definitely silent. It was clear she’d impressed him with just a sentence.

I definitely know the feeling...

“Excellent, so I believe you’re ready to go,” Olson wrote a few notes on his paper, then looked back up, “any specific role you’re auditioning for, or are you open to any?”

Charlotte cleared her throat and glanced at me before she focused on Olson once more. Her posture visibly straightened.

“I’d be open to any role. Lead, understudy, or ensemble.”

Jeez, she really does carry herself well.

“Sounds good...” After another scribbled note, Olson waved at her to continue. “Alright, whenever you’re ready.”

Her shoulders rose with a deep breath and she closed her eyes. It stayed that way for a second, and I couldn’t help but continue to admire her. It took strength to be that calm in front of a crowd.

She’s looks so natural up there, almost like that stage was built for her...

When her eyes opened, it’s like she’d transformed into an entirely new person. Her expression radiated innocence and her eyes filled with life, even more so than usual.

Then, she started to speak from a scene we hadn’t heard at all today. It was one where the prince or princess would come across the witch for the first time; this was a powerful and somewhat challenging scene, as the actor needed to portray multiple emotions at once while still keeping themselves under a neutral mask.

A minute passed, and then two, and then maybe even three. I had no idea. But, what I did know for sure, was that her acting was out of this world.

From what she’d put forth so far, it looked like she’d barely broken a sweat. Her voice was perfect and her control on her emotions was even better. She wasn’t overconfident, but calm. She was a force to be reckoned with on that stage, and it was equally empowering and terrifying. She had so much power, so much passion, so much potential...

She had everything we were looking for in this role.

Olson leaned over with wide eyes. “Wow. I...would like to believe we just found our princess.”

I couldn’t help but smile when the response left my mouth. “Absolutely.”

Then, the sudden horror dawned on me.

Princess. Charlotte...was princess.

*

*

It’d only been about ten minutes after she left the stage with a polite bow and dazzling smile that the entire auditorium started to empty out. Only a few stragglers were talking by the stage or the exits.

One of them in particular smiled and sped over to me.

“Ajay,” Charlotte grinned, “hi.”

“Charlotte,” I responded, “how’re you?”

She puffed out her rosy cheeks before letting the air out in a long sigh.

“So tired,” She was lightly laughing now. It was a little out of place, but it was cute. “Since I just decided to audition a few days ago, I’ve been pulling all-nighters with Leila to get my lines right.”

I feigned a smile and let a white lie slip through my teeth. “I’m glad you decided to audition.”

“Me too. I’m excited to see your directing skills in action,” She said this with a wink, “because it’s all I ever hear about from Rory.”

“Really?” Why does he talk about my directing...?

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “He gushes about how great of a director you are, like, all the time. You really haven’t heard any of this?”

I gave her a deadpan look, and she huffed out a laugh.

“Well, you should ask him about it. I’m sure he’d gladly tell you about how amazing you are,” she said thoughtfully, “he looks up to you, you know. It’s easy to see by the way he talks about you.”

I can’t imagine why...

“That’s surpris--” Before I could get through my sentence, I watched Charlotte stumble forward into me. Everything felt like it’d been in slow motion; her eyes widening slowly as her arms opened to hold onto me. Without another thought, mine did the same, wrapping around her small form carefully.

“Whoa!” Charlotte gasped with her arms tight around my torso and cheek pressed against my chest. I felt my heart start to pound, so I started worrying she could feel it thumping against her cheek.

The sound of laughter could be heard behind her, and when I looked up, I caught a glimpse of Danielle and a few others sauntering away. I glared at their backs, my grip on Charlotte tightening by a fraction.

Danielle better keep to herself from now on, because if that happens again--

The thought made a snarl appear on my face, and I quickly shook it away.

“You okay?” I asked, instantly feeling her rapid nod against my chest. I expected her to move...but she didn’t.

“Y-Yeah, just caught off-guard, um, I’m good.” Her voice sounded panicked. She pulled away from me slowly, looking up into my eyes with a deep red blush. “Thanks for not letting me fall.”

“Well, you didn’t really give me a choice.” I teased, watching her eyes widen for a second before she looked away.

“Right. Well. Uh, I should probably get going. I already have a ton of homework,” she hummed, smiling once more, “I’ll see you...sometime this week?”

I nodded, returning her smile. My heart felt like it was floating.

“Of course. Good night, Charlotte.”

“G’night,” She smiled and waved, awkwardly walking out the door. This whole goodbye thing felt like the new normal - that is, watching her run off while I stay glued to my spot, still living in the previous moment and imagining her eyes, her voice, her smile--

“Ajay! C’mon, man,” Rory shouted from the stage, “let’s go get dinner before we starve.”

It was like I snapped from a daze when I blinked.

The effect she had on me was maddening, but I realized I couldn’t get enough of it. Everything about her was just so frustratingly perfect--

“I’m in the mood for some absurdly overpriced pizza,” I said abruptly, walking with Rory out into the cool September night air. He laughed, nodding in agreement.

“Ohhhh, me too!”

I could swear the scent of her perfume drifted along in the breeze, but that was probably just my mind playing tricks on me.

*

*

It was hard to fall asleep that night. Maybe...maybe greasy pizza wasn’t the best idea.

I kept flipping over, hoping to find that one magical position and miraculously succumb to sleep.

But I just couldn’t get her out of my head.

This shouldn’t even be happening. Why did I let this happen? She was definitely involved with the show now. My rule still applies to me!

But...Charlotte. Sweet, kind, talented Charlotte.

Ug. The temptation to scream into my pillow was terrifyingly high.

For the love of...

Then, a thought. With a blink, I reached over to grab my glasses and a pen. After I turned my phone’s flashlight on, the feeling of a leather book from underneath my pillow brushed against my fingers. At the feeling, I sighed.

*

*

September 17th, 2020

Dear Diary...

Why does life have to be so complicated?

*

*

It wasn’t anything extensive, but my brain felt tired after writing all of that. So...short entry it was. Oh, did I sign it?

Too late. It was already closed.

I still felt like I was going to explode, but it was less severe than before. Progress. Maybe I could fall asleep now.

When I put everything back and folded my glasses, my head dreadfully hit the pillow with a soft thud. To make matters even better, I thought about her audition. How it was breathtakingly powerful and absolutely stunning. About how her voice was perfect for the part. About how...

It’s going to be a long night.

[tbhwhocaresanymore]

Nancy Drew 2x5

It’s official everybody: love conquers all

Okay WOW I cannot believe this was the original Nancy Drew season finale and that I had to wait an additional eleven months to see this episode I am suing the coronavirus for emotional distress. Because let me tell you this was one of the best season finales I have seen in a WHILE. And once again the writers have swaddled me in a safety blank and assuaged all of my concerns. I was a little worried when they made Odette a wlw because then that meant a lesbian was hunting down the good guys and would have to be killed, but MORE THE FOOL WAS I. I should have learned by now not to doubt the Nancy Drew writers.

Every single plot thread was wrapped up and a whole host of new ones were set up and I cannot wait to dive into all of them.

First off I would like to say that everything about the scenes with the Aglaeca coming to kill them was perfection. The five-way phone call, the deathbed confessions, the soft French singing and ominous chain rattling. And then when she APPEARED on the hood of the car like Dead Lucy appeared to Nancy on top of her car to tell her to summon the Aglaeca aaaah parallels and Nick and George held each other. “oh where is she, where is she” SHE’S RIGHT BEHIND YOU! The fire leaping out at Bess, the meat hook cutting Ace, Nancy falling from the bluffs. And then the crew reconnects back at the Claw thinking all is well but OH NO WHAT’S THIS ANOTHER PORTENT.

Hey how is it the entire gang seems to have forgotten that they willingly volunteered for this whole Aglaeca mess. Like I get it, your lives are on the line, you’re scared, but Nancy was all “no I cannot let you guys summon the Aglaeca with me it’s far too dangerous absolutely not” and they were all “psh danger fuck danger we have the power of friendship” and went right on ahead. And now that they have to face actual consequences they’re all “Nancy I cannot believe you put a gun to our heads and forced us into this how dare you” like GUYS. But yeah that scene caused me pain, with them all yelling at each other. I do think it’s interesting that proverbial lines in the sand have been drawn. Generally speaking whenever there are massive disagreements I’ll be watching to see if it stays as George and Nick v Bess and Ace with Nancy as the sort of swing vote.

Also because I am a Drewson shipper until I die it was satisfying to see that Nick, despite being in love with George, still has unresolved feelings about what went down with him and Nancy. We love unresolved feelings, and once Nancy learns how to communicate and be more open they will find their way back to each other and be even more in love.

The writers continue their never ending tally of taking seemingly unimportant moments from past episodes and making them SO IMPORTANT. NANCY HAVING THE PORTENT IN RYAN’S CAR??? *SCREEEEAAAAAAMS* And then speaking of the car. Oh my god you guys. Ryan and Carson the dad duo was peak comedy. I was legit dying. On the topic of parental figures

Hannah Gruen: Nancy no!

Nancy Drew: Nancy yes!

BABE. SHE LITERALLY TOLD YOU NOT TO OPEN THE DEATH BOXES AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN WAIT LIKE SIX HOURS BEFORE BLATANTLY DISOBEYING.

I know some people who watched the episode are probably going to be like “are you kidding me they beat the angry sea spirit with the power of love? Ugh pathetic” but no actually you’re wrong and it was BEAUTIFUL. Not just the concept but the execution. The lights going out one by one, the Aglaeca popping up and screaming, throwing them across the room one at a time, the words having to come from the heart, Nick speaking French he can speak French to me all day long, the Aglaeca melting and Odette rising once more. BRUH.

And then of course the blood bucket curse came to fruition and George fucking died and I was losing my mind only for Nancy to fucking revive her because THAT won't have consequences. And George talking about her sisters was so sweet I thought it might give me a cavity, and her with them in the morning. Quick question though. We know Victoria is around because she gave them the inhuman sea spirit banishing ritual like five days ago, soooo where is she now? Like George is about to die and she hardly gives her mom a spare thought aside from making sure Jessie will be able to take care of their sisters. Nancy had a fucking beautiful moment of reconciliation with Carson, couldn’t George have at least exchanged some kind words with her own mother?

Moving ahead we have sooo many plot lines to talk about I can’t wait.

The Bobbsey twins are coming back. Don’t know how I feel about that yet.

We have Ace with the sibling in Witsec. Now I know like the entire fandom wants Ace to be a Hardy brother, but here’s the thing. Ace has apparently never met this person and his dad doesn’t have any of that tortured ‘I’m-missing-my-child’ vibe going on, so I’m thinking maybe it’s Ace’s half-sibling. Like he’s half a Hardy. Cause also why would just the one kid go into Witsec and not the whole family? Maybe his mom had a baby as a teenager and gave them up for adoption, maybe his dad had an affair and didn’t realize it ended up as a pregnancy. Who’s to say???

We have Nick and Ryan (and possibly Nancy) taking down the Hudson empire. Nick is going to commit to honoring Tiffany’s dying wish and with Ryan as his man on the inside, he can hopefully actually do it. Nancy will probably also have a role in this storyline, because as evidenced by Ryan taking the flash drive she’s going to be the driving force behind Ryan listening to his conscience. And then of course we will have Nancy’s whole my-DNA-is-evil struggle, and her wanting to prove she’s not a bad person. Separate from the Hudsons (potentially) Nancy will also be working for her father this season as he regrows his law practice, and it will be so nice to see them finally have a good relationship again.

We have The Possession of George 2: Electric Boogaloo. This possession, if that’s even what it is, is very clearly different from the last one with Tiffany. George is still in control, and she’s not switching back and forth between herself and Tiffany like last time, she just has some new personality traits or whatever. The next episode summary includes Nick being concerned about George’s behavior, so I’m guessing some of the changes will be pretty obvious. But it probably isn’t something that’ll be fixed right away it’ll take a while. And I also don’t think Odette possessed her on purpose? Like she had given up the Aglaeca and seemed ready to move on, and then we see her in the mirror. Maybe there’s something she has to do regarding her girlfriend, like she has to find the Englishwoman’s ghost? Because the public story is Odette got married on the ship and died, what if her lady love thinks Odette forsook her or something and Odette wants to make it right? Last but not least I have said it before I’m saying it again I want George to develop psychic powers like her mother. Come on writers she’s not even cousins with Bess at least give me this.

Bess is going to try and stop stealing and some other stuff I’m sure and maybe learn about Marvin family skeletons and hopefully start dating Amaya??? Pleeeease???

We still have no idea what Det. Tamura’s purpose here is and I for one continue to want McGinnis back.

And then of course we have like fifty million horrors that Nancy just unwittingly unleashed on the previously sleepy town of Horseshoe Bay, and I absolutely cannot wait to see where that goes.

Hmm yeah that seems just about everything, except for I feel like there’s something I’m missing, something I'm forgetting, something important that’s slipped my mind. Oh, that’s right.

WRITERS.

WHERE THE FUCK IS LUCY SABLE.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

My Just Dance Playlist and who I would battle against / team up with in order to remain the champ

Hey lovelies so I— like usual— am procrastinating so I have decided— at the behest of literally no one— to extensively go through my workout Just Dance Playlist and explain in depth who I would 1 v 1 against, why I would pick them, and why I would— most likely— win.

PSA: This will be very biased and will literally be me bragging about how I would win at Just Dance every time with very little factual proof (because, really, how am I getting this proof?) and then literally me being self absorbed for the entirety of this essay length post— a girl’s gotta’ self care you know?

This is also lowkey practice for a fic I’ll be putting out at the start of Dinner at Dizzy’s so stay tuned it’ll be a fun one

Sorry in advance for the 2.4k essay of me being self obsessed

Also the links are just vids of the choreo in case you’re invested

Into The Unknown | Idina Menzel

This is a warm up song— like if I don’t do this one to stretch I’ll literally die— but definitely Wanda because we’re both soft (don’t fight me on this— I just know she’s a soft girl and would LOVE Just Dance). I don’t think I would aim to win on this one— I like her too much and, again, this is a warm up. She would definitely sing along with me too. If Sam was in a good mood he would also join in on this one— he has two nephews and is fun as fuck so I do not doubt he knows all the words and would be all in. Honestly this song is a warm up so anyone could join and I wouldn’t aim to win— unless it was Tony— because the man’s ego is perhaps the only one bigger than mine— or Steve— because I don’t know why I just think it would be cute to watch the man fumble because he 100% can’t dance beyond the slow dances.

Let It Go | Idina Menzel

Okay so another warm up (yes, I need two warm ups) so again the same principles apply. Again Wanda would be all over this one and I would go as far as to say Pietro— fuck off he is an Avenger and in my head he’s still very much alive— would join in too because he’s like a puppy. I would make Bucky do it too— cue the pout because he would try to say no and nope, no sir, you’re playing— because, uh hello, super soldier dancing to Disney songs. I think I would pull Nat in too because she needs a little push and once she’s in she’d be fully in— and, duh, I want a sexy woman assassin to dance with me.

Bad Romance | Lady Gaga

This isn’t my favorite song but— lucky for me— it’s a group song with three dancers so it won’t make me look bad right away. I would pull my sexy girl gang and get Nat and Wanda in on the action. I feel like Nat would be in the front— because, again, hello sexy— and not to mention that I feel like her skills would make her able to easily adapt to the moves— and then Wanda and I would just be chilling in the back, giggling and being cute. This is Nat’s moment— can you tell I only get competitive against the men? Fuck trying to beat Nat, I’m using this time to absorb the sexiness— I will be needing it for later on in this playlist.

Hot N Cold | Katy Perry

OKAY THIS IS ARGUABLY MY FAVOURITE SONG ON MY PLAYLIST! This is 100% my best song. Like “perfects” across the board every single time. I have it memorized and if this song ever comes on in public I’ll be fucked because I’ll have to dance to it and look dumb. Anyway— given that this is my best song— Sam. I can afford to throw him in here because— despite the fact that I know this man has literally all the moves— I have this song ingrained in the essence of my soul. It would probably be a semi-close race but I have the added bonus of knowing the tricks of the choreography. He may be skilled but I am obsessive and have poured hours into this song. I would probably laugh when he loses because of the adrenaline (again, it was close, my heart would be pounding). This is dirty and strategic but this is about me winning and nothing else. Better luck next time babes— rematch anytime.

Girlfriend | Avril Lavigne

MY THIRD FAVOURITE SONG— JUST LIKE BEFORE THIS IS IN MY SOUL! I have actually spent a lot of time thinking about this. I could use this song to knock out a more skilled dancer— Tony, Sam (again), Pietro (you know I’m right)— but I have made the executive decision to pull Steve in on this one. Clearly it has nothing to do with skillful planning on this one— I would 110% win this game— but rather it has everything to do with the fact that I want to look this man in the eye and mouth “Hell yeah, I'm the motherfucking princess” and watch him get flustered and maybe tell me not to swear. Clint would laugh and that’s more than enough motivation for me. I also want to giggle and stare at the super soldier the entire time because I can hit the moves with my eyes closed and he would be flicking his eyes between the screen and me wondering how on EARTH I got so good at this. SO CUTE!

California Gurls | Katy Perry

THIS IS THE ONE THAT IS TIED WITH HOT N’ COLD FOR FIRST! I’m good good at this one. I grew up on Snoop Dogg and I fully believe that is why I am so good at this song. Anyway Pietro— without a doubt in my mind Pietro would kill this song (or in the very least try to kill it) and I’m not worried about losing because of the sheer amount of gameplay I have on this song alone. He would have the most fun with me and it would be the literal time of my life. Like I might actually lose this one just to see him get all happy and puppy-like about winning— LOL just kidding no I wouldn’t, sorry peanut better luck next time. You killed the hip wiggles though!

Forget You | CeeLo Green

Okay this one might not make any sense but Bucky. This is a hard-ish song but I think some of the moves really scream like old-timey and I think— if he could get rid of his pride for five seconds and let some of the fun-loving, silly Bucky out— that he would really enjoy this song. It’s fast paced but repetitive, the lyrics are fun, and I would be laughing enough for the both of us that he wouldn’t think about how dumb he looks because I’d be looking doubley stupid. Don’t let that fool you— I am a whiz at this song too. There’s a lot of jumping and spinning and jump spinning that entice that perfectionist side of me in a way that has driven me to perfect this song. This isn’t a heavily strategic move— it doesn’t need to be, he, again, hasn’t danced in years— but it is fun while allowing me to still win. NEXT!

Waterloo | ABBA

Okay two teams here, this is where it gets fun. This could go in a lot of directions. If Tony isn’t there then I would pull Nat— the gameplay is easy and she would pick it up within seconds. I would then pair up Steve and Thor because they’re both huge and clunky and would spend the entire time bumping into each other. Dirty but I’m doing it without regret. NOW— If Tony was there then we’re teaming up. I don’t trust him to not be on a team with me because he’s too competitive. I won’t risk it, not today, not ever— we’re eternal dance partners because I refuse to be bested by a man. Even a sexy, silver fox millionaire. The other team would be Sam and Bucky. They would fight the entire time. I can hear it now— “That was the wrong move, dumbass.” “You stepped on my foot, asshole.” — it’s a virtually flawless game plan. There’s a 1% chance they would team up to win against me but even then Bucky hasn’t danced since the 30’s. Foolproof.

Just Dance | Lady Gaga

I am AWFUL at this one but luckily it’s a group dance again. If I had to choose any song to take a break for— because I’ve literally just whooped Avenger butt at this point and deserve five minutes to sit down— it would be this one. This is 100% a strategic move. Love you miss Gaga but the choreography is WACK and I will not be losing. Anyway I will be nominating Tony, Pietro, and Sam— a dance battle of epic proportions and I honestly cannot tell you who I think would win. I can, however, speculate. Sam right off the bat would be a hard player to beat. I said it before and I will reiterate now— Sam Wilson has all the moves. But, that being said, Tony would not want to lose. Like at all. So I am pushed to believe that this fight would be a tough battle. Pietro I don’t think would try too hard to win but, then again, I just pitted him against Tony and, well, we all know how that goes. He has an ego too so honestly it could go in any direction. Pietro might be soft with me but against Sam and Tony— this fight might get dirty. Camera’s out people!

Gimme! Gimme! | ABBA

Thor. Like— there’s just no other person that I want to disco with. None. I want the blonde god up there next to me or nobody. Well, besides Steve because LOL yeah he’s not winning that sorry pumpkin we’ve already covered that. Thor I could simultaneously beat and laugh my ass off with. It’s a lot of tricky moves— ABBA didn’t come to play— and way too much variety for him to be able to catch on right away but he would also not care about looking like an idiot and might end up just picking me up and spinning me around because why not right? I would win and be happy.

Starships | Nicki Minaj

This is pure strategy— Tony. This is the only one I could beat him at because of the sheer amount of moves and plot twists in the choreography. There’s a lot of jumping, spinning, kicking movements and if you haven’t had two months to memorize it then you’ll be fucked. Even then it’s a long shot because— AGAIN THE EGO DRIVES THIS MAN TO HEIGHTS I HAVE YET TO SEE ANYWHERE ELSE— but it’s my best bet. If I could blindside him enough with the hip wiggling then it would be a sure win but he might see through the strategy. He’s smart— too smart. I would fight dirty— I don’t lose. Now, if Tony— again— was not present then I would pull my baby Wanda for this one because she would have so much fun and it would be 1000% worth it. Literally my ray of sunshine— let’s do fun girl things like dance to Nikci like the entire team isn’t watching. Clint and Sam would be singing along— that’s canon. Nat would be filming and cheering. The super soldiers, iron boy (assuming he’s sitting this one out), the fast one, and the gods would be slack jawed. It doesn’t get better

Maneater | Nelly Furtado

I can’t even explain how long I’ve had the plan for this one. Too long. Remember the sexiness I was talking about? Yeah— here’s where I’m gonna’ need it. This is ALSO one of my favourite songs on this playlist because of how sexy I feel dancing to it. The moves are *chefs kiss* so fucking amazing I could cry. I feel like a maneater when I dance to this and that is a blessed feeling. Anyway— I will be pulling two people for this song and those people are Clint and Nat. I think Clint— contrary to popular belief— is secure enough to have fun dancing to this and, also, not to mention the most important part— whoever wins gets to take me on a date. The big guns. Literally it’s a foolproof plan. First, I can’t lose because this choreography is hard as fuck for beginners and I have been practicing and perfecting it for months. Second, the fight between Nat and Clint would be so fucking entertaining. They’re skilled, agile, sleek assassins who would literally dance to Nelly Furado like their lives depended on it. I think what’s even funnier is that Nat is for sure the better dancer but I just know Clint is a) only a fraction less better than her and b) would be trying SO HARD to win. Like I wouldn’t put it past him to not play dirty. I am cute, after all. His 6’3” ass would be sweating trying to get my 5’2” ass on that date.

Good Feeling | Flo Rida

Clint, baby, knowing full well you could have possibly just lost the last round to Nat, I will give you one more chance— mainly because this whole song is a vibe and the choreography is so much fun and there’s a handful of moves that I both want to do in sync with you but also want to laugh watching as you flounder them. Clearly as a stealthy archer assassin I am testing my luck with this one but he just doesn’t know the in depth ins and outs of this choreo. He doesn’t know about the like seventeen hundred bridges that this song has and the robot moves in the middle. So I’ll wrack up those extra points where needed. Honestly if you only click one link make it this one— I can’t describe how fun this would be with him. Competitive but fun. I have faith in myself that I would come out on top. He’s agile but I’d risk it all for the title of champion. Still, he would fight hard— that’s why I love him though.

How Far I’ll Go | Auli’i Cravalho

This is my cool down song but there’s someone here who has managed to hide his way into not playing and that is unacceptable— Loki, babe, you’re doing my relaxing song with me because the gods only know how much you need a break. I’ll look dumb because— believe it or not— the slow song trips me up the most. But it’s fun and it’s the reason I don’t have a heart attack when my chubby ass is done all the fast songs— so it’s necessary. It’s also slow enough that he won’t look dumb and thus won’t literally kill me because he won’t be embarassed. I would willingly lose to Loki because I don’t want to lose my life. It isn’t a loss— it’s survival. That and I think he’d smile if he got a good score and that alone is worth losing to this one (1) man. I also want to add that I think Clint would secretly love this one because you can’t tell me that a man with an aim as good as him doesn’t meditate. He does and he would perhaps beat Loki at this one. Rest in peace to the love of my life when the trickster god literally tears his head from his body but sometimes you’ve got to take the L baby.

[kawaiikichi]

Were We? (Saiou Week Day 7)

@saiouweek

Surprise, surprise, I actually managed to write something for Saiou Week! I feel like it could also fall under the prompt “Past Life” for Day 2 but because the past life in this references to them during the killing game and their present life is something completely different, I decided to just post it under free day.

I hope you all like it! :D

Title: Were We?

Prompt: Shuichi’s Birthday or Free Day

Summary: Shuichi has spent over three hundred years as a Grim Reaper, roaming the streets of Tokyo and leading deceased souls to the afterlife. One day, he runs into a purple-haired male whom he has seen in his dreams and it makes him feel emotions he hasn’t felt in god knows how long.

One-Shot Notes: Inspired by the Kdrama Goblin with Shuichi as the Grim Reaper and Kokichi as Sunny; their past life is them in the killing game while their present life is with Shuichi as the grim reaper and Kokichi as a human

Warnings: A sprinkling of angst, NDRV3 spoilers; read at your own risk!

Read on under the cut!

Shuichi walked along the sidewalk, the crisp autumn breeze ruffling his black hair and making his long, black trench coat flutter with each step he took. He stuffed his leather glove-clad hands into his pockets, hoping to warm them as he walked to his destination.

He had no souls to collect and take back to his tea shop until the afternoon, so he decided to take a walk and get himself some coffee before heading to the first accident that was supposed to take place. He also wanted to get away from Rantaro, the immortal goblin that he’s been rooming with as of late. His singing was obnoxious, anyway.

Upon arriving at the coffee shop he frequented, he was met with the warm and comforting smell of baked sweets and freshly brewed coffee. The barista at the counter greeted him, a wide smile on his face. Shuichi greeted him in response as he grabbed for an empty medium-sized cup.

“Americano with no sugar and no cream, correct?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’s correct. You know me well, Naegi-kun.” Shuichi told him.

“Well, you come here so often that I know your order by now!” Makoto slid a small plate with a cream cheese danish on it across the counter. “Here’s your danish as well, Saihara-kun.” he said.

“Thank you.” Shuichi replied.

After paying, he went to sit at the window bar. He nibbled on his danish as he watched passerbys walk the streets. He let his mind wander, and just like it usually did, it went to a male whose face he was unable to see.

Recently, Shuichi has been having dreams involving him. They always took place in what the grim reaper assumed to be a school, but it gave off prison vibes and it rubbed Shuichi the wrong way. But what happened between him and the male in that prison-esque school building could only be summarized as eventful and fun.

The male seemed to be a pain in the ass at times, lying all the time and pulling pranks on other people that were at the school, but the times they spent together were nice. They played games in the dining hall, hid away together in the casino, and read books in the basement library until they fell asleep on each other, blankets wrapped around each other with the male’s head on his shoulder and his head resting against the male’s.

These dreams were filled with happiness and love confessions whispered against each other’s lips as they pressed against each on the couch in the AV room, the film they were watching long forgotten. The Shuichi in those dreams was overjoyed and he looked at the male in his arms with love, which confused the grim reaper when he woke up from that particular dream.

Never in his three hundred years of life had he felt such an emotion so raw and passionate.

Fueled by his curiosity, he looked forward to these dreams. He wondered about how the Shuichi in his dreams interacted with this male he was dating and if these two were able to get out of the school that held them captive and away from the black and white robotic bear that played them like a fiddle in this killing game they were thrown into, living happily ever after.

But what the grim reaper dreamed of last night was anything but nice. In fact, it resembled a nightmare. Everything was smeared in darkness and steeped in the pungent, coppery scent of blood. There was mourning over the execution of a guy named Gonta, whose heart was made of gold and who wouldn’t dare hurt a fly (literally). There was screaming, shouting, tears, and words that pierced through the heart like sharpened blades and spilled blood everywhere without mercy, the dream eventually ending with images of a bloodied hydraulic press.

The way the dream ended last night unsettled Shuichi. Those images were still fresh in his mind as he took a sip from his Americano. Bitterness coated his taste buds, but it wasn’t the pleasant kind that he was accustomed to. Instead, it made his nose crinkle and his body tense from the intensity of it.

He didn’t bother finishing this coffee this time and wolfed down his danish before heading out, hoping that the subtle sweetness would overpower the bitterness that lingered in his mouth.

He eventually found himself strolling along a bridge, which seemed unusually quiet for a Monday morning. Well, save for a nearby jewelry booth that he spotted out of the corner. His eyebrow twitched.

Is that even allowed? he asked himself.

He shook his head, clicking his teeth before sighing.

“Whatever. It doesn’t concern me.” he said.

He started to walk past the booth when the owner of the booth called out to him.

“Hey, Mister Handsome in Black!” a chirpy voice called out.

Shuichi came to a stop, wanting nothing more than to tap on his watch and disappear from her sight.

Can’t anybody let me be in peace today? he wondered to himself.

He shot a glance at the owner, who turned out to be a girl in her twenties with wavy black hair and sparkling amber eyes. Her red lips pulled upward into a smile.

“Are you in need of some new accessories?” she asked.

Shuichi turned his body more, lowering his gaze to the sparkling jewelry and then up to the girl, who continued to beam at him.

“These kinds of accessories aren’t my style.” he told her.

Besides, you can tell at first glance that they’re cheap ripoffs of the real thing, his mind supplied for him.

This only made her giggle.

“Oh, no worries! Then, you could get one for your girlfriend. I’m sure it’ll please her very much.” she said.

“I don’t swing that way.” Shuichi told her.

She blinked her eyes, shooting him a dumbfounded look as he continued.

“I have a preference for guys, so buying something for a so-called girlfriend would be pointless.” he told her.

“I see...well, maybe your boyfriend would like something from here!” she said.

Shuichi got ready to tell her that he didn’t have a boyfriend, but she was already reaching for a purple rope bracelet with a simple puzzle piece charm on it.

“Here, you could buy this. It’s simple, but quite cute.” she told him.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.” he said.

She puffed her cheeks out.

“Come on! It doesn’t even cost that much. I’m sure you could give me a couple yen.” she said, growing more persistent with each word she spoke.

“Really, I’m fine! I don’t want to buy anything—“ he stopped, gold eyes landing on a checkered scarf.

It was just a simple checkered scarf and yet, Shuichi felt a tug in his heart. It was like the scarf was calling his name, begging for him to pick it up and buy it.

His hand started moving on its own before he could stop it. It inches further and further towards the checkered fabric, the tug at his heart growing stronger. His finger brushed along it as another hand appeared in his vision, snatching the scarf up and abruptly snapping him out of whatever trance he had fallen under.

“Oooh, this looks cute! This is totally my style. How much is it?”

Shuichi blinked, looking to his right and locking on a male wispy purple hair that stuck out in all directions. He was shorter than him, making him about five foot one, if he had to guess. The male wore a black and white sawtooth pattern coat with dark denim skinny jeans and black ankle boots.

Almost as if the male knew he was being watched, he turned away from the girl running the booth and locked eyes with Shuichi. The grim reaper felt the wind being knocked out of him the minute it happened. The male’s eyes were a deep shade of purple that sparkled like precious gems in the morning light.

Then, it happened.

Snippets from the dreams he’d been having came slamming into him like a truck, accompanied by a chirpy voice.

“Saihara-chan, let’s play a game!”

“Nishishi! It was just a lie. Or was I lying about that being a lie? The world may never know!”

“I...like you too, Saihara-chan.”

“Ew, I don’t think I can understand why you like black coffee so much.”

“Come oooooooon, Saihara-chan! You promised we’d go swimming!”

“Saihara-chan!”

“Saihara-chan!”

“Saihara-chan...I’m sorry.”

“...I’ll always love you, Saihara-chan.”

Before Shuichi could process what was happening, a single tear trailed down his cheek. He could only stare at the male with a dumbfounded look on his face.

The male peered at Shuichi curiously, brows furrowed and lips pursed.

“Why are you watching me like that? I saw this first.” he waved the scarf around. “You hear me? I saw it first. First!” he shouted.

However, Shuichi didn’t respond. The male arched a brow as he continued to look Shuichi up and down.

“Wait a minute...are you crying?” he leaned in closer. “Oh shit, you are.” he said.

Minty breath tickled his lips and the minute Shuichi realized how close his face was, he immediately jerked back like he burned himself.

“H-Huh?” he stammered out.

“You were crying just now.” the male pointed out.

“What? I wasn’t—“ Shuichi reached up to touch his cheek and immediately felt the wet tear trail on it.

He dabbed at it in surprise. He couldn’t remember the last time he shed a tear, let alone if he actually did during the amount of time he’s been alive. Just what the heck was going on?

The male continued to eye him.

“Do you want it? The scarf, that is. I wanted to buy it because it looked neat, but if you want it…” he murmured.

“Uh...I…” Shuichi trailed off.

“Hm? Are you speechless? Is it because I’m so drop dead gorgeous that you can’t say anything?” the male teased.

“Wha…?!” Shuichi gawked at him in shock, cheeks flushing red.

“Nishishi! Aw, you’re adorable when you’re flustered! It makes me want to kiss you.” the male said.

The blush on Shuichi’s cheeks deepened, which only made him giggle more.

“But seriously, do you want it? Because if you do, I’m not gonna give it to you for free.” the male held his hand out to him. “Give me your number.” he said.

“My...number?” Shuichi questioned.

“Yeah? I’m going to need to contact you in regards to this scarf, you know.”

“I don’t have one.”

The male blinked twice.

“Wait. You’re telling me you don’t have a phone?” he asked.

“I don’t have one.” Shuichi replied.

“Why not?”

“I don’t need one, that’s why.”

“How could you not need one? We live in the twenty-first century! Of course you need a cell phone!”

“I just don’t see why I need to have one.”

“Because…!” the male heaved a deep sigh. “Okay, I can’t be doing this right now. I guess that means this scarf will be mine.” he said.

He moved to tie the scarf around his neck, but Shuichi spoke, effectively stopping him.

“W-Wait! Set the scarf down. Write your number down and place it there with the scarf. I’ll call you.” he proposed.

“Weeeeeeell…” he proceeded to twirl some hair around his finger. “We should at least exchange names if that’s how you wanna do it.” he said.

“Okay...well, my name’s Saihara. Saihara Shuichi.” Shuichi told him.

“Saihara-chan? I’ll make sure to remember that, then. I’m Ouma. Ouma Kokichi.” Kokichi introduced.

He reached his hand out for Shuichi to shake. The grim reaper could only stare down at the hand quizzically before redirecting his gaze to Kokichi’s. The purple-haired male watched him expectantly, waiting for Shuichi to shake it.

“If you don’t want to shake it, then that’s fine.” Kokichi turned back to the booth owner. “You said it was thirteen hundred yen, right? I’ll take it.” he said.

He began to fish through his pocket, mumbling to himself about where he put his wallet. Shuichi sighed, reaching into his trench coat and pulling out his wallet. Flipping it open, he pulled out a few bills and handed it to the booth owner.

“Here, I’ll pay for it.” he said.

Kokichi gaped at him in surprise.

“Wait! Saihara-chan, I can pay for it—“

“I already gave her the money. Just let it be.”

The purple-haired male pouted as the girl giggled.

“Aw, how sweet! By the way…” she leaned in closer to Shuichi, which startled him a little. “This scarf costs way more than thirteen hundred yen. The cost for it is...quite hefty, if I do say so myself.” she whispered lowly.

“How much does it cost, then?” Shuichi asked.

“Hm...maybe someone’s memories?” she hummed out in response.

Shuichi eyed her warily, but she only smiled at him brightly as she accepted the money from him. He sighed, withdrawing from her as Kokichi spoke.

“Well, since you bought it, I guess I should let you have it for now.” he handed the scarf to Shuichi along with a slip of paper. “And here’s my number.” he said.

Shuichi took the scarf and paper from Kokichi, examining them. As he did, Kokichi continued to eye him. Upon feeling the set of eyes on him, he glanced back at Kokichi.

“Yes?” he said.

“You know...the more I look at you, the more I feel like I’ve seen you before.” Kokichi commented.

Shuichi’s eyes widened in surprise as Kokichi leaned in towards him, purple eyes scanning him.

“I wonder...were we lovers in a past life or something?” he mused aloud.

“Were we...what?” he questioned, wondering if he heard him correctly.

“Lovers. Maybe we were lovers in a past life.”

“Were we?”

Kokichi shrugged.

“The world may never know.” the sound of a phone ringing reached their ears. “Ah, that’s mine. I’m going to need to go now.” Kokichi said.

He pulled away from Shuichi and began to walk past him.

“I’ll be waiting for your call, my beloved Saihara-chan!” he called out over his shoulder.

“My beloved…?!” Shuichi squeaked as he turned, watching Kokichi wave his hand as he headed down the steps and disappeared from his sight.

Shuichi sighed deeply.

“That was...interesting.” he murmured.

He looked down at the scarf, running a thumb along the fabric before focusing on the piece of paper that had Kokichi’s number on it along with his name and a quick doodle of himself. As he continued to stare at the two items, Kokichi’s question rang in his mind.

“I wonder...were we lovers in a past life or something?”

The bits and pieces from his dreams resurfaced as he thought back on them. This time, the mystery male had wispy purple hair, purple eyes, and a mischievous smile. He gripped the scarf tighter.

He couldn’t help but wonder if these dreams he was having were merely dreams or if they were something. Maybe they were pieces of his memory from his past life that he was told that he shouldn’t remember at all costs.

But if it were indeed those memories that stayed buried within him, locked in Pandora’s box...then Kokichi might be onto something.

[ginny-rose-sixx]

Panic! At The Airport

Summary: You and Axl are going to visit your family. You flew out one week earlier by yourself so that you could have time with just your twin sisters. Now you are going to pick Axl up at the airport.

Pairing: Axl Rose x Gender Neutral Reader

Words: 2083

Warnings: graphic depiction of a panic attack, swearing

*Edited March 6th 2021* I adjusted things here and there to change this so that it was a gender neutral reader.

A/N: This is not set in any particular era. Therefore, there may be some elements that seem anachronistic. Also, I have been in a slump with my main story “What the Fork?” (found on WattPad and AO3). This idea came to me at work and I just HAD to write it. It feels good to have written something.

At work I saw a meme describing panic attacks vs anxiety (at the end of the post). Then, I had been thinking about how long it has been since I have had a panic attack. I also thought of the panic attack that got me to realize that I needed to get professional help. I had to pick my boyfriend up from work. My friend was with me and when we got to the parking lot, the only open spots were handicap spaces, spaces for executives, and spaces for law enforcement. I’d had a panic attack and my friend helped me through it.

Panic attacks can be scary, and it can feel as if you’re having a heart attack. If you suffer from panic attacks and want someone to talk to, please, feel free to reach out to me any time.

  *******

 You had no idea why you chose to fly out a week earlier than Axl to spend time with just your twin sisters. The twins were bickering, the airport was packed, and the distance from Axl was weighing heavily on your mind. You were in your sister’s Prius trying to find a space to park and Axl’s flight was supposed to be touching down in 20 minutes.

It was too early to pull up to the doors where passengers exit, and the waiting lot was full. The only open space that you could see was a handicap space. As cars piled up behind you, panic started to rise. Your skin felt tingly and as if bugs were crawling all over you. As you drove in circles your body started to tense up. A sharp, stabbing pain suddenly came in your right shoulder where it met your neck. You paused for a moment and checked the pockets of your discarded coat for your Xanax but only found an empty bottle. *Fuck, the extra bottle is in my suitcase.* Then you looked at your smart watch and saw that the heart rate monitor app showed your heart was beating at 138 beats per minute and it was still climbing. With your whole body tensing up, your chest was constricting. Breathing was getting difficult and you were starting to hyperventilate. You had tears starting to fall and the panic was rapidly increasing.

 Then, thankfully, a car in front of you pulled out. You focused on just getting into the space. Without bothering to park the car you hit the power button. The car stopped and automatically parked. The feeling of panic was not gone yet. You looked at your watch and saw that you were now at 151 bpm. When you noticed the time, a choked sob ripped from your throat. Axl’s plane would touch down in mere minutes.

 When you saw the cars backed up behind you, you realized there was no way you could leave the space. Panic then snapped and flashed through every fiber of your being. You were suddenly slammed with an increase in your symptoms: throat constricting, hyperventilation, sobbing, nausea, chills, and paranoia.

 Feeling confined and trapped by the steering wheel, you scrambled into the back seat. You curled up into the fetal position and started to scratch at scabs on your legs and arms as you rocked back and forth. The sobbing and hyperventilating were making it difficult to breathe. Your thoughts were racing. *Would Axl think that you had left him? Would he think you forgot? Am I dying? Would he hate you? Why would anyone want me, let alone him? I’m having a fucking breakdown over parking spaces.* Similar thoughts kept racing through your mind. Time and the outside world held no meaning. You did not even realize that your phone was almost constantly ringing.

 *** Earlier in the plane ***

 “Please put your seats in their upright positions and fasten your seat belts. We will be beginning our descent shortly.”

 Axl was already sitting up so he fastened his seat belt. Axl took out his phone and smiled at his lock screen. The picture was one of his favorites; you were beaming down at a tiny tabby kitten that you held cradled to your chest. He opened his phone to shoot off a text to let you know that the plane was descending. He shut his screen off and put his phone in his carry-on bag.

 This past week without being able to hold you in his arms was rough. It didn’t help that you were halfway across the country from each other either. Phone calls and texts only went so far. As much as you tried to deny it, Axl knew that you were tense and something was eating at you. He was almost wondering if you were mad at him. He couldn’t think of what might have gone wrong. You had seemed so happy and care free when he dropped you off at the airport last week. He kept pushing those thoughts to the back of his head, and telling himself that everything would be fine once he laid eyes on you.

 By the time the plane landed, he was pretty keyed up by his thoughts. Axl was thankful for being in first class, because it meant he was one of the first people off of the plane. He looked around for you for a few moments, before he realized that you would have to wait by the doors for him. He grabbed his phone out of his carry-on and looked at his notifications. There was nothing except a notification from his weather app stating that it was 70°F and partly cloudy. Axl shot off a text to let you know that he was headed to the baggage claim area. He huffed and shoved his phone into his jacket pocket.

 Axl slung his carry-on over his shoulder and made sure that his hair was still hidden beneath his hat and underneath his leather jacket. He didn’t want to stick out as he made his way through the airport to the baggage claim area. Axl followed the signs and looked for the conveyor belt that his suitcase would be on. Once he got to the right conveyor belt, he pulled his phone out while he waited.

 A frown formed on Axl’s face when he saw that it had been 20 minutes since he texted that he was landing. You still had not replied. You hadn’t even read the messages. He clicked the call button and listened to it just ring and ring. Once he heard your voice mail recording, he started to get pissed. “Y/N, what the hell?! Where the fuck are you? Ugh, I’m grabbing my bag and I’ll be at the pick-up doors.” Axl growled angrily and lowly into the phone.

 Axl shoved his phone back into his jacket once he saw his suitcase. He kept his head down as he grabbed his bags and made his way to the exit. He got outside and looked every which way and there was no sign of you. He didn’t even have a clue what car you were supposed to be driving. Axl waited impatiently. He was pacing back and forth and tried to call you three times in a row. As the people and cars cleared, his anger slowly dissipated, and he started to worry. After most of the people from his flight were picked up, Axl pulled his phone up and he called one of your sisters.

 “Hey it’s Axl. Where’s Y/N? It’s been 40 minutes.” he didn’t bother with pleasantries.

 Your sister was immediately worried, “What do you mean?! Y/N left for the airport a little over an hour and a half ago. It only takes a half an hour to get there!”

 Axl’s eyes widened and he stopped in his tracks and looked around for signs of a waiting lot, “Damnit! Fuck! What kinda car did Y/N drive here?”

 “Y/N took my Prius. It’s black and has a shitload of bumper stickers on the back. You’ll know it when you-“

 Axl saw the Prius in the distance and cut your sister off, “I see it! Thanks!” He hung up without saying goodbye.

 He shoved his phone back into his jacket, grabbed his bags and ran to the car. He was worried when he could not see anyone in the car as he ran to it. Once Axl reached the car, he looked into the back seat. He dropped his bags and swore under his breath. He tried the car door and it wasn’t locked. He went to slowly open the door.

 You were curled up on your side. You were still trembling and hyperventilating. Your heart and thoughts were racing. *I shouldn’t be here. I should have stayed at home with Axl. No! No! He’s gonna be mad! I know he’s fed up with me. Hell, I’m sick of this! I need to get out of here. I need Axl. I can’t do this. I can’t.* The soft noise of the door opening seemed sudden and loud as if a gun went off. It startled you and you scrambled away from the open door and pressed yourself against the opposite door. When you saw Axl, you shouted and started to mumble “no" over and over again.

 Once Axl saw the look of pure terror on your face, his heart shattered. He had to remind himself to tread carefully.  He hadn’t ever seen you have this bad of a panic attack. Axl took a deep breath and crouched down outside of the car. He spoke slowly and softly, “Hey there angel. Can I sit in the car with you?”

 You nodded once and pressed yourself further into the far door.

 Axl sighed, “One sec angel, I’m gonna put my bags in the trunk. I’ll be right back.” When you didn’t respond he just stood up and picked his carry-on and suitcase up off of the ground. Once he had loaded his bags into the trunk, he slowly climbed into the back seat and shut the door. He saw that you had your eyes screwed shut and he thought for a moment before starting to sing softly.

 Shed a tear 'cause I'm missin' you

I'm still alright to smile

Dear, I think about you every day now

Was a time when I wasn't sure

But you set my mind at ease

There is no doubt you're in my heart now

Said "angel take it slow, and it'll work itself out fine"

All we need is just a little patience

Said "sugar make it slow and we'll come together fine"

All we need is just a little patience

 Without looking at him you reached out a hand to Axl. He paused and slowly took your hand. He leaned forward and pressed his soft lips to your palm in a sweet kiss. He laced his fingers together with yours before he continued to sing.

 You squeezed his hand and started to breathe slowly. Your breaths started out shaky as they slowed. With Axl’s hand grounding you, you focused on counting as you breathed. *In, 1, 2, 3, 4, out, 2, 3, 4* You repeated that over and over. As you controlled your breathing, you stopped trembling and your heart rate slowed.

 By the time Axl finished singing, you had sat up and were looking at him. Axl smiled widely at you and said, “Hey there angel. Do you feel a little better?”

 You looked down at your entwined hands and smiled sadly, “Ax I'm so sor-"

 Using his free hand, Axl put his fore finger to your lips to cut off your apology. “Y/N, sweetheart, once I talked to your sister, I was so worried about you. It’s a good thing that this car is so easy to spot.” He paused to take a shaky breath, “I didn’t care about the wait. I only cared about whether or not you were safe. I don’t even want to think about what I'd do if you were hurt.”

 You smiled at him sweetly and moved closer to him. “All the same, I’m still sorry about the worry that I caused. I was just so tense already from the twins arguing with each other constantly. When I got here it was packed and there were cars everywhere. I started to panic, but I forgot my extra meds in my suitcase. Luckily, a space opened up and I was able to park before the worst hit me.”

 Axl placed his free hand on your cheek and slowly ran his thumb along your cheek bone. “I wish I had been here with you angel. I missed you so much and I love you even more.”

 You closed your eyes and pressed your cheek into his warm touch. You smiled and hummed happily.

 A smile spread slowly across Axl’s face. His eyes fell to your lips and he started to lean in slowly. As his face got closer to yours, he could smell the faint strawberry scent of your shampoo. His eyes fell shut just before he pressed his lips softly to yours.

 You let out a soft squeak when you felt Axl’s soft lips against yours. As your lips moved together, the spice of his cologne and the faint scent of leather filled your nostrils. Warmth finally spread throughout your chest.

 Finally, you were calm.

  At last, you felt at home.

[paulinedorchester]

London, July 1943: Excerpt from a work in progress

After nearly twenty minutes, Foyle decides that he might as well walk.

A cab pulls up at the entrance to the Victoria Coach Station every few minutes, but the drivers favour passengers in uniform. Difficult to resent that in wartime, but it quickly becomes clear that they’re really looking for the Americans – ready, willing and able to pay twice the normal fare. There are throngs of them in London: on leave, newly returned from North Africa, giddy with the success of the Sicily landings. Foyle keeps looking for familiar faces but sees none.

It’s barely a mile to Charles and Pamela’s place, if he recalls correctly, and it’s a fine day. After almost three hours cooped up in the coach it’ll do him good to stretch his legs. He hasn’t brought much with him and his suitcase is easy to lift. He picks it up and sets out.

Travel remains slow and uncomfortable, as it has been for the past few years. The discomfort is as much psychological as physical. Posters with such inscriptions as Must you travel? and Is your journey really necessary? are still displayed at every station, and Foyle had weathered a few cold stares from passers-by as he entered the coach stop at Hastings.

But it’s Charles and Pamela’s twentieth wedding anniversary on Saturday, and it had been kind of them to invite him. He really doesn’t feel the need for a change of scene, as they seem to feel he must, but he is curious to know what London looks and feels like with no official duties to discharge, even in the midst of the war.

And the war is everywhere he looks. Westminster has been spared neither bombing nor the depredations of the war effort. The railings have been removed from the familiar public garden he passes as he walks north along Buckingham Palace Road, and the garden has been cut up into allotments.

Buckingham Palace itself, he recalls as he makes his way past it, was hit repeatedly in 1940; it’s hardly a moldering ruin, but clearly only stopgap repairs have been carried out, the King and Queen waiting out the shortage of manpower and materials along with the rest of the country.

And as he walks across the Green Park he sees that it’s the public garden writ large: stripped of ironwork, much of the land being used to grow food.

At length – it’s a longer walk than he’d remembered, after all – he reaches Arlington Street and the drive in front of Arlington House. In 1936 Charles and Pamela had given up the fine Georgian house in Highgate that they’d taken before their son Alan was born and moved into a large flat in this mansion block, just completed at the time in the height of modern style. The move was a practical one, they had said: the place was and is an easy walk from the Admiralty, where Charles’ duties were demanding increasingly long days, and their daughter Averill’s school – now evacuated to Yorkshire – was also fairly close by.

Arlington House still stands, but it’s sandbagged and most of its metal ornament is gone. Some windows on the lower storeys, Foyle observes, have been blown out and boarded up.

‘My name is Christopher Foyle – I’m here to visit Commander and Mrs Howard,’ Foyle tells the elderly porter, who looks him up and down in an appraising way.

‘Yes, sir. They’re expecting someone by that name,’ the porter concedes, sounding a bit skeptical. At once he adds, ‘May I see your identity card, please?’

Foyle had suspected, and still suspects, that Pamela was privately relieved at the end of the Howards’ conventional existence in the suburbs. As he waits for the lift he reflects, not for the first time, that it’s hard to decide which seems more unlikely: her decision to leave her earlier life of vaguely Bohemian gentility for marriage to a Naval officer, or Charles’ choice of her as his wife.

Not that they aren’t well suited. They were both born into well-to-do families whose fortunes had been made during the previous century from the more refined aspects of trade: fine printing and engraving in the Howards’ case, textiles for the Fourniers. Pamela’s parents, though tolerant of their daughter’s artistic inclinations, had put the kibosh on her youthful ambition to become a ballet dancer.

Of age by the time the last war began, she had joined the First Aid Nursing Yeomanry, driving an ambulance between Calais and a point that was often unnervingly close to the front. After the war she’d been one of the countless women to whom marriage had seemed an unlikely prospect, if only given the small number of surviving men. Although she had no real need to earn her own living she’d found a position at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, as a Deputy Company Manager, the first woman ever to fill that role.

And then, one evening in 1922, she’d somewhat reluctantly accompanied her father to a banquet at Drapers’ Hall. There she had been seated to the left of 1st Lt Charles Howard, R.N., a junior executive officer in attendance to represent the office that supplied Naval uniforms, still a bachelor at nearly thirty-two. (Foyle has never been entirely clear about how old Pamela is.) They were married nine months later. The wedding was a spectacular business in a Regency chapel of ease in St John’s Wood; Andrew, five years old and saucer-eyed throughout his first visit to London, had been a pageboy.

The brevity of their courtship had caused some talk, according to Rosalind. Still, it was a conventionally appropriate match – but also, Foyle knows, a very happy one. Pamela found Charles bright, witty and kind as well as quite handsome. His determination to remain in the Navy – in the teeth of his family’s expectation that, as the only surviving son, he would return to civilian life and enter the family business – had struck a chord with her, even as the novelty of life as a mildly rebellious bachelor girl with a toe in the demi-monde was beginning to wear off. Charles’ sense of duty was counterbalanced, and his own long-neglected aesthetic interests reawakened, by Pamela’s creative impulses and artistic connections.

It is Pamela herself who answers the door of the flat and laughs gently when her brother-in-law is unable to conceal his surprise.

‘Jill was called up,’ she explains, ‘and there’s really no hope of replacing her. They’ve all been called up! Not to worry, though — I haven’t yet taken over the kitchen. Mrs Ellis is still with us, bless her, so we won’t starve! It’s awfully good to see you, Christopher, and I’m very glad you’ve come. It means a great deal to Charles, as it does to me.’

Rosalind and Pamela had taken to each other at once, and became quite firm friends, Foyle recalls.

Mrs Ellis brings in tea, apologises for its meagerness and withdraws to the kitchen.

‘Would you care for something a bit stronger than mere tea?’ Pamela enquires. ‘I can imagine that you might need it, after travelling in this day and age. There’s no whiskey of any description, I’m afraid, but we do have a bottle of rather good Portuguese sherry.’

‘Well, um, perhaps a very small glass. Thank you.’

Sounding less facetious, she asks after Andrew.

‘He’s, um, he’s well,’ Christopher replies. ‘Not that it’s easy on him – not that I wouldn’t prefer to see him in some sort of nice, safe job at a desk – but he holds up all right on the whole. How’s Alan?’

‘Happy as the day is long — adores the Royal Naval College, talks constantly about the Painted Hall, and is quite convinced that we’ll win the day just as soon as he’s on active service!’

‘That’ll be, um, another two years, won’t it?’

‘Quite right,’ Pamela says dryly. ‘A bit long to wait, in my opinion. He has a chit for the week-end. He’s asked after you.’

‘It’ll be very good to see him. What about Averill?’

‘I’m afraid not — she won’t be here, I mean. Keighly’s a long way off, fifteen’s a bit young for such a long journey on one’s own — as I see it, at any rate — and they’re keeping those girls busy year ’round there. We haven’t seen her since Easter — and we went there. Quite a trek in these conditions! But there’s some good news on that score — the school’s coming back to London in September. I don’t know that I was meant to tell you that,’ she adds, ‘but there it is.’

‘Is that wise?’

‘Charles and I have had a few conversations about that, I can tell you! But Keighly’s not all that far from either Bradford or Leeds, and they’ve both been Blitzed. I suppose that the governors think that they may as well take their chances! In any case the decision’s been made — and it’ll be marvelous to have her home.’

‘Of course. I understand you have a new job,’ Christopher adds.

‘Yes. I’m afraid I wasn’t much good at making Sten guns — they showed me the door, Christopher, to be perfectly honest! — so I’ve joined CEMA as a sort of manager-at-large.’

Christopher frowns, puzzled.

‘Seema?’ he asks. ‘Oh, the Committee, um... ’

‘Or the Council, as it is now, for the Encouragement of Music and Arts.’

‘That part of the Government?’

‘No, not as such. It was run strictly on private funds at first, but Parliament has awarded us a hundred thousand pounds per annum — and Mr Bevin absolutely loathes us!’ Pamela adds with great glee. ‘Some of the people we’ve reached,’ she continues, sounding more serious now, ‘have never seen a live performance of anything before — they’ve simply never had the opportunity — unless it was the village amateur dramatic society, I suppose. It’s truly wonderful, Christopher — we’ve had letters from people who tell us that we’ve opened up whole new worlds for them! War does break down barriers — as dreadful as it is to think of it doing anything beneficial!’

‘I’ve often heard – um, the young woman who was my driver – I’ve often heard her say much the same thing.’

‘Would that be Miss Stewart?’

‘Oh – yes.’

‘We’ve heard some very encouraging things about her.’ Pamela smiles and sips her tea. ‘As it happens, CEMA is looking for a regional officer for the Hastings area. We have someone in Brighton, but she has her hands full with that region — and she’s expecting a baby in January.’

‘This a paying position?’

‘Oh, of course! Not lavishly, I’ll admit — two guineas per week to start with, plus travel expenses.’

‘That isn’t too bad,’ Christopher considers. ‘If I can think of a likely candidate I’ll let you know.’

‘I’d be quite grateful for that.’

Modern as the flat may be, it has a hearth and a mantel, with a clock sitting atop the latter that now strikes the hour.

‘Charles promised to come home at a reasonable time today,’ Pamela notes. ‘Christopher, I ought to tell you that he left here this morning in — I was about to say “in a foul mood,” but “in a highly unsettled state” might be a better way of describing it.’

‘What about?’ her brother-in-law asks, trying and failing to picture this.

‘I don’t know! I can tell you what brought it on, though — a letter that arrived in the morning post. But I didn’t see it — not the letter itself, I mean — and Charles didn’t tell me what was it said. All I know is that it seemed to agitate him a good deal. He took it away with him. Well, when I say that I didn’t see it, what I mean is that I didn’t read it,’ she goes on. ‘Of course I didn’t. But I did see that it was typed — on rather better paper than one is accustomed to seeing nowadays, and that the paper was marked.’

Christopher smiles dimly.

‘I’m no longer with the police, Pamela,’ he reminds her.

‘Well, no. I know that, of course. But isn’t it interesting, nonetheless?’

‘Depends on what’s in it.’

When the door to the flat opens a few minutes later; Pamela excuses herself and goes into the hall to greet her husband. Foyle hears both of them saying his name, and Charles using the words apologise and upset. After a few moments the Howards return to the sitting room.

‘Christopher! Wonderful to see you! Thank you so very much for joining us,’ Charles begins, shaking his brother-in-law’s hand. ‘How was your journey up? We’ve been hearing the most terrible stories,’ he goes on. On the surface he’s the same as ever, but something has changed behind his kind eyes. Something has rattled him.

‘Oh, can’t complain,’ Christopher replies.

Charles asks after Andrew and – with a vagueness that seems almost deliberate, as though the subject were slightly too indelicate to bring up – enquires as to whether Christopher is keeping himself satisfactorily occupied these days. These subjects having been discussed, there is a short silence during which he looks first pensive, then determined.

‘Pamela tells me that she’s put you in the picture about my... well, my loss of an even keel this morning.’

‘Well, um, she told me that it occurred,’ Christopher replies.

‘Mm. There was a letter in the morning post that gave me quite a shock. As the day went on, though, it dawned on me that it concerns both of you as well,’ Charles continues, glancing at Pamela and then back to Christopher. ‘Please correct me if I’m wrong, Christopher, but I don’t believe that you ever met my brother – and of course I know that you never did, Pamela.’

‘Knew him only by reputation,’ Christopher affirms. Captain Nicholas Howard, 4th Battalion, Royal Surrey Regiment, had been killed in action on the first day of the Battle of the Somme and was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross.

‘Yes. Well. It seems that there was at least one thing about him that I didn’t know either.’ Charles falls silent again, looking perplexed. He reaches inside his jacket, brings out an envelope and removes its contents, which he offers to his wife and brother-in-law. ‘Perhaps it would be best if you both simply read this.’

He watches for a moment as Pamela and Christopher stand side by side, each holding an edge of the letter paper, taking in its contents. Then he looks out of a window.

[purplesurveys]

1120

[created by: vyvyan86]

What do you do for work? I work at a public relations agency, so I handle servicing for a good number of clients across different industries. PR is basically like the extroverted sibling of journalism; and since I turned out to not enjoy journ, I gave PR a try halfway through my time in college and ended up liking it more.

What would you ideally like to do for work? I actually really enjoy what I do, like getting to work directly with big local and even international brands. I’m glad I made the decision to make the career shift because I can’t imagine how miserable I would be in a newsroom.

What are you doing in order to achieve this? I’m already where I want to be, at least for now. I don’t see it changing any time soon because I’m nowhere near tired of the work yet.

What is the meaning of your life? What is it that you really live for? Erm I don’t really try to define it or have an answer to this right away because I feel like it puts a lot of unwanted pressure on me, by me. As long as I’m satisfied in the present, I shouldn’t be worrying for whom or what my life is ultimately supposed to be.

Have you ever REALLY thought what it means to have children? Yup. Having kids would be the perfect life, but realistically speaking I am not at all ready to start that particular chapter. I don’t make enough money to be able to build a family, and I’ve never even tried changing a diaper yet...then you have to think about weekly formulas, what school to enroll them in, building a nursery...it’s all very hectic and stressful and it’s definitely not a priority as of the moment.

Are you planning to have children anyway? It would be nice, but I still don’t know if it’s in my future.

What is the most awful thing about the world today? I doooooooooon’t understand racism. It’s those videos of white people being caught on tape harassing POCs without a care in the world that get to me the most. It’s horrifying and it’s made me have close to zero plans to travel to the places where the videos usually come from. It’s happened too many times and too many clips have gone viral, that I can’t help but think it would happen to me and my family as well. What do you think is the worst being on the planet? Abusive and/or neglectful parents.

Have you ever been arrested? If so, what for? Nopes.

Have you ever been in court? If so, in which role? Definitely not.

Which do you think is a more valuable being, a human or an animal? I don’t think it’s fair to compare. A life is a life.

What, in your opinion, will cause the end of the world? I’m gonna let science answer this and refer to whatever predictions they have for the future based on their calculations. 

What does your mother do for work? She works in an international hotel chain as an executive secretary, but work is actually kind of slippery for her at the moment because of Covid. There are only certain days in the week where she’s called in to report for work, and there is a chance those requests will stop coming in at a certain point.

^If she's a homemaker, any specific reason for this? She’s not anymore but she did enjoy a brief period of being a homemaker after resigning from her previous workplace back in likeeeee 2013 I’d say? which according to her had increasingly turned into a toxic environment after 20+ years of working there.

What about your father? What does he do? He is an executive sous chef. Cruise ship industry, so his situation is also actually quite bleak. Fortunately the job security with his company is a lot stronger and more guaranteed.

How do you like your coffee? I like it sweet and for its color to be light brown.

If you're of age, what's your favorite alcoholic drink? Tequila shots if we’re going hard. Long Island Iced Tea or Zombie if I’m looking to have a chill session with friends. Red Horse is fine as well, whatever. I hate beer with a passion but I’d drink it if everyone in the table is having a bottle.

If you're under-aged, what is your favorite soft drink? Bold of you to assume all minors like soda hahaha. I don’t, though.

Do you smoke? Yeah, just super seldom though because I don’t want to form a habit. I had the opportunity to last Friday but voluntarily skipped out on it, but that was also because I already had a vape pen on me.

^If so, did you start when you were 18 or were you younger? My first cigarette was when I was 21. Start of 2020.

Did your parents approve of your smoking/alcohol use before you turned 18? They wouldn’t have approved of it at all. And I wouldn’t have let myself either.

Do you have siblings? If not, skip the next few questions. Yeup.

Are you eldest, in the middle or youngest? I’m the eldest of two siblings.

How big an age gap is between you and your siblings? With my sister, 2 years. With my brother, 5 years.

Do/did your siblings cause trouble? Not at all, actually. We were all well-behaved, aka the three of us were always too shy to do anything bad or mischevious. I guess the biggest issues with each of us were - I was very messy with my stuff and ignored all my homework; Nina was a crybaby and would get into tears over literally any inconvenience; and my brother was a violent crybaby, which means he is Nina but always ready to punch you in the face, kick you in the neck or stomach, scream into your ear, etc.

If your siblings are old enough, what do they do for work? My sister is taking up digital filmmaking in an art school; my brother is only in his junior year of high school.

Have you ever been jealous of your siblings? I’m not jealous of her, but Nina is amazing at art and drawing and painting and all that stuff and I always wish I shared even like 1/98th of her skills, hahah.

Do you still live with your parent/s or do you live alone/with a partner? I live with my family, yeah. I’m nowhere near ready to start being on my own.

What do you think about growing up? Like what Paramore said (heheh), has to happen sometimes.

What about having responsibilities? I don’t really think anything of them? They’re kind of expected.

Do you know how to cook? Nope.

^If so, what's your favorite thing to cook? I don’t know how to make anything yet, but some dishes I would love to be able to master are risotto and paella. I’d also love to inherit my grandma’s kare-kare recipe but I’m already 300% sure from this early that I’ll never be able to make it as good as she does.

What about baking? I also can’t bake but some stuff I’d want to learn how to make are cupcakes, macarons, cheesecake, and a chocolate chip cookie recipe so good that my kids would literally bring their friends over to our house just to make them try it.

Do you ever drink tea? Iced tea for the most part. If I do ever drink the traditional hot tea, it’s usually because it’s served either at a hotel I’m staying at, or at an Asian restaurant.

Have you ever followed any of these fad diets that go around? I don’t follow a diet. I’m usually open to trying out foods that are packaged to fall under a certain diet, though – paleo, keto, etc. - just to experience how much different it could possibly taste from the food I typically have.

What do you usually order at your favorite restaurant? I usually get rosu, a type of tonkatsu cut that has a lining of fat on its side. My favorite restaurant then provides unlimited rice, miso soup, and cabbage with my order.

Do you prefer a proper restaurant to a fast food place? Not necessarily. I love a lot of either.

What's your dream vehicle? A Mini Countryman.

What about your dream house? I don’t have an exact image of it yet, but I always said that my dream house, wherever and whatever it might be, must have a room for all the wrestling memorabilia I plan to collect in the future. It’ll be like a ~mancave~  as I also plan to have a couch and a big TV in it so I can watch documentaries and pay-per-views there.

What is the biggest dream of your life? Right now, I would say the ‘biggest’ - since I’ve established it since I was a kid - is to go to the 50th installment of Wrestlemania, which is like the Superbowl of wrestling. This year it’ll be the 37th, so I have 13 years left to plan the dream out and save up and stuff.

If you could travel to another country right now, where would you go? Morocco.

What is a country you'd never ever visit? There isn’t a country I wouldn’t want to visit at least once. I’d probably avoid the ones that have dangerous political situations or are literally at war at the moment, but it doesn’t mean I don’t ever want to step foot in them.

Are you good at taking care of your finances? I’m getting there! I was able to have a good amount of savings this month :) My finances were shit for the first two months of my job because there was immediately soooooooo much to pay for, but I’m glad everything is on track now.

Have you ever had any trouble paying your bills? Well no, because I don’t pay my own yet. I do hand a portion of my allowance to my parents every payday so that I can help out with the family bills, though.

What about your rent? We don’t have rent.

What do you think is the best thing about being an adult? The freedom that comes with it is very empowering. I don’t technically have to ask permission to go out with friends anymore, or be scared of a curfew (but my mom still imposes one, LOL. It’ll mellow it within time though, I’m sure); I make my own money and can spend it however way I want while the rest I can save; I can take a drive or book an entire trip altogether as long as I can afford it...it’s letting me get to know myself even more, in a way that college and my teenage years weren’t able to do.

What about the worst? Being expected to have my shit together when I’m very clueless still about so many things in life. I make fuckups at work at least once a week and I always feel like I’m going to get fired with every mistake, lol.

Is there a person in your life, who wastes their life somehow? Hmm, I don’t think so. I have an uncle who had seemed to be headed nowhere before, but I think he’s slowly getting back on track. I think. At least I don’t hear anything about him anymore.

^If so, how are they wasting their life? Never had a stable job, was a neglectful husband and father (I think he still is), was never able to secure a house and even a car for his family, and deals with his problems by drinking...and worse, drunk-driving, sometimes. It’s an embarrassment and I don’t care if my grandma tells me off for giving him the cold shoulder every family gathering. I’m not gonna get close to someone who negatively affects my mood and my energy.

What is something you need to do, but you keep postponing it? Getting a new pair of glasses. Booking an appointment is a Newly-Unlocked Adult Thing that I’ve never done yet, so I’m nervous and I keep putting it off, hahaha.

Do you think life should just hand things to you? Not at all.

Or should you earn the things you want and need with hard work? Yeah, there you go.

Would you rather live off government benefits or earn your own money? Earn on my own, as much as possible. But some balance would be nice as well so that I can start feeling as if the government is actually helping and serving me.

When you take a survey, do you skip questions? Typically, no. But some of the older ones I’ve seen made by, like, 15 year olds of the time will have nonsense, downright immature, or lowkey racist/homophobic questions that I will have no problem deleting altogether as I think no one here would have any interest in answering them either.

Why, do you think, people write lyrics as the title for a survey? To be creative and catchy, I guess. And it works - I do tend to click on surveys that use lyrics.

If you have a Facebook, what do you use it for? Look for things to share, mainly. I’m fully back on it now after going a way for a bit to do some healing on my own.

If you have a Twitter, what do you use it for? As a space to let out literally all my thoughts and brianfarts. No one cares on Twitter, so it’s the perfect space to make a mess and be a mess.

If you have a Tumblr, what do you use it for? I used to have a wrestling-themed Tumblr (and before that, many more other themed Tumblrs), but when my interest died down I soon switched to using Tumblr for my surveys and being more lowkey altogether on here.

If you have an iPhone, why? I find it easier to use, and I like the interface more. The camera’s features are also more to my liking.

If you have an iPad, why? We have a really old model of it, and we bought that because iPads were all the rage at the time. It had been the newest concept from Apple and most people felt they had to have one, including my family. We definitely don’t feel the need to get another tablet anytime soon since it just functions like a giant phone for the most part.

If you have the latest electronic gadgets, did you pay for them yourself? I’ve never paid for a gadget before.

Do you always put your litter in a trashcan? Of course. I know how to pick up after myself like a respectful human. < Yup.

When you walk/ride your bike/drive your car, are you careful? Yeah, unless I’m mad. Sometimes road rage will take over me tbh, especially if other people on the road have been stupid for quite some time.

What is the rudest thing a person could do or say to you? Something phobic after seeing Jess and I together. < This reminds me of when my ex and I used to get stares or whispers in public. But to be honest, I actually enjoyed those encounters because it only served as fuel for me to get even more affectionate and piss them off more, lol. Good times. 

Anyway, the rudest thing I can think of at the moment is being cut while in line. Some people do it so subtly too, and their shy, careful shuffle to get in front of me is what irritates me the most because THEY KNOW they’re doing something shitty and yet are being so sneaky about it.

Have you ever been that rude to someone else? I have never cut in line, never will.

Do you think your parents are proud of you and what you do with your life? I don’t know. I hope so. I don’t know if they’re expecting me to move out at this point, but I hope they’re at least proud of the fact that their first kid managed to land a job, especially considering we’re living in Covid times.

Which would you rather be, famous or a "nobody"? Why? Can’t I be somewhere in between? When it boils down to it, I’d probably go with being a nobody...I’d miss the socialization and having friends, but at least it means I can get away with more.

Do you need to have the latest fashion in clothes and accessories? It would be nice, but I’m not desperate to have them.

If you have a job, do you get along with your co-workers? Yeah, I’d say so. I definitely have never fought with anyone yet. It’s hard to gauge my relationship with each of them because I entered the workplace while we’re under WFH so I’ve only gotten to talk to most of them through Viber; but so far, so good.

What kind of hobbies do you have? I like traveling and learning, so anything that’s got to do with those - going to museums, visiting ancestral houses, trying local art forms - I would definitely dive into. But if I’m not in a new province or country altogether, I like trying out new food and new restaurants, embroidering, watching my favorite shows, coloring, painting, and reading essays about history. :)

Would anything in the whole world make you give up any of those hobbies? I’m not super attached to painting anymore, so I guess.

Have you had/do you have any pets? I currently have two dogs. In the past we’ve had a cat, a rabbit, two birds, and several goldfish.

Do you even like animals? I love them, except insects.

If you aren't already, would you ever get married? It would be a nice thing to tick off my life event list.

If you are already married, what was the ultimate reason for the marriage? -

As a child, did you do anything really bad? I was raised in a highly violent household with the worst influences as my elders. Yes, I managed to squeeze in some horrible stuff when no one was looking.

^If so, what was it? What were the consequences? I was violent towards my brother but won’t get into it. The only thing I’ll mention is that I used to chase him around with a knife whenever he’d start becoming too much of a headache.

As a teenager, did you do anything really bad? I don’t think so. I was well-traumatized and abused by the time I was a teenager so I was afraid of fucking anything up and being in more trouble.

^If so, what was it? What were the consequences? The worst thing I did was lie about my performance in school, honestly. Which, looking back now, doesn’t even seem like a big deal considering I was only in high school then and grades from there barely matter.

Do you have a problem with authority? Nope. Well, a good number of my teachers didn’t seem to like me for some reason. I’d say it’s their problem though since I never did anything to raise hell in school, ever.

What's your favorite comic strip? I don’t have one.

Is there a piece of clothing you absolutely must wear every day Underwear... < Yep.

Has a doctor ever told you to lose weight? No. I’ve always been on the lighter side so that has never been a comment given to me by anyone.

Have you ever been diagnosed with a lifelong disease? Isn’t scoliosis a lifelong thing? If it is, then yes I have been.

What is something you absolutely hate? Fruits.

What about something you absolutely love? Seafood! Which is why I have spicy tuna salad and dynamite rolls with me at the moment :)

[laurelsofhighever]

The Falcon and the Rose Ch. 66 - The Promise of Spring

Chapter Rating: Mature Chapter Warnings: Gore, Dismemberment Relationships: Alistair/Female Cousland Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Fereldan Civil War AU - No Blight, Romance, Angst, Action/Adventure, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Fereldan Culture and Customs, Cousland Feels, Canonical Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Read it on AO3

--

First day of Wintermarch, 9:32 Dragon, First Day

Dim, early morning light seeped through the curtains in Rosslyn’s room. Her windows faced east and north, over the sea, and for years her mornings had been spent hiding from the sun to catch a few more hours of sleep before the inevitable start to the castle’s day, but on this morning, the first peek of dawn did not bother her. She was already awake, if barely, warm under the covers and content. Alistair lay beside her, sharing her pillow, his legs tangled with hers, running gentle caresses along her arms and back with the tips of his fingers.

“I should go,” he told her, breaking into a yawn.

She nudged forwards, brushing a slow touch over his collarbone. “Just a little longer.”

“I’ll be missed,” he warned. “And then I won’t be ready in time. And neither will you.”

“You’ll be cold if you leave,” she pointed out, with a pout.

“I’ll just have to keep myself warm thinking of you.”

Still not quite awake enough to laugh properly, Rosslyn sighed, and leaned into the soft touch along the side of her face before wriggling closer to rest her forehead against his.

“You know, this wouldn’t be such a problem if you married me.”

Her smile widened. “Hush with your logic.”

The subject had become something of a joke between them, moments of levity strung out like beads on a necklace that started when she had airily asked if she could expect him to steal the last pastry at breakfast every morning of their lives. Since then, they had discussed so many things, from the inane to the serious, what colour they should use to monogram the egg-cups and whether it would be better to live in Denerim with the king, or in Highever where they could help Fergus rebuild.

She leaned into him now with a slow press of her lips against his, the gentle hitch of her leg over his waist, a quiet hum when his palm graced her thigh.

“Are you sure you’re not a little bit tempted to stay?” she asked, with her fingers carded in his hair.

“I know what this is,” he replied. His expression remained soft, but worry pulled at the corners of his eyes and she found herself wanting to hide away in the safety of his shoulder. “I won’t ask if you’re sure –”

“I am.”

“And I’ll be beside you for every step of today,” he promised. “And after that, it’ll be over.”

“But they’ll still be gone,” she mumbled. “Is it strange, that after all this time it still feels like a little part of me was hoping that… that they’d just spring back into being?”

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, Alistair shook his head. “When my mother died, they wouldn’t let me see her.”

She held herself closer; he talked so rarely about his childhood.

“For months I wouldn’t believe she was dead, I kept insisting that she was travelling no matter what anyone told me. I grew out of it eventually, I guess, but it’s hard, not getting closure like that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he answered. Their hands found each other and laced together. “I wish I could do more to stop you hurting – but I’m not staying!” he amended quickly, as one fine eyebrow arched.

“Worth a try,” she teased.

“You’re incorrigible.” He scooted across to kiss her. “And I have to go before your maid comes in and scolds me.”

She huffed good-naturedly against his mouth. “Fine. If you must.”

“My lady is so gracious.”

He brushed one last kiss over her lips and rolled over to wriggle out from under the covers, careful to avoid opening their space to any chill inrush of air. As he winced along the cold boards retrieving his clothes so haphazardly discarded the night before, she stretched under the blankets and watched him, and when he reached the door still shrugging his jerkin onto his shoulders, he glanced over at her and his smile might have melted the winter around them.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said.

“I love you.”

--

Three hours later, she stood on the headland outside the city on a flat spur of rock that lifted itself above the tide line, protected from the buffet of the wind by layers of leather and quilted samite, and a hood of thick fur that tickled her cheek with every gust. The sky over the sea had darkened with the burgeoning threat of a storm, an occasional flash of lightning behind the charcoal smudge of heavy rain, and it stirred a bitter tang of damp wood and rotting seaweed in the back of her throat.

The journey down from the castle had begun with the usual chaos of the season, the celebration for the turning point of the year that came with shouts and coloured streamers and a turfing out of old things, and with Alistair and Fergus at her side she had led Highever’s population to a cove rimmed with greyish sand and flat, smooth boulders poking out of the shingle in the low tide, topped with limpets and serpent-green seaweed. A single column of rock rose out of the surf among its smaller brethren, its uneven face stained with rust from the ancient iron rings riveted to it at half the height of a human, a landmark that had once been nothing more than one of many eroded sea stacks along the teyrnir’s coast, but which had been pressed into service generations ago for moments just such as these.

As a crowd gathered on the dunes around her to watch, guards in Laurel blue marched to the cage drawn behind their carriage and hauled Howe from the floor before dragging him to where she waited with the others. He was filthy. The people they had passed in the streets had thrown ash over him from the dead fires of the previous year, but the grey streaks over his skin did little to hide the way it sagged, the stains on the cloth and the lank hair, the sores at his wrists and ankles where the cuffs had cut too deep. The guards gripped him by the elbows as Rosslyn stepped forward to address the crowd, and it was only in part to make sure he didn’t try to escape.

“The year past has been hard on us all,” she called to the people, in a voice lacking the wobble it had carried that faint, faraway day on Harrowhill when she ordered the retreat. “We have lost, and we have mourned, but we have also survived to stand in defiance of those who would have trodden us into the mud.” Rapt silence met her words. “We have much to rebuild, but today is a day of celebration, a day of hope, and a day of justice for those who have done us wrong.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and drew the Rose’s Thorn form its sheath.

“Maker spit on you,” Howe snarled as she approached. “I deserved more.”

“I agree.”

One of the guards fisted his hand in Howe’s hair to keep his head still. He struggled nonetheless, but she paid him no mind as she drew the tip of her blade along the crest of each sallow cheek, deep enough for a line of blood to well and mix with the coating of ash, but not deep enough for true disfigurement.

“After today, you will be forgotten, your name never spoken, and your bones left to rot in the depths of the sea,” she told him in an undertone. “You had best hope the cold takes you before the sea drakes catch your scent.”

At that, what little defiance was left in his eyes drained away. He had been present to witness her father dispose of the Orlesian duke who had stolen the Cousland seat and treated the people like amusements, had seen first-hand the old punishment brought into new use, the ritual that was both catharsis and warning for those left standing on the shore. Perhaps Howe had thought she would lack the spleen to use it.

She let her gaze slide past him and turned back to the crowd. Her voice, raised from the stomach as Aldous had taught her, reverberated from the circling dunes so that it had an almost magical power. “Now, as for generations, we send the ashes of our past griefs into the sea, to be cleansed so that the world may be renewed.”

A small wave of her hand, and the guards shoved Howe along the causeway, beyond the stretch of the sand and the maze of boulders to the spire already being licked with the first waves of the incoming tide. One held him in place while the other passed chains through the central ring, then fastened the ends around each of his wrists. He would have enough slack to move, to pace if he wanted, but not so much that he would be able to keep his head above the water – if he kept his head at all. The people watched in silence as the guards returned to stand with the rest of the Cousland escort, and even the storm itself seemed to pause, as if waiting to see what happened next.

“What now?” Alistair asked in her ear. Officially, he had come as the king’s representative, to see justice done, but his presence at her back steadied her even if the method of execution wasn’t to his liking.

“We wait.”

The water rose slowly. It undulated in and away, creeping to cover the rocks until only little bobbing patches of seaweed marked their place and then they too disappeared, while crests of white foam lapped at first the shingle then the sand, then at Howe’s ankles where he stood chained to the spire. This was the point, the dread of the inexorable ending. Even from so far away, she could see the nervous darts of his head as his eyes scanned the water, his start as the first spines broke the surface. On his other side, a narrow draconic head smooth with grey-blue scales lifted from the waves with a plume of spray from its nostrils, its head turning this way and that to regard him with large, yellow eyes, before it slipped back under the next crest and disappeared. More shadows stirred under the water, each movement becoming another half-glimpsed fin or a lightning flash of scales, attracted by the smell of blood and Howe’s splashing as he backed against the stone.

The water reached halfway up his thigh when the first sea drake hauled itself onto the causeway. Even half-submerged, it was still huge, with a thick neck and powerful shoulders, a sloped back armoured with interlocking scales that narrowed and paled down its flanks. Webbed black spines ran in a ridge down its back to a broad, paddle-shaped tail, and up to a pair of vestigial horns that crested its head like a crown. Rosslyn had only been small when she had first seen one through her mother’s glass, sunning itself on the pebbled shore of a rocky islet, but even so many years later her awe of such a creature had not diminished. Howe kicked water at it and shouted as it stalked towards him on short, stately legs, and with the air of an affronted cat the spines flared along its back, its hiss a thing of primeval menace as it dived into the swell of an incoming wave. Before Howe could celebrate his triumph, however, another drake surfaced on his other side and made a feinting snap at his knees. He drove off that one, too, but others were already closing in.

“And we just watch?” Alistair asked, trying to keep his voice steady. “How long do we stay here?”

“Until it is finished,” Fergus answered.

“This is how things are done,” Rosslyn told him, her eyes fixed on the far, struggling point. “You were right that we can’t match the suffering he caused, but it isn’t about killing him.” Her expression softened into doubt, and she turned to him. “You don’t have to stay.”

The crash of a wave drowned out Howe’s yelled curse, but not the chorus of inhuman cries that followed it. Alistair’s jaw clenched at the sound, but he reached for her hand anyway.

“I promised I would,” he said.

She had told him what was planned, waited with held breath for him to make her choose between his righteousness and justice for her people, but he had merely nodded, and followed her lead, and now the last of her worry washed away in a sigh of relief. A scream behind her brought her gaze back to Howe. The water reached almost to his chest. For a moment she saw only a patch of darkness spreading like oil over the water, and then stillness, and streams of sinuous forms moving against the current. And then the water frothed pink. Howe shrieked. His arms jerked to try and get away, the chains sparking against the rock, until with one final shudder his body fell limp, and the only movement then came from the squabble of the sea drakes over their feast.

Through it all, Rosslyn watched stony-faced, forced herself not to look away. A single tear leaked from the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek, but she ignored it. For a moment, the emotion stirring beneath her ribs went unrecognised, like a call in the darkness, until her breathing eased and she realised the slow spread of peace through her limbs. The encroaching storm and the rising water swallowed up the scene before her. It would take days for the bones to be picked clean, and somehow that was enough, final enough, that a weight she had not realised she had been carrying lifted from her shoulders, and when she turned her head to face Fergus, he met her gaze with the same tired look in his eyes. When they had stood together on the steps of Castle Cousland nearly a year before, her head had been full of the stories of battle, valiant triumphs and victories over fearful opponents, but few had mentioned what came after, the emptiness when there was nobody left to fight, and nobody waiting at home to welcome the hero’s return.

She had forgotten Alistair’s hand in hers until he squeezed it lightly to get her attention. People were already starting to leave. Watching them, the slow, steady amble back to hearth and home and family to light the fires for the coming year, she sagged and let her head fall on his shoulder, accepting the quiet flow of his strength with nothing more than a sigh. Her mind drifted back over the past few weeks, to their argument and the question he had asked her. They had spent so much time together since then, sharing meals and sneaking out of each other’s beds in the mornings, small moments that would have been unthinkable to the girl who had thundered out of the barbican gates in the middle of the night at the head of an army.

“It’s getting late,” Alistair murmured as the first drops of rain pattered the rock around them.

“It’s done,” she agreed. “We should go.”

The journey back to the castle passed in silence, and more silence met them beyond the barbican. Aside from the complement of volunteers filling the duty roster, most of the guard and the servants had taken the day to visit friends or relatives after the services in the chantry. As Rosslyn descended from the carriage, her thoughts drifted to Morrence, who had found her home a wreckage of the one she knew, and who had gone with Leliana to spend time with Gideon and his brothers.

“You’re back!” Amell cried from the top of the stairs, her voice nearly blown away by the wind. “Lord Fergus needs his treatment.”

“Can it wait?” Fergus asked. “I want to walk in the gardens.”

“Your Lordship, the weather –”

“Dearest little sister, how about we take a turn together?” he interrupted.

Something in his tone reminded Rosslyn of their mother when she was determined to get her way, but she had inherited the Seawolf’s steel, too. “Are you warm enough?”

“What, under the four blankets you’ve already piled on top of my five layers?”

“I feared you wouldn’t be able to walk if I added any more,” she told him with a wry quirk of her brow.

“I’m fine,” he huffed. “You fuss worse than Nan ever did.”

Alistair delicately cleared his throat. “I’ll be in the library.”

She squeezed his fingers, mourning that she had to let them go. “I’ll see you soon.”

For an instant, his gaze lingered on her mouth, but with their company he let her go unkissed, and they parted, he up the keep steps into the warmth of the castle, and she after her brother, who was already halfway to the door in the curtain wall that led down to the uppermost terrace of the gardens. The stairs in the pass were free of ice, but the narrow corridor channelled the wind into a freezing knife that cut at any flesh not safely hidden under winter layers. The gravel paths beyond wandered as they always had between beds now devoid of their summer verdancy, as if no horrors had befallen the castle at all, with only the ragged line of the clipped rosemary hedges betraying the months of neglect.

Fergus’ cane tapped a steady rhythm along the path, keeping time with the pace of Rosslyn’s thoughts as she fidgeted with the silence. She let him lead her, distracting herself with the work that would need to be done, and hoping the sky would leave off opening long enough for her brother to say whatever was clearly on his mind.

“That was a good speech you gave today,” he said eventually, poking at a weed that had sprung up between the stones. “Are you going to take your own advice?”

“What do you mean?”

“Moving forward,” he answered. “Building a life.”

He turned off the formal walk to a path that clung to the base of the keep wall, and her step faltered. She knew where they were going.

“The war isn’t over yet.” She picked a stray bit of leaf from her glove. “There are still things to do.”

He stopped, turned. “You have a man who loves you – a good man, who’s worthy of you, as far as I can tell. Putting that off helps no one.”

“Putting what off, exactly?”

For the space of a breath, he held the challenge in her gaze, battling her will to be obstinate in the face of his prying, until he grumbled something unintelligible and lifted his eyes skyward. Whether he was cursing her or the weather was difficult to tell.

“You’ve become quite grouchy in your old age,” she remarked as they continued along the path.

An elegant glasshouse waited at the end of it, set against the northern wall of the keep and best placed for the sun and the views as the terraced levels of the garden gave way to sheer basalt cliffs. Many of the glass panes between the wrought-iron frames had broken, and dead leaves piled inside the door, but with nothing to burn or to break, the interior had been left mostly untouched. The servants must have kept the plants watered for there to still be so much greenery, but Rosslyn doubted many of Howe’s soldiers had ventured far enough into the gardens to even discover Oriana’s solar, the gift she had found waiting for her when she stepped off that final ship from Antiva.

Of course Fergus would want to spend time in this place, on this day. He was already wandering through the space, his hands brushing the leaves of the orange trees his wife had planted as the rain finally unleashed itself upon them. It clattered on the glass like a volley of ballista bolts, globs of gritty sleet that turned into a water race towards the gutter and spilled over the broken bits in the roof. He ignored the roar as the front passed over them and settled into a steadier drone against their shelter, busy instead with an overturned chair that he dusted off with the tail end of one of his blankets.

“He asked you, didn’t he?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not talking about this with you. I had enough of you all prying into my personal life years before I ever met Alistair, and it’s not going to change now. It’s between me and him. And I can’t believe you would be so hypocritical! You nearly ran away to Antiva when Mother mentioned –” Her mouth snapped shut, but too late to avoid the grief pinching at the corners of her brother’s eyes.

“Don’t deny yourself happiness out of pity for me,” he cautioned. “I lost everything except you, don’t – don’t add to that. You deserve the same joy I had. There’s –” He blinked and looked up at the rain. “There’s nothing like it, and we Couslands don’t do well when denied our passions. We mope, and you’re awful when you mope.”

Unsure of how to reply, she turned away from him and out to the raging sea. It was all well for her brother to sit and hand out advice like one of Canavan’s battle lectures but he had had nothing to lose in pursuit of Oriana; he would still have been himself. She wanted the future she saw with Alistair, that image of them curled up together in the library with the sunlight streaming through the window, but in the darkness when the nightmares woke her and only the sound of his breathing kept her panic at bay, the fear of losing him – of the husk she might become without him – became a visceral, living thing that threatened to engulf her whole. She couldn’t take the step, couldn’t make it real.

She deflected for something simpler. “What about you?”

“I’ll do my duty, as Father would have wanted,” he answered, stabbing his cane through a leaf. “And if that prince of yours ever forgets how good he has it, I’ll have to step in and remind him. Forcefully. With a sword.”

At that, she smiled. “You’re so annoying.”

“It makes up for all the years you tagged along after me, trying to keep up,” he shot back, and even stuck out his tongue.

“We used to drive Nan mad.”

“It’s a shame she worked out our scheme for stealing biscuits from the kitchen.” He sighed. “Go on in and see His Highness, before he comes out looking and thinking you’ve fallen down a rabbit hole or something. I – I want to stay here for a while.”

Alone, he didn’t say.

“And your healing session?” she asked.

“I’ll manage without it.”

The dutiful part of her worried, wanted to argue, but she remembered Deerswall, and the solitude she had looked for in the grove away from the eyes of all looking to her to lead. So she nodded, and drew her weather layers more tightly around her shoulders for the walk back to the keep.

“Don’t stay out too long,” she said, and stepped out into the rain.

[dejayoonw]

part 27 : static screams | loser baby

playlist drabble

taglist: @whiskeyandcashton @xxxanimangxxx @hannahdinse8 @scarredbytheworld @strapsforyoonie @sunrisemcp

"i'm watching, i'm waiting, i'm aching, suffocating. i'm breathing, i'm speaking, can you hear me? i'm screaming for you."

"Your phone has been going off, babe." yoongi mumbled while lightly shaking yn, as if his deep gravely voice wasn't enough to wake her. they'd decided to spend their saturday studying which had ended in them taking a three hour nap on his bed. yn rolled over, blindly reaching for her phone when it started ringing again. without checking it she answered the call ready to go off on whoever was blowing her phone up.

"Who the hell,"

"Yn, thank god. I need to see you. Can you meet me in the library?" jeongguk interrupted, ignoring her cursing. he knew her well enough to know he'd woken her up just by the sound of her voice but he couldn't really care less. his adrenaline was far too high to worry about her nap schedule.

"What? Why?" yn said rolling back over into yoongi who gladly welcomed her, wrapping his arms around her waist. the shock of hearing jeongguk’s voice not quite sinking in yet.

"It's kind of a long story, please just come, it's important." jeongguk pleaded, his voice full of desperation. yn's mind finally seemed to begin working properly, racing with the possibilities. had something happened with him and taehyung? the idea of jeongguk needing support had yn sitting up and gathering her things without a second thought.

"Okay, I'll be there soon." yn told her friend, worry clear in her voice. jeongguk could feel the guilt welling up in the pit of his stomach as they ended their call. yn was none the wiser, thinking something was seriously wrong when the real trouble had yet to begin. yn looked over at her boyfriend who was now sitting at the edge of his bed watching her with concern. "Oh shit, yoongi, I'm sorry I didn't even ask,"

"Don't even finish that sentence. You don't have to ask me to do shit." yoongi interrupted, almost offended the thought had even crossed her mind. in all honesty it made him happy to see her and jeongguk getting back on good terms, even if the younger boy clearly hated yoongi, that was yn's best friend. it was clear to him how much he meant to her, the only thing that mattered to yoongi was that yn was happy.

"You're the best, I don't know what's going on with Guk but maybe if it's not late when I get back to the dorm we could sneak up to the roof?" yn suggested, stepping in between yoongi's parted thighs, her hands wrapping around the back of his neck while a playful smile toyed at her lips. yoongi's let his hands rest on the backs of her thighs, squeezing lightly.

"I guess I could check my schedule." he teased making her swat at him lightly with a laugh. With one last peck yn left yoongi's room, heading straight for the library.

-

"Hey Guk, is everything okay? I'm sorry it took me so long I was, oh, hey Jin." the library was mostly empty since it was a saturday, the only person besides the three of them being the elderly librarian who was currently taking a nap at her desk. yn had spotted jeongguk at the back of the room quickly but she'd missed jin sitting at the other end of the table. quickly she realized something was up and it was most likely not relationship problems. "What's going on?"

"Um, well there's a lot we have to tell you, do you, you might want to sit down." jeongguk was nervous, something yn rarely saw but wasn't exactly a stranger to. normally he'd only get this way when his parents would catch them doing magic in the back yard, or that time he had a crush on kim mingyu who shamelessly flirted with jeongguk before he'd come out. if jeongguk was this nervous yn could only imagine what he had to say, so she took the seat across from him, glancing back and forth from him and their older friend while both seemed to avoid meeting her gaze.

"To start, I should tell you that everything we tell you right now, it has to be kept a secret. It's against the law to speak of it and if we get caught it'll be bad for all of us." jin said quietly, finally moving to the seat next to jeongguk. jin cast an invisibility spell over the three of them, making yn wonder what on earth she was here for. it was then yn noticed the folder and yearbook in his hand, she froze when she saw the familiar book jin held, it was the same one she’d looked at towards the beginning of the semester.

"Why do you have a yearbook from 1994?" yn asked her eyes not leaving the solid white book with the schools logo printed on the front.

"1994 was the year my parents graduated, same for jeongguk's dad. the next year jeongguk's mom, and your parents graduated. the six of them were all friends, kind of like you jeongguk, jimin and taehyung, they grew up together, came to this school and graduated as best friends." jin's confession took a moment to hit yn. the jeon's, who had been more like parents to her than her own aunts had known her real parents. if this was true why had neither of them had ever mentioned it before? they always acted like they hardly knew her aunts and had even listened to her when she’d talk about her parents like it was the first time they’d heard of them.

"The jeon’s, they knew? But they never,"

"They couldn't say anything. Your parents death was a tragedy and it effected everyone. When it happened there had been so many other things leading up to it. Witches were scared to leave the coven, they started keeping their children from training, many even 'going off the grid'. So in attempts to fix everything there were rules put in place. Most of them made sense, some didn't. One of them being that no one was ever allowed to speak of august the fifth, the day your parents were murdered." yn choked on her own breath, the bluntness of jin's words being nearly too much for her to handle. she'd never heard the story of her parents death, she'd always thought it was strange that no one seemed to know anything about it. everything jin said so far was adding up to the vague pieces of information she'd gathered so far.

"Who, who killed them? How do you know all of this?" yn managed to choke out.

"My parents told me when I was in high school. The woman that killed your parents was called Min Hayoon. She was Jaesun's mother." jin said slowly, in hopes of giving yn time to process the news. jeongguk on the other hand, he let his adrenaline get the best of him.

"Yoongi's aunt. His aunt killed your parents yn, and he didn't tell you." yn's mind was spinning from it all. there was no way it was true, yoongi wouldn't do that to her. he couldn't, could he? "It's the truth, look we even have proof."

the file was slapped open to show pages of information on min hayoon. yn's eyes scanned the page, praying this was some kind of sick joke. but there it was, laid out on old faded legal paper was the dreadful truth.

January 6th, 1997: Min was charged with first-degree murder, feeding on other witches, also accused of practicing dark magic

April 17th, 1997: Min was sentenced 60 years to life in the Maleficarum Carcerem(prison of witches)

July 4th, 1997: Min moved to isolation for behavioral issues

August 4th, 1997: Min escaped during transfer back to main facility

August 5th, 1997: Min executed by magic, unknown source. Min family chose not to investigate further

"There's a picture of Yoongi's aunt with your dad, they were obviously friends in school or maybe even something more." jeongguk added pushing the old yearbook in yn's face not even noticing the tears in her eyes. "Shit Yn, your aunts, they're not even human. They were born witches but they lost their powers that night. They worked together with your parents, my parents and Jin’s parents to protect you from her. They knew she was coming. Your mom and mine put a protection spell on you, connecting you to me, that way as long as I was kept safe you would be too, my mom was eight months pregnant with me at the time. Yn that's why I've always had that protective instinct over you."

"How long have you known?" yn asked, eyes snapping up to meet jeongguk's. he was talking like this wasn't new information to him. she hoped jin had only filled him in that day but the way his eyes filled with relief the more he spoke, like he’d been holding it in for a while made her skeptical.

"Um, well I, Jin hyung told me a while ago," it was as if the initial high from finally being able to spill everything had worn off and he'd just noticed yn's appearance. her eyes red from holding back tears, her mascara smudged slightly from the few that had managed to slip past. aside from the obvious signs jeongguk could see the pain in her eyes and it was then he realized how wrong he'd been in the way he went about all of this. "I just couldn't tell you before, I wanted to but I,"

"So why now?" yn questioned her anger building up. she felt betrayed. jeongguk was supposed to be her best friend, he knew her better than anyone. he'd held her many times in their years growing up while she cried over her parents. he knew how she longed to know them.

"Well because you, you were dating Yoongi and he's obviously not who he says he is." jeongguk stuttered only now realizing how stupid he sounded. he glanced over at jin who was visibly cringing, clearly sharing similar thoughts with his younger friend. "I just could sit by and watch him hurt you."

"What and you thought this wouldn't hurt me?" yn asked, her head falling to the side slightly. she felt so much pain in that moment for so many reasons. "How long?"

"Not that long, really,"

"How long, Jeongguk." yn demanded, her voice raising slightly. jin was watching everything unfold nervously, not sure where this was heading. he wanted to speak up but his mouth seemed to be glued shut.

"Since the first week of school." jeongguk said quietly, hanging his head, not able to meet yn's eyes.

"It's my fault, I wouldn't let him tell you yn, I made him promise." jin finally said in attempts to take some of the heat off the younger boy. the fire in yn's eyes when they met his told him that he'd probably done more damage than helped.

"Oh he promised? Well okay then. I guess I'll forgive the fact that my best friend of eight years found out how my parents died and didn't tell me. I'll just get over him knowing how hard it's been for me going on not knowing anything about them besides a handful of vague details, knowing how lost I've felt my whole life, and still choosing not to tell me because he made a promise to a guy he had just met."  yn's anger progressed with every second. she had never been so mad at jeongguk in her life, she'd never been so mad at anyone. how could he do this to her? how could he walk around knowing the one thing she longed to know and choose not to tell her? "God, I don't even know who you are anymore. You know I've been so upset because it's clear to me that we've been growing apart and I was so torn up thinking I was losing you, but now? I wouldn't bat an eye if I never saw you again."

"Yn, please don't say that, you don't, you don't mean that you're just mad." jeongguk pleaded, his voice cracking in fear. he hoped that he was right but somewhere not so deep down he knew he was probably wrong. jin felt his own heart break for his two friends, he couldn't help but blame himself in all of this. if he had just kept what he knew to himself jeongguk wouldn't have been betraying yn to begin with. or if he had just told her himself neither of them would be this hurt. he thought he was doing the right thing but seeing yn's cold eyes staring into jeongguk's pleading ones was proof that he'd completely fucked up.

"No Jeongguk I'm not 'just mad'. I'm hurt, I feel betrayed. Over the last eight years we've been in a handful of arguments, and each one I've forgiven you if you were the one in the wrong but this time, no. This is the last time you lie to me, and don't you dare say you didn't lie because I flat out asked you if you'd heard anything about my parents when I found out they were from different factions and you said no." by now the tears jeongguk had been keeping in had pushed their way past the dam he'd built up. yn was right, he'd betrayed her. he ruined their friendship and there was likely no going back. "You should go, I want you to go. Both of you."

yn could feel the rage coursing through her veins and the longer she looked at them the worse it got. jeongguk had seen this look before, once upon a time he was the sole person that could pull her back down from these fits, now he was the one causing it.

"Yn please I,"

"I said go!" yn snapped, her voice along with her hands slamming down on the table was comparable to a clap of thunder. unintentionally she sent every book in the library flying off the shelves. jin's feet were moving faster than his mind, his invisibility spell breaking as soon as he turned away. jeongguk was frozen in place, his heart breaking at the sight of his best friends pain. her eyes burned with anger and sadness as she continued to scream and tear the room apart. he knew this was his fault. he forced himself to watch the teacher detain her with a spell and carry her out of the room not even registering the second one coming in to drag him behind them, this was his fault.

[meow-bebe]

Skate Date

Pairing: Stray Kids, Yang Jeongin x reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Minor cussing but you should expect that by now, i swear a lot

Word Count: 1603

Gender: Neutral reader

A/n: Happy late birthday fox boy! I really wanted to post this yesterday but it didn't really happen. Anyway here's this though! Most of the skat terminology is stuff I've picked up from hanging out at the rink a lot and my friend who skates as well as like two things I needed to Google. Sorry the ending is trash, and also it's slightly unedited. But! I passed 1k for the first time! This doesn't seem like a huge achievement but I've only ever managed to write about 600 word before this but it's getting easier now! I'm hoping to write more often so if all goes well you'll see more of me and my overuse of commas in the coming weeks!

~~~

“Come on, Innie!” you called, screeching to a halt in front of the bench where your boyfriend was currently sitting.

“No I don’t think I will,” he said, setting his folded hands on top of the railing separating him from the ice rink, “you look like you’re having fun, and I’ll just slow you down.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you said, “And when has that ever stopped you before? I remember a certain date when you dragged out shopping for so long we didn’t have time to go to the museum and then acted like you didn’t do it on purpose because you think museums are boring.” 

“I didn’t!” he protested, “but that’s beside the point. I’m going to fall on my ass and make a fool of myself and I don’t particularly care to be covered in suspicious looking bruises for dance practice tomorrow.” 

Sighing, you placed your hand on top of his. “Jeongin, everybody falls their first time. I even fall every now and then to this day!” 

“That’s because you have horrible balance,” he retorted, and you scowled at him. 

“My point was that you’ve never been skating before, so of course you’re not going to be great at it your first try. You’ll be okay if you fall, if we’re not going very fast it’s extremely unlikely you’ll get hurt.” You squeezed his hand comfortingly under yours. “And honestly, would you rather have to explain a few inconveniently placed bruises or the fact that you decided to sit here and keep the bench warm and watch me skate for two hours because you were worried you wouldn’t be a world class figure skater the first time you set foot on the ice?” 

You cocked your head saucily, and he grumbled “Fine, I’ll try it,” in response. You offered him your hand, and taking it, he wobbled to his feet. 

“There you go!” you cheered sarcastically, “you’re standing up!” Met with his disgruntled glare, you softened, asking, “Are your skates tight enough? I tried to make sure you got them laced well but we don’t want your ankles wobbling around.” 

“I think they’re okay,” he said, tilting his feet this way and that, “they feel pretty tight.”

Guiding Jeongin towards the exit to the rink, you asked, “Do they wiggle in the skates? You should be able to move your ankles but not inside your skates.” He started moving his ankles again, experimenting to try and figure out what you meant. 

“They feel fine,” he said, just as you brought him to the juncture between the rink and benches. 

“Good!” You took his other hand in yours as well. “Now just step down. Go slow, I’ve got you,” you reassured. Maybe you were going to scold and tease him about his slightly irrational worry of being terrible, but you were also going to do your best to make sure he didn’t have much to worry about. 

“Okay so now that you’re on the ice, you need to find the balance of your skates, or the flat part you can glide best on. Just shift back and forth until you find the place where you can move smoothly.” You helped guide him slightly as he gingerly shifted his weight around. “It’ll probably be farther back than you think, that makes room for the toepick to not scrape against the ice.” 

After a moment, he seemed to have found where he needed to be. “Okay, I think I’ve got it,” he looked up from his skates, “what now?” 

“Now we skate!” you said, letting go of one of his hands and slowly starting to move forward. He seemed to panic for a moment, but soon found a slightly broken and wobbly rhythm beside you. 

“There you go!” you said, grinning happily at him, “you’re moving!”

“Yay,” he said halfheartedly, glancing down at his feet again. “Now, quick question. How does one skate? Cause I’m pretty sure this - ” he demonstrated the way that he was using the toepick to push one foot forward and then gliding a small amount forward before repeating - “isn’t how you do it.”

“No, not quite,” you laughed. “It’s a little bit difficult to explain, but to start you’re going to push off with one foot and glide on the other.” You demonstrated, letting go of Jeongin to skate a small distance in front of him. He shuffled forwards, doing his best to keep his balance and stay within a distance that he could see your small movements. “Once you’ve lost momentum, transfer your weight back to the other foot and glide on that one. Alternate your movements, and you’re skating!” Once again, you followed up your explanation by showing him how to execute the movements, but this time you didn’t stop. You continued to skate forwards for a moment, showing Jeongin how the movements feel when connected before turning around and circling back to your still slightly struggling boyfriend. 

“How are you so good at this?” Jeongin asked, slipping a little and grabbing at the wall to stay upright. 

“Oh Jeongin,” you said, pulling him upright and grasping his hand in yours, “I’ve been skating since I was young. Talent comes with practice.” 

He tentatively pushed forward, and with a nod of encouragement from you, began to shakily glide his way across the ice. 

“There you go!” you exclaimed happily, “You’re doing it!” You tried your best to keep an even pace next to Jeongin, but he kept having to ask you to slow down as you weren’t used to moving at such a slow speed. The two of you made a few rounds of the rink with little accident (you lost your balance and fell over while bending down to retrieve a little girl’s fallen glove as Jeongin laughed at you because you had fallen before he even had the chance) and small conversation was held between bouts of your reminding Jeongin not to propel himself using the toepick. 

“I think I’m going to sit down for a minute,” Jeongin said, turning to skate towards the edge of the rink where the benches are located. “My feet are starting to hurt.” 

“That’s probably a good idea,” you said, beginning to weave through the other skaters surrounding you, Jeongin’s hand still clasped securely in yours. Coming to a stop, you let go of his hand so that Jeongin could hold onto the railing and clamber up into the closed off bench area. 

“Alright,” you said, folding your arms securely across your chest and leaning against the railing, “If you don’t mind I’m going to skate around a little more while you take a break.”

“Please do. You know where to find me,” he said, smiling sweetly at you. “Have fun!” he called after you as you began to skate away. 

“Oh, you know I will!” you called lightheartedly back. 

Jeongin watched as you gained speed, dodging between the other people making their way around the rink, most moving a little slower than you. Upon reaching the corner, you executed a few flawless crossovers, a grace that you could never seem to find off the ice taking your body and propelling you across the ice in smooth, beautiful movements. Jeongin was entranced, eyes tracking your figure as you glided around the rink, lost in the way that your hair ruffled slightly and the excited little grin that lit up your face every time you got your crossovers right. He would have been more than happy to sit there until open skate ended, just watching you skate in endless circles. 

You seemed to have other ideas though, as you cut across the ice, coming to an abrupt halt in front of Jeongin, a spray of shaved ice hitting the wall. 

“Show off,” he said, voice full of affection. 

“You love watching me do stuff like that, admit it.” You leaned onto the railing, bringing your face closer to the boy in front of you. 

“Maybe a little bit,” he teased back.

“Knew it!” you laughed. “Come back out with me, you were doing so well earlier.” 

“I might actually sit here and watch you for the rest of the time. There’s only -” he glanced at the timer counting down the minutes of skate time left - “around fifteen minutes left.” 

“Aww, Jeongin,” you whined, “I didn’t bring you here to watch me skate the whole time.”

“You didn’t bring me here at all,” Jeongin retorted, playful contempt tugging at his voice, “I was the one who suggested this. And for the most part, I just wanted to watch you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “That’s cute, but does this mean that the whole ‘I want to be involved in something that you love’ spiel was a lie?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, grabbing your hand and squeezing it,  “it was. Wobbling around like an idiot isn’t the most fun, but watching you skate is so much better. You’re really good, and opposed to your usual clumsiness -” you slapped at his shoulder lightly in mock irritation - “you’re really graceful and beautiful and it’s amazing to watch.” 

His compliments flustered you, but instead of letting him know that, you just tugged at his hand. “Come on, let’s go skate again.” Jeongin relented after a moment of encouragement (which he would call harassment) and the two of you were soon back out on the ice, hands twined together as you skated backwards, dragging a giggling, wobbly Jeongin behind you. No matter how much he argued and denied that he was having fun, Jeongin was really enjoying himself, both just watching you and skating himself.