#i love love love ray i'm so sad we bumped him off but it was just too good....

[crownedinmarigolds]

Fangfest 2024 - Day Seventeen - The Tower

Raymond Mulder, former detective turned hunter after more than enough rough run-ins with the Supernatural. Got a Kinfolk girlfriend and soon her abusive Garou ex attacked and permanently scarred him, his former boss forced to commit suicide in front of him after it was revealed that the vampire shadow government was running the Chicago PD. Formally the most normal normie you could meet, he tried to at least face the dark as nobly and as rationally as he could. Monsters were monsters - hell, a lot of "regular" humans fit this category too - but not every single one needed to be met with a violent hand.

The Tower is a card that represents an almost violent upheaval, a change in situation, destruction, catastrophe. Raymond's existence was forever changed the second he had made the decision to rid the world of just two more Kindred...

[brokenmelodies07]

"You are my sunshine"

Summary - To Jeno, Haechan was his entire world. Whenever Jeno was struggling, it was Haechan that saved him. But now, when it's Heachan that needs saving, Jeno is helpless.

Warnings - a little bit of gun activity and violence at the end

Author's Note - thank you to @remiilurai for helping me with the fic!

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray," a sweet voice sang, filling the dark and dusty room with a sense of warmth.

"Yo, Jeno! Where are you, dude?"

"Go away. I'm not in the mood to talk now, Haechan."

"Oh, come on. You love me, you need me, you miss me."

"No, I don't. Get lost, man."

"Fine. Then, I love you."

"A horrible decision, really."

The boy with the chocolate brown hair, who Jeno dearly called Hyuck, walked in the dark, to the corner of the room, to find a lump of blankets.

"Found you!" Haechan cried, jumping on the lump, receiving a shout and a kick to the legs.

"You know you can't escape me, right?"

"I'm a trained killer, Hyuck. I think I can escape you if wanted to."

Jeno was tired. Not just physically, but mentally, emotionally and even spiritually, even though he didn't believe in God. He's always thought, if we believe in a good God, then why is there so much evil in the world? But now was not the time for deep philosophical thinking. He needed to cut off Haechan. He didn't want to, but he needed to. For his own safety.

He loved him. He loved him to bits. It was Haechan that brought light into his life. It was him that saved Jeno from himself. Haechan, for him, was his angel.

"Hey, sunshine. You're awfully quiet."

That snapped Jeno out of his thoughts.

"Huh? What?"

"You blanked out there for a second, Jen. I almost hit you with a pillow."

"Yeah, sorry about that, was just thinking about something."

"Hey, you're my bestie, you're my little ball of sunshine, you can count on this bad boy for anything, bro."

"Call me that again and you won't feel the sun on your skin again, Haechan."

No sooner did the words leave his mouth, Haechan jumped on him and proceeded to hug him and tickle him. God, did he love this idiot.

Jeno met Haechan when he was 9. After being hit for bringing home a stray cat, Jeno had run away with his new little friend and bumped straight into Haechan. Being his extroverted self, Haechan introduced himself, asked Jeno his name and then took him to his home. Haechan's home was Jeno's true home. It was his safe space. That day Jeno left his cat there and went back every day with the excuse of having to take care of the cat.

Haechan was always there for him. Haechan stayed. He never left Jeno, no matter his ups or downs. He was consistent, in his friendship, love and support. Haechan was his rock, his anchor, he was as Haechan called himself his 'platonic soulmate'.

Being a part of a gang was not Jeno's idea. It was his Dad's. His Dad who bet his son to work as a killer when he had nothing else to bet on. His Dad who made it impossible for Jeno to pay off the debts without continuing to be a killer. In Jeno's gloomy and misty life, Haechan was a ray of sunshine and of hope. Haechan was Jeno's family. The only family that mattered to him. To Jeno, DNA doesn't make family, love does, trust does and support does.

Haechan had saved Jeno multiple times. He saved Jeno from addiction, from killing himself, from his anger, from his sadness, from everything that was him.

Now, it was Jeno's turn to save him.

"Jenoooooo. Jenooo. Jeno!"

"What?"

"Nothing, you just zoned out there for a second again."

"Don't you have something useful to go instead of annoying me, Hyuck?"

"Nah, man. Annoying you is useful. It makes you wanna kill me and you know me, I like that kinda attention."

"Don't say that, you don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, anyways, I actually do have some work to attend to, gotta go annoy Renjun into giving me the notes from yesterday's class. I won't be sleeping over for the next two days, by the way, Mom's scared I'm gonna fail my exams, but because I know that you can't live without me, I'll try sneaking out! Bye, Jen! See you!"

"Goodbye, Hyuck"

This was it. Haechan wouldn't be over for two nights. He could leave town. He could make Haechan safe. This was it.

In the next 12 hours, Jeno packed all his belongings, cut all his relations and sold his apartment. Jeno had just finished one of the biggest jobs he had ever taken. He knew that they would come for him, for his family and the only family he cared for was Haechan. So he had to distance himself from Haechan, for his own safety. He should, he must.

Jeno moved five cities, just to be safe. He believed that the more far he moved, the more safe Haechan would be. And he knew that Hacehan wouldn't look for him. He had done this a lot of times. Haechan was pretty used to this by now. Sure, Jeno had never moved five cities before, but these people were some of the worst and Haechan needed to be safe. It was his duty to protect him after all that Haechan did for him. He just had to wait for a month and then he could take Haechan away, to a new place, to live as normal people, to get a house, a job, to have a regular order at the coffee shop, to have neighbours, to find love, to raise a family, all by Haechan at his side. The city had moved to was perfect for that. He had rented a cabin by the river, in the outskirts of the city, for the month. It was this beautiful place with a garden and a swing and everything. He could already imagine leading a perfect life there.

Jeno took an entire day setting up the cabin. As soon as he finished up, he hit the hay for that well deserved sleep. For the next day, Jeno had planned a few things, like going to the coffeeshop and introducing himself, buying flowers for the house and plants and tools for the garden. He was ready to finally relax.

Drinking his freshly rewed coffee, Jeno strolled up the hill to his cabin, stopping here and there, to pick wild flowers. On reaching the cabin, he stopped to find his keys, but stopped upon hearing a creak from inside. It's an old cabin, Jeno thought, the floorwork must be acting up.

No sooner had he stepped into the cabin, his vision went black.

After a few minutes, which for Jeno felt like hours, he woke up, with a pounding headache and blood fallind down his face. He panicked. His anxiety rose. He tensed. There's no way. They couldn't have found him so fast. He was so careful, so, so careful. Then, how?

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Prince, himself"

Jeno knew that voice. All those horrible memories flooded back. He wanted to run, run from this man who made him into the monster that he was today. He wanted to be as far from his father as possible.

"Well, son? Nothing to tell your dear old father after all these year?"

"Get lost again, will you?" Jeno spat.

"Hmm. Not the response I expected, but maybe this may encourage you a bit. Bring him!"

There was a shuffle. Two men entered. One wore all black, but the other. The other had converse with the sun drawn on them. No, he didn't know about Haechan. How could he? No, God, plase, no. No.

"Haechan, was it, kid?"

"Not your freaking business, Grandpa. Jen, who is this clown? He's been talking shit for hours."

Jeno couldn't muster up his courage to face Haechan. He knew what was coming. He couldn't find his voice.

"It's, it's him, Hyuck, it's him"

"Hyuck? Really? God, you're just like your mother, so emotional, so full of feelings."

"Please don't hurt him, I'll do anything, please, just please, leave him alone."

"Oh, Jeno, you should have thought about the consequences of killing my business partner, then. Do you know how much I lost? Because of your foolishness? Your greed for money? I told you to join my gang so many times, yet you didn't and now here we are."

"Jen, what's he talking about?"

"Oh, it's nothing you need to worry about, kid. It's father son business. Now, Jeno, I'm going t show you the consequences for your actions. Your stupidity already killed your mother, now you friend, too. Now that he'll be gone, too. Why don't you come work for me. Maybe, I'll even pay you back for all the debts. What say, huh?"

"Not a chance, you filthy piece of shit! You think you can just waltz back into his life and make him do your bidding, well, I've got news for you"

"Agh, you've got quit mouth on you kid, I don't like it. Do it."

As soon as the door was closed behind Jeno's dad, the man on Haechan's left pulled out a gun, shooting Haechan in the stomach, right where it should kill him.

"NOOOOOOOO! PLEASE, GOD, NO, NOT HIM, PLEASE! HYUCK! HUCK!"

The man threw the gun to the side, and untied Jeno, making him run to his friend, taking him in his arms.

"Boss wants an answer in 10"

The two men closed the doors behind them. Jeno couldn't see straight. It was his fault. All his fault, Haechan was injured, he couldn't help him. It was all him. It was always him.

"Hey, Jen" croaked Haechan, trying to sit himself up straight.

"Hyuck, I'm sorry. It's my fault. I'm sorry. I'm sorry"

"Yo, I love you, man. I've always loved you and I will always love you, okay? You're my little ball of sunshine, you're my best friend, man"

"Yeah, I love you, too"

"Finally! I've been waiting for years for you to say that. Now be a good friend and sing me a song, Jen"

"Huck, no, I'm sorry, this is because of me. I shouldn't have talked to you. I should've moved more far. It's my fault you're like this."

"Hey, you and I both know that it isn't your fault, my time's over, that's all. Now, sing me a song, I don't want to die like this, it's not a very good story to tell, sing me our song, Jen, one last time"

Jeno couldn't, but he wanted to, he wanted to sing that song, that song that he so closely associated with Haechan. He wanted to sing it for the last time.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are gray

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away"

Jeno sang, he sang his heart out, he sang for his friend, for the only person who loved him.

"The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping

I dreamed I held you in my arms

When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken

So I hung my head and cried"

Haechan had a smile on his face. His eyes were closing, but he still hummed to the song. Jeno took the gun in his hands. The humming stopped. He put the gun to his chest, right where the heart should be.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are gray

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away"

[mintugiyuu]

> here’s the final part of your request @kyojoroo ! I’m so sorry it’s in two different parts, but I learned for the first time that these text boxes have a limit lmao, again I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night! <3

༄ we have to stop meeting like this - continued

sfw one-shot

➥ pairing || rengoku kyojurou x reader

➥ au || modern day; college

➥ warnings || cheesy, tooth-rotting fluff with extra cheese

➥ synopsis || the reader keeps bumping into the one and only rengoku kyojurou; only instead of just casually seeing him over and over again, they quite literally bump into him in the most inconvenient ways possible. (cont.)

➥ part one || click here!

༄ the mediterranean sea collection - masterlist

Today had to be one of the worst days in your life. Freezing, drenched, and newly homeless, you tucked yourself onto the bus stop bench. Lucky you, this one didn't even have an awning to protect you from the elements.

The rain had no pity for your predicament as it pelted your body, the light clothing doing close to nothing for you. Summer had just come, yet the night rainfall seemed to have brought an unexpected chill.

Not to mention the suitcase and duffle bag you had with you were now also getting soaked.

You could only hope nothing was too waterlogged.

Your hand did little to protect your dying phone from getting wet as you tried to search for the nearest place to stay. Motel, hotel, air B'N'B; anything in range to get you off the streets for the night.

You had a feeling this would happen, and boy were kicking yourself for not seeing the red flags and preparing sooner.

Not having enough savings for a dorm, you had signed a contract with the residents of an apartment to rent out one of the rooms for cheap.

The agreement only lasted for two semesters, but they had promised that you'd be able to renew it once summer rolled around.

"Promise my ass." You grumbled, remembering how the original owner had gotten a partner. In return, they refused to let you sign another contract so they would have space for the "love of their life".

You saw the signs; you saw how their stuff slowly moved into the apartment and all the time they were spending there.

You just didn't think they'd be shitty enough people to kick you out the moment your contract ended.

A gust of icy wind rolled through, causing another shudder to rack your body. The closest place wasn't in walking distance, and it was far to late for the buses to be running. Sighing, you shut off your phone and closed your eyes.

You had resigned yourself to walk the several blocks to the nearest 24/7 fast food place to at least get out of the rain.

That was until the rain fall suddenly stopped beating down on you. The rain couldn't have stopped though, you could still hear it. You blinked your eyes open and looked up, surprised to what - or more accurately, who - you saw.

"...Kyojurou?"

Standing there in all his warmth and glory, Kyojurou looked down at you with concern, holding a bright red umbrella over your soaked form.

He couldn't seem to help the small smile that graced his lips at the sound of his first name.

"I'd be happier that you finally used my name if you didn't look so sad and drenched."

A humorless snort escaped your lips as you hugged yourself, shivering slightly. "Timing always has my side doesn't it? I'm just about to head to the closest food place to get out of the rain, so don't worry about it."

"Why?"

"I got kicked out," you shrugged, looking to the ground.

"This late at night?"

"It surprised me too. They found a new roommate and wouldn't let me renew my contract for the next school year, and it just so happens it ended tonight." There was a hint of bitterness in your tone, one that was completely understandable.

Kyojurou's brows furrowed. "They didn't give you a heads up? A two week notice?"

"I'm just lucky they let me pack all of my stuff before I had to leave." You continued to look down at the ground, not seeing the way Kyojurou's face contorted ever so slightly.

He didn't get mad often, but whoever your old roommates are were now on his shit list

"Well that's a shitty thing to do," he stated bluntly, causing you to sputter and blink dumbly at him.

It's been almost a year since you've met the blonde, and in all that time you never once heard him say a single bad word.

"Did you just curse??"

He pretended not to hear, pulling out his own phone to see the time as you mulled over the fact that this sweet ray of sunshine just called someone shitty.

Expression neutralizing as he schemed, he turned back to you. "You don't have to stay in a fast food place for the night."

"Huh?? Are you suggesting I sleep in a box?"

The man smiled, resting a reassuring hand on top of your shoulder, frustration forgotten for now. "You can stay with me!"

"What now?"

Chuckling, he passed the umbrella off to you to hold, beginning to slip his arms out of the jacket he wore. "You can stay with me for the time being until you get back on your feet! Well, us. If you wanted to of course! Sanemi just moved out, so we're looking for a new one regardless."

Baffled at the sudden offer, you started to shake your head, forming the words to decline him. It was too big of a favor, how could you accept that?

He was one step ahead of you, as he always is.

"Before you say anything, no, it would not be any trouble, you're a joy to have around! We can settle the nitty gritty later, let's just get you out of the cold."

"Wait, Kyojurou," you were silenced by a heavy warmth that suddenly engulfed your upper body, including your sight. Moving the fabric from your eyes, you realized it was his jacket.

His once dry clothes was slowly becoming just as soaked as you were as he took back the umbrella, insistently keeping it solely above you.

The gentle way he smiled in combination with the light post that shined behind his head had you convinced he was your guardian angel in disguise.

You hesitantly pulled the jacket closer to your body, not being able to deny how relieving the warmth felt. "But, won't you be cold?"

"My insides are practically pocket heaters, it takes a lot for me to be cold. A little wind and rain won't do anything to me, I promise! Now come on, before you get sick," he insisted as he grabbed your bag, throwing them over his shoulder.

"Little" was an understatement, but you didn't have the energy to argue. It was the middle of the night and you could feel your eyes starting to droop.

Grabbing your luggage to role behind, you let the other wrap his free arm around your form, hand resting on your arm. "Thank you, truly I don't know where to start showing how grateful I am. I owe you big time."

"Never refer to me as Rengoku-san again and I'll call it even!"

A wobbly smile tugged at your lips as you leaned into his side, letting him guide you down the route to his apartment. "You have a deal then, Kyojurou."

The weather broadcasters warned everyone about heavy snowfall, but you couldn’t help but think they could’ve prepared everyone a bit more as you stared out your window and could only see the shadow of snow.

Thank the gods above it was winter break or they’d have to cancel classes, which would just be tuition money flushed down the shitter.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door of the bedroom you were in, which was odd because the door was open.

Low and behold, it was your sweetheart of a boyfriend, holding two mugs and using his foot to knock. “I brought hot coco!”

"You don't have to knock, this is your room you dork."

"Our room technically, my dear." He responded smoothly, shutting the door with his foot behind him as he made his way to you.

"Careful not to spill it," he winked, laughing slightly as he handed you your mug.

"Just for that I should," you scoffed playfully, sticking your tongue out at him as you took the drink. The smile on his face was nothing but adoring, finding you to be adorable. You had to look away to dismiss the butterflies that swarmed in your tummy. “Looks like we’re snowed in for a bit. The snow is above the windows.”

Kyojurou hummed in agreement. “I still don’t understand how tiny snowflakes can become so damaging so fast!”

“You’re funny,” you chuckled, taking a sip of the hot beverage. Kyojurou always made the best hot chocolate.

“... UME! I’m glad I can be amusing!” You couldn't hold down the snort at the realization that he wasn't joking, swallowing and shaking your head. You granted him mercy and switched the subject.

“What are the others up to?”

Kyojurou leaned against the sill next to you, shoulder bumping yours affectionately. “Tengen is in the living room playing video games with his girlfriends, Mitsuri is watching a movie in her room and Obanai is watching with her. I think she's also painting his nails from the conversation I overheard while passing by."

“I see.”

The both of you were leaning against the window sill, basking in the comfortable silence. It wasn't common in an apartment full of unique roommates.

Even now you both could hear the loud victory cheer of Suma as Tengen groaned in defeat.

Taking another sip of your drink, you hummed, lifting your head to face Kyojurou. You were going to say something, but that was forgotten as you covered your mouth with your fingers as to not laugh suddenly.

"Hm? Is something wrong?" Your poor oblivious lover had a whipped cream mustache. He tilted his head at you - not unlike an owl - seemingly confused to your sudden shift in expression. You swallowed your laughter down as you placed your drink onto the sill, stepping closer to the blonde.

"No, nothing's wrong. You just have a little something rigghtt..." you reached out to grip his chin gently, swiping your thumb across his top lip to collect the whipped cream. "-there, all gone!"

A pretty, bright red color spread across Kyojurou’s face, wide eyes blinking owlishly at you with his mouth slightly agape. Laughing quietly at his reaction, you licked the cream off your thumb, patting the side of his cheek teasingly.

"You'll catch flies, hun." A click of teeth could be heard as he closed his mouth.

"RIGHT!" He stopped himself to clear his throat, turning to face the window as his usual smile reappeared, though a bit wobbly. "Thank you!"

All you did was hum, a slight mischievous smirk settling onto your face. You were set to happily go back to your drink when you shivered, the chill of the room finally reaching you through your clothes.

Kyojurou caught it from the corner of his eye, turning back to you. “Are you cold?”

You waved him off, shaking your head. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, you'll just get another sweatshirt.

“I’ll be ok. The hot coco will warm me up in- WOAH!” That plan was thrown out the window when he suddenly scooped you up into his broad arms, smiling determinedly.

"You're not allowed to just continue on being cold, not if I can help it!" The firey man plopped you down onto your shared bed, quickly gathering the collection of fluffy blankets you have accumulated over time.

In the blink of an eye, you were neatly swaddled in said blankets and being held gently to your boyfriend's warm chest. He settled underneath the main blanket, wrapping his strong arms around your body.

“Is that better?” He beamed at you, looking oh so proud of himself.

What did you do to deserve him?

"Much," you all but groaned, snuggling your face into the warmth of his chest. It was like cuddling a big warm marshmallow. “I still can’t understand how you’re so warm.”

“I’m a living-breathing heater, my dear. I’ve explained this before, I’m sure of it.”

You snorted, leaning into his hand as he began to run his fingers through your hair. “I’m not complaining, you’re good to keep around for whenever my hands freeze.”

“I wouldn’t mind one bit," his voice came out softly, planting a warm kiss to onto your forehead. This in turn caused you to melt even further into him, burying your face into his shirt.

Kyojurou laughed with amusement as he turned on the television, looking for something for the two of you to watch for the rest of the evening. You eventually peaked your head out to look at him, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Hey, Kyojurou?”

“Yes?”

All of his attention was on you. Even in these small moments he looks at you as though you're the most precious human being in the world. And to him, you were.

You hummed, placing a kiss onto his chin. “I’m happy I spilled my drink all over you.”

The small peck had similar effects from the whipped cream incident earlier, though he seemed to snap out of it quicker this time. He smiled brighter, cupping your cheek with his large, warm hand.

“That's an odd way of saying I love you."

This made you pause, the 'L-word' not being used between the two of you yet. “Wait, what?"

He gave you no time to question further as he placed a kiss onto your lips in return, his other hand finding the small of your back to pull you closer.

The initial shock of being kissed faded quickly, your arms finding their way around his neck as you pulled yourself closer. The kiss was short and sweet, yet the passion that Kyojurou lived by was always present.

The kiss came to a pause with you laying on top of his chest, remote forgotten and blankets wrapped around you as you steadied your breathing.

Kyojurou's eyes crinkled slightly with his smile, brushing the back of his hand across your cheek.

"I love you too."

[babylooneytoonz]

the Vessel [ Pt. 12 ]

pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

summary: When Calanthe tries to separate you from Geralt, you finally decide to take matters into your own hand and fight for what is yours. And your baby's.

warnings: 18+ smut and a lot of fluff

[My Masterlist] [My Witcher Masterlist - Read the other parts here!]

You woke up to a ray of sunlight falling right across your face, for a massive window was just right next to where the bed was. It still took you a full minute to completely open your eyes.

You smiled to yourself, when you heard the faint rise and fall of the man's chest next to you, and you turned to your side, your eyes falling on his peaceful form.

He looked peaceful, his hair messy and all over his face. He had an arm tucked around your waist still, and yet even in his sleep, the hold he had on you was light.

You rolled over, only slightly so that you were completely glued to him, listening to him stir from his sleep, and slowly, open his drowsy eyes.

"Morning, my love," you whispered to him, bringing your palm up to cup his cheeks, your thumb stroking gently over.

A faint smile crossed his lips; and his hand came to rest against your waist. In one tug, he pulled you into him, his firm body pressing against yours as he brought his lips to yours, kissing you softly.

You moaned in a low voice, Geralt's morning erection, like a hard rock, pressed to your core; his steady grinding into you causing your core to ache, "Geralt—"

"Hm?" He chuckled in his low, morning raspy voice, still grinding into you.

"Don't tell me I didn't warn you, Witcher," you playfully smacked him across his chest, and his eyebrow shot up in question; but before he could even reply, you were already climbing up on his lap, straddling him and his hard cock.

His head fell back against the pillow, and a groan left his lips. His hand came to rest on either of your hips, as he gripped you tight.

In a really painfully slow move, you went down on him, until his thickness completely filled you up, stretching you up bit by bit. You looked down at Geralt in his eyes, and he looked at you, as you began rolling your hips, riding the Witcher.

"Fuck," Geralt cursed, as you stopped your movements all together, and suddenly, began rolling your hips once again, feeling Geralt almost squirm underneath you.

When Geralt felt that you were tiring, he suddenly flipped you around, and you coiled your feet around his waist, as he continued to ravage you, pulling his slick coated cock out completely, before slamming hard into you. Your nails ripped through the flesh on his back, your nails dragging over his flesh, as you arched your back and let out a low pitched moan, driving the Witcher crazy.

This time, neither of you lasted long; and you finally exploded, stars in your eyes, as your pussy clenched around his cock, and a sudden electric current shot through your body as your orgasm took over, leaving you trembling and shaking. This was enough to push the Witcher over the edge; his movements had become sloppier, his thrusts dragged but it didn't take long for him to mutter a curse under his breath, his cock twitching once before his hot seed spilt inside of you.

You groaned against Geralt's sweaty forehead against yours; your fingers threading delicately through the Witcher's locks as he slumped in bed next to you. You could feel his breaths on you, and it took you a moment for the realization to sink in that Geralt was actually leaving for a while.

He noticed the lost look in your eyes, and he propped himself up on his elbow, looking at you.

"Say it," he chastised you.

You sighed, letting your hand rest against your growing bump, tenderly rubbing circles over it.

"When will you be back, Geralt?" You bit your lip.

A faint smile crossed over his otherwise stoic features. He leaned forward, so his face was above yours, his eyes gazing into yours with utmost tenderness.

"I thought you hated my company."

"That's not true," you protested, sitting up and rubbing your eyes with the balls of your palms, "I just didn't like you back then. Things are different now. I realized you aren't what you show others to be."

He nodded and leaned forward so he could kiss you, but before he could, there was a loud knock on your wooden door.

You glared from him towards the door that was pounding.

"Aunt [Y/N]?!"

"This is why I prefer the woods. No early morning visitors," Geralt said in a gruff voice, and laid back down casually. You smacked him hard against his chest and he growled at you in retaliation.

"GERALT, HIDE. YOU CANT BE FOUND HERE. YOU KNOW HOW MOTHER IS—"

"You want me to hide?" He looked at you in disbelief, his jaw almost hanging loosely.

You gave him the most innocent puppy dog eyes and Geralt couldn't help but groan. You were irresistible like that.

"Please, Geralt—"

"Aunt [Y/N] ? Are you alright?" Ciri called out from outside.

"Yes, Cirilla, give me a moment, I'll be right out, love," you called out, and you turned towards Geralt, quickly tossing him his shirt. You motioned towards him with your fingers to quickly get dressed, but he just smirked at you, intentionally leaping off the bed at a pace of a snail's.

"Geralt, can you hurry up?" You snapped as you pulled the covers off your body and began pulling your slip over your head. You could feel Geralt's gaze over your form and you sighed, in frustration, "Geralt."

"Then stop distracting me," He smirked, moving round the bed towards you, his eyes hungry and clouded with lust. He pushed you to the wall, placing both his hands on either side of your head as he ran his thick, beefy fingers under your slip, until he was cupping your breasts.

To be fair, Geralt couldn't keep his hands off you ever since you had let him close. He had been fighting off these feelings for too long now and ever since he had seen you grow his baby in your belly, your belly swelling up as the time passed, his feelings for you grew, warmth filling up his otherwise cold heart.

"Geralt, we can't, Ciri is right outside—"

"She must have left by now. You didn't open the door," he took your taut nipple into his two fingers, pinching them and you winced, in pain and pleasure mix, letting the back of your head rest against the wall.

"You're so beautiful with my child inside you," Geralt placed his palm on your belly, rolling your slip up so he could see your bump. He smiled at how round and beautiful you looked, nurturing his baby.

Suddenly there was a knock again.

"Aunt [Y/N]? Are you okay?"

"Well, fuck," Geralt groaned in annoyance and you couldn't help but give him a toothy grin. You reached up on your toes so you could give a quick peck to his lips, "Geralt, please!!" You pleaded and Geralt groaned in annoyance, turning away as his eyes scanned your bedroom, until he saw a bannister in the other end of the room. He walked up to it, pushing himself behind it. You took a deep breath and straightened your slip, unlocking the door.

"Aunt [Y/N]. I was starting to get worried," Ciri stepped into your room, eyeing you, and your clothes carefully.

"Sorry, I sort of overslept? Anyway, is everything okay?" You asked, nervously running your hand through your hair.

"I just wanted to let you know grandmother wants you to get dressed in your best tonight, there's a few special guests arriving, just to see you."

You raised your eyebrow, frowning slightly, "Guests?"

"I wish I knew."

"Thanks Ciri," You smiled and placed your palm on her shoulder, squeezing it tight.

The little girl nodded at you, her blue eyes twinkling as she gave you a small smile back. She turned around and began walking through the door. She paused when she reached the door, and smirked slightly, biting her lip, "Aunt [Y/N], I'd wear a scarf tonight if I were you," she winked, and ran away.

Geralt couldn't help but let out a snort once she had left.

At first you didn't understand what she meant by it, but once she was gone, Geralt stepped out of his hiding spot and you gave him a confused look. He cleared his throat, and slowly placed both hands on your shoulders, turning you around to face the body size mirror and you looked at the countless darkening bruises you had on your body, from where Geralt had sucked against your flesh.

Flustered you buried your hands in your face, "You could have told me you did that Geralt. To hell now with the whole plan of keeping this discreet."

"I would have rather stayed in the palace here with you, [Y/N]—" Jaskier whined in protest, swinging a sack that he was holding across his shoulder, while Geralt just grunted in response to his words and you shook your head. You were walking in the middle of the two of them, Geralt on your right and Jaskier on your left.

"Jaskier, I need you to go with Geralt," you whispered. Geralt rolled his eyes but he didn't argue. He had already had this discussion with you. He had wanted Jaskier to stay with you but you insisted that you wouldn't be able to stop worrying about him anyhow and it would make you feel better if Jaskier accompanied him, although you ones that if they were in some sort of danger, Geralt would have to protect Jaskier's ass and it definitely wouldn't be vice versa. But Geralt had finally relented and agreed.

"You know he can take care of himself, you're making me miss on the palace life, the luxuries and the rich food," Jaskier pointed out.

"I thought you wanted your lute, Jaskier," Geralt suddenly deadpanned, cutting Jaskier off, and you couldn't help but press your palm to your lips to suppress the unladylike snort that escaped your lips.

The three of you reached the front gate of the palace, and you couldn't help but feel sad. Geralt's fingers twitched, brushing against your palm and suddenly, he clasped his hand in yours, the skirt of your dress hiding your entwined hands from the rest of the world.

"You take care of yourself."

"I'm not the one leaving, Geralt. I'm not the one going back to the sorceress," you whispered in a low voice; a hint of jealousy playing in your voice.

"I'm just going to get Roach back. I promise there's nothing left between Yen and me," He squeezed your hand.

You stopped walking as you had already reached the palace door. The heavy doors were opened by the guards and you kept standing there, watching the two of them walk out of the palace until they weren't in sight anymore. You sighed to yourself, and started walking back inside.

You knew there were probably thousands of people in the castle right now; yet your heart felt lonely.

You spent the next three hours locked up in your bedchambers, sleeping most of the time. It was only at around sunset when one of your mother's handmaidens woke you up and told you that the Queen wanted you to be there at the dinner tonight, that some really important guests were coming over.

You looked at the beautiful golden dress that she was carrying in her hands. It was pure gold, with sparkling gems strewn to it. It looked expensive. As if the handmaiden had seen your expressions, she smiled and whispered, "this belongs to your mother. She wore this on her wedding day to King Eist. Now she wants you to have it."

She noted the look of discomfort that flashed in your eyes as you reached out and took the heavy dress from her.

"Why would she want me to wear this? Can't I wear something more simple? More comfortable?"

"Queen's orders, my lady."

You knew best to argue with the handmaiden so you groaned, rubbing your baby bump tenderly as you began slipping out of the simpler dress that you had been wearing. The handmaiden assisted you with the dress, and finally after an hour or so, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

The dress did seem to be a little tight from your waist given the fact that your baby bump was almost six months huge now but it did make you look beautiful, and divine. The gold colour blended perfectly with your skin tone, the pale make up that your handmaiden had done for you finally made you look like the Princess you truly were. If only Geralt had seen you like this, he wouldn't have been able to keep his hands off you.

Faint music from a lute played inside the hall, as you walked towards it, holding the skirt of your dress. You were trying your best to make your waddle a less of a waddle and more of a walk, but it was proving more difficult as your baby was growing inside of you fast, making it difficult for you to not waddle about due to your growing bump.

One of the guards opened the door for you, and you stepped into the hall, your eyes falling on your mother, Ciri and Eist seated on either side of her. Ciri, upon looking at you, couldnt help but openly frown at you, but Eist and Calanthe seemed to be in a jolly mood.

"Come on, join us, love, we would like to speak to you before our guests are here," Calanthe pointed to an empty high chair in front of her.

You nodded, and lowered yourself into it, keeping your eyes fixed on her.

Calanthe turned to Eist, and gave her a look, before she lifted the goblet in front of her and brought it up to her lips.

"We talked a lot, and decided something, love."

Her eyes fell down as she fixed her gaze on your bump, and then back towards your face.

"I should, perhaps, excuse myself?" Eist muttered, but Ciri snorted, "Why? I think you should stay. This is your masterplan too."

"Cirilla, leave us. Go back to your chambers—" Calanthe said, sternly.

You didn't understand what was up with them. You kept glancing from Ciri to Calanthe who finally looked at you.

"We love our grandchild. We really do. And we know how powerful and strong that child is. Which is why, we have made a decision. You will marry King Foltest of Temeria." Calanthe blinked.

"What?" You snapped, your voice coming out sharper than usual.

"Your union with Foltest will save the baby from being a called a bastard child, [Y/N]. They will be the legitimate heir to the Temerian Kingdom, and you will be protected."

Ciri stood up and she walked over to you. She placed a palm on your shoulder and squeezed it. Hot tears were already beginning to form in your eyes. You began blinking, rapidly, trying to get the cloudiness to go away.

"Are you serious mother? My baby's father is very much with me. You want me to wed King Foltest? I want Geralt," you whined.

"Listen [Y/N]—" Calanthe stood up, her angry eyes looking at you, "You are not an ordinary woman. You are the Princess of Cintra. You cannot leave everything for a Witcher on the road."

"But mother I love Geralt!" You shouted back, curling your fists against the fabric of the dress.

"We all sacrifice, child. For what is right. Foltest is the key to securing your future. Also, you should thank him [Y/N]. He is accepting your hand in marriage even knowing the fact that you are carrying another man's bastard child inside you."

You flinched at the harshness of your own mother's words, the mother you had tried so hard to be in the life of.

"I don't want to marry Foltest. I want to live my life with Geralt."

"And do what? Assist that Witcher in killing monsters?" Calanthe spat, taking a sip of the drink, shaking her in distaste, "You think you can own it all? Have a Witcher sit on the throne to Cintra by your side?"

"Mother, this throne means nothing to me if there's no Geralt by my side."

You turned around, and turning your back towards them, you began walking away, ignoring your mother who kept screaming at you, "Do you think you have a choice? This Kingdom chose you, you didn't choose this kingdom. You are going to marry Foltest, [Y/N]. Whether you like it or not."

You wiped the base of your eyes with the balls of your palm and sniffled as you looked at yourself in the mirror. The dress lay discarded on the floor, and you were dressed in a slip. Your fingers grazed over the marks that Geralt had given you last night, that one night of passion you had shared with him, and your heart ached. The man had marked you for himself, and even the destiny had. He was your lover and the father of your baby, yet you were now being faced with this gruesome situation of being married off to someone else— someone that wasn't Geralt of Rivia.

You were startled when Ciri wrapped her arms around your shoulders and let her head rest against your shoulder. Well, atleast there was someone who supported you, and your decision.

"I am sorry, Aunt [Y/N]. Grandmother can be overbearing."

"Can be?" You asked, sarcastically and she kept quiet, her head still resting against your shoulder, until she propped her head up and turned to you, her expressions serious.

"What are you going to do?" She asked.

You took a deep breath, and looked down at your bump, the only thing left to remind you of the man who had promised he would come back for you.

"I will run away. I don't want the Kingdom Ciri, if it means I have to marry Foltest. I cannot betray Geralt."

"Can I come with you?" She asked, and you turned towards her, shaking her head.

"Someone needs to be with mother, Ciri. And if it can't be me, it has to be you."

You told her, taking both her hands on yours, your thumb stroking gently over her knuckles.

The two of you stayed in momentary silence; before the two of you dropped each other's hands. She stood up and gave you an apologetic glance before she started walking out when you called her.

"Ciri, will you help me? I need to leave."

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[yourlocalfictionalenthusiast]

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART FOUR

Pt1, Pt2, Pt3

Warnings: fighting with parents and some swearing

---

The bright sunlight hit your eyes and you squinted a little as your feet hit the driveway.

Julie’s song was still playing through your head, and so was your conversation with her last night. The passion in her voice when she sang was the same as when she talked about her mom.

You wanted to run in and comfort her somehow, but Luke seemed insistent on staying outside, making Alex grumble next to you.

“Dude, why did you stop me? Julie needs a hug.”

“A ghost hug is not the feel-good moment you think it is. Trust me.” Luke said. What Julie needs is some privacy.”

“I think you poofed us out because you can’t handle when other people cry.” Alex waved his finger in Luke’s face, making you frown at his words.

It wasn’t a secret that Luke wasn’t the best with feelings, but he had always been there for you. Last night in the darkroom, and again at the diner, and countless other times.

“I should know,” Alex continued, gesturing between Luke and Reggie. “I cried in a room for 25 years, and I didn’t get a single hug from either of you.”

Reggie sighed, opening his arms. “Bring it in.”

“Don’t touch me!”

“This is why no one but (Y/n) hugs you.” Reggie mumbled as you rubbed Alex’s arm.

“Okay.” Luke interrupted. “So, once we get the courage to go in there, we should ask Julie why she lied about playing the piano.”

Alex shrugged. “And maybe tell her how amazing she is?”

You nodded and Reggie exclaimed. “She’s legit! I got ghost-bumps.”

Just then, the gate leading to the house swung open and a girl made her way down the pavement. As she got closer, you could hear her sobbing quietly.

“Oh no, was she crying too?” You asked as the girl entered the garage.

“Yes!” Luke shivered. “We definitely can’t go in there.”

“No, but we can listen.” Reggie ran towards the door, standing on his tip-toes to peek through the window.

“Guys! We can’t eavesdrop, that’s creepy!” You whispered, but the boys ignored you and crowded the door.

Seconds later, they all ducked to avoid being seen and you couldn’t help but be curious. So you ran over and squeezed yourself between Luke and Alex.

“I’m not okay!” The other girl shouted. “You got kicked out of music! I’ve been up all night thinking about what I was gonna say, and I might’ve had seven sodas but I need to get this out.”

“Flynn-” Julie started but Flynn shook her head and started ranting.

“Jules, if you leave the music program, we’ll be apart forever. Sure, we’ll see each other in the hallway sometimes but we’ll make new friends.”

“That’s not true.” Julie said.

“You’re right, I won’t make any new friends. The only time we’ll contact each other is by liking each other’s posts on Instagram. Every time I hit that little heart, mine will be breaking because my best friend left me.”

“What’s Instagram?“ Alex whispered to you. You shrugged, making a mental note to ask Julie later.

Julie sighed. “I just played piano and sang again.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was trying but then your seven sodas kicked in.” Julie laughed.

Flynn squealed. “I’m so happy for you! Look at you, looking all alive again. What made you play again?”

Julie slid her mom’s song across the piano to show Flynn and you couldn’t help but smile. You obviously hadn’t known Julie for long, but you were so happy that she reconnected with her mom and music.

“I was so scared to play it, cause everything having to do with music reminds me of her. But I woke up this morning, realizing that’s exactly why I should play it. To keep her memory alive.”

“We need to tell Mrs. Harrison that you can play so you can stay in the music program. My girl’s back! Double Trouble lives again.”

“Not our band name.” Julie laughed as the girls started walking out of the garage.

“Shit, she’s coming!” You whispered. “Act natural.”

You and Reggie sank to the floor, Luke leaned on his arm and Alex pretended to inspect the light hanging above you. Julie made eye contact with you and smiled.

“Oh, hey!”

Flynn turned around and watched Julie expectantly. Julie laughed awkwardly and started skipping down the driveway.

“Let’s hustle!” She grabbed Flynn’s arm and started walking up the stairs, waving goodbye.

“We weren’t listening!” Reggie said, earning a pinch on the arm from you and a kick to the ankle from Luke. Julie started swatting the air, trying to play it off like there was a bug, and pushed Flynn up the stairs.

As soon as she was gone, you made your way back into the garage. You sat at the piano bench, mindlessly playing the few chords you knew.

“I wonder why Julie didn’t tell us she could shred on the piano.” Reggie said.

“It probably has something to do with her mom.” You guessed, your fingers gliding across the keys.

“Yeah, that must’ve been hard.” Alex added before climbing up to the loft. “I really feel for her.”

“Yeah, but now she’s got music back in her life. Just like us.” Luke said, reaching over and hitting the note next to your finger.

“Yeah, I’m not sure you can call what we have a life.” Alex said and you snorted. “Hey, I think some of our old clothes are up here.”

He threw down a black trash bag filled with clothes and you sighed in relief. The night you died, you wore a plain pair of jeans, and your favorite old t-shirt of your dad’s. You usually wore one when you played a gig, so that a part of him could be with you in some way and of course; Luke’s jacket.

And as much as you loved your outfit, being in the same clothes for 25 years was not exactly sanitary, even by ghost standards.

“Sweet!” Luke exclaimed, taking off his shirt.

Shit!

You tried as subtly as possible to look away before anyone saw the blush on your cheeks, and you thought you had gotten away with it until Reggie laughed from across the room.

You sent him a glare, but that only made him laugh harder.

Suddenly, the studio doors opened again and Julie’s dad came in. He had a sad look on his face and a camera in his hands. It had ‘Ray Molina’ engraved on the handle so you figured that was his name.

The man walked right through Reggie, making him shudder. “That was weird. But somehow I can tell this man has a kind heart.”

“So, how have you been?” Ray asked, his voice heavy.

“Honestly, not that good.” Reggie said and you rolled your eyes. “See, we ate these hotdogs and-”

“Julie sang for the first time again this morning.” Ray took a picture of the room. “She hasn’t done that in almost a year. You would’ve loved it.”

“Yeah, we heard cause we-.” Reggie wiggled his fingers in front of Ray’s face. “Oh, I get it. He's not talking to us."

"Dude, you are so lucky you play bass." Luke said.

"I think he's talking to Julie's mom." Alex sighed.

Ray started walking towards the piano. "She's such an amazing young woman."

He started running his hands on the keys so you slid off the bench. You knew you definitely shouldn't be listening, this was definitely not something you weren't meant to hear but you couldn't help your curiosity. "Everyday she reminds me more and more of you."

"Called it!" Alex cheered.

Ray shifted the camera between his hands. "I'm taking pictures for the real estate website. I don't really wanna move, but...it's what's best for Julie."

Alex came down from the loft and you all crowded around the piano. Luke stared at Ray with wide eyes. "Move?"

Ray gently played a few notes of a ballad before he spoke again. "There's so many memories out here. Like, Julie sitting next to you and Carlos trying to sing with his missing front teeth."

Luke let out a shaky breath and you realized he was crying. It wasn’t until a tear rolled down your cheek that you realized that you were too. You frantically wiped your eyes, doing your best not to break down.

Ray was exactly what you always pictured your dad used to be like, and his love for Julie was exactly the same kind you knew he would've had for you. Thinking about your dad made you think about your mom, and that made trying to stop crying a whole lot harder.

"Come on guys, not you too." Reggie said.

"It's just...he's talking about moving but the poor guy doesn't wanna move." Luke sniffled.

Ray stood up and took a picture of right where you were all standing. "It's like they grew up out here."

Reggie fanned his face. "Now he's got me too."

Alex scoffed. "Okay, how am I the emotional one?"

"Can we go see my family? See how they're doing?" Reggie asked, his voice shaking a little.

You nodded. “Yeah, listening to this doesn’t feel right.”

Just as you go to leave, Ray laughs. "Remember when the kids were at your sisters and we came out here on our anniversary..."

"Yeah, no! " Luke cringed. "Definitely wrong.”

-

The beach was where you spent a lot of your free time when you were alive.

Usually after a long day when you just needed a place to work on new lyrics in peace. But sometimes after playing all day at the pier, the boys would drag you down to the water and you would all stay there as long as possible. Away from parents and responsibilities.

But just like everything else, it had changed so much.

"A bike shack," Reggie sighed. "Right where my house used to be."

"I'm sorry, Reg." You rested your head on Reggie’s shoulder.

"Why couldn't they at least have turned it into something cool like a pizzeria or something?"

"They tore down the whole neighborhood." Alex said.

"I guess my folks are gone."

Alex kicked his foot into the sand. "Everyone's gone. Twenty-five years, gone. Friends, family, Bobby, everyone."

That was another person you hadn't wanted to let yourself think about. Even though you and Bobby weren't super close, he was still a part of Sunset Curve. He could be a little bit of an asshole sometimes but he was still your friend.

"Bobby, that's right." Reggie said. "Guess that vegetarian lucked out. Wonder what happened to him?"

"He probably just got old like everyone else and moved on." Luke grumbled.

"Dude, how are you so chill about all of this?”

“Yeah, don’t you want to figure out what happened?” You asked.

“Let’s be real for a second.” Luke exhaled, clearly getting worked up. “It’s not like any of us were close to our families. My parents always regretted buying me that guitar. Reggie, your parents were literally a fight away from divorce.” 

Luke ran a hand through his hair as he ranted, talking with his hands the way he always did when he was upset. “Alex, I- Your parents were never cool again after you told them you were gay.”

His eyes landed on you and he seemed to ease up a little. “(Y/n), you practically raised yourself since your mom was gone all the time.”

“Yeah, okay.” You said. “None of us had it great.”

“But at least we had something! What do we have now?” Alex shouted. “And before you say cool teleportation, I’m not cool with that either. It tingles. In weird places.”

Luke sprang to his feet. “I’ll tell you what he had. It’s what we’ve had since the day we came together. Guys, we have us. We’re the only family we’re ever gonna need. You wanna know what else we got?”

“I’m gonna guess death breath?” Reggie said.

“Our music, you dork.” Luke laughed. “People can hear us play again! They can’t see us, whatever, but they can feel us. I wish I had my guitar.”

Suddenly, the air around you made a sharp ‘whoosh’ sound and Luke’s six-string appeared in his hands.

“Whoa.” You said.

“How did you do that?” Reggie asked.

“I-I don’t know. I mean I wished for it and then...” Luke played a few chords and beamed.

Reggie jumped in place with his arms open, trying to wish for random things before he eventually gave up and slumped into the sand.

“I think I know what will cheer you up.” Luke said. He played the opening of ‘This Band Is Back’ and you couldn’t help but smile. Out of all the Sunset Curve songs, this was one of your favorites.

“Come on, Reginald.” Alex said as he started hitting his legs and chest to make a beat.

You offered Reggie your hand and pulled him up as Luke started the countdown. Reggie took it and twirled you around, effectively getting sand in your shoes. You laughed and spun him around before dragging him up to the tables in front of the restaurants as he sang.

The people around you seemed confused by the sudden music, but they danced around anyway. You forgot how much you loved seeing people react to your music. Watching them dance and smile made all your worries float away, even if it was just for now.

And for the first time since the Orpheum,

It really did feel like the band was back.

August 1994

It was just after sunset when you called the Patterson house.

The sound of your mom slamming the front door was still fresh in your mind and before you could stop yourself, your fingers were flying across the buttons. Luke was the only person who knew about your relationship with your mom. 

You didn’t want to worry Cece, or Alex, or anyone else. But hiding things from Luke wasn’t easy, especially with how stubborn he was. So you told him everything, and he told you,

‘Call me next time, okay?’

The line only rang twice before someone picked up. “Hello?” 

It was Emily, Luke’s mom.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep from crying. “Hi, Mrs. Patterson.”

Emily laughed and you could practically hear her roll her eyes fondly. “(Y/n), sweetie, what did I tell you about calling me that?”

Even though you and Luke had been friends most of your lives, you had only met Emily a handful of times. Luke didn’t really like hanging out at his house, especially when he started fighting with them regularly. Still, Emily always treated you like her own kid whenever you were around.

“Sorry, Emily.” You said. “Is Luke around?”

You heard some shuffling as she called out for him and after a few minutes, Luke picked up the phone. “Hey.”

“Hi, are you busy?” 

“No, why?” He asked.

“Well, I made enough cookies to feed a small country and my mom’s gonna be gone for the night so I thought we could hang out.” You rambled. “Maybe finish ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark?”

Luke laughed excitedly. “Yeah, sure! Give me like 20 minutes.”

Luke’s laugh was so infectious that you had to fight through a giggle. “Okay, see you soon.”

As you went to hang up, you hear Emily’s voice again. She was teasing Luke about something but all you caught was the word ‘Girlfriend’, making you turn bright red.

You put the phone back on the hook just as the oven beeped to signal that it was ready to bake the cookies. You put them in the oven and turned your attention to the huge bowl of cake batter in front of you. At this point, there wasn’t anything left in the kitchen you hadn’t baked.

There was no way you would be able to eat all of it, even with Luke’s help. But you needed something to distract yourself to keep your mind from overloading.

True to his word, Luke arrived twenty minutes later, bursting through your front door and screaming the Indiana Jones theme song at the top of his lungs. He skipped his way into the kitchen, immediately sensing something was wrong when you didn’t join him or even acknowledge his presence. 

“(Y/n)?” Luke approached you slowly.

“Hey.” You tried to sound as casual as possible, not looking up from the bowl. “So, you ready to finally finish this movie?”

Luke didn’t say anything as he scanned the kitchen. There were piles of cookies and cooking utensils all over the counter, and you had flour in your hair. You could see the realization flash across his face through your eyelashes.

“Okay, you’re baking everything in the house, which can only mean one of two things,” Luke said, his voice becoming more serious as he jumped up on the counter. “You either watched Sixteen Candles unsupervised again or…”

You stayed quiet as you slowly stirred the batter. It was ready to put in the pan ten minutes ago but you needed something to do to distract yourself.

Luke’s hand gently gripped yours before taking the spoon from you and letting it fall into the bowl. You looked up at him to find him already staring at you with a furrowed brow.

Damn it.

You should’ve known he would see through your thinly veiled excuses and promise of cookies. Luke was more observant than people gave him credit for.

“C’mere,” Luke said, opening his arms. You moved between his legs and buried your head in his chest, covering his shirt in tears, flour, and batter. But he didn’t seem to mind as he rubbed circles into your arm with one hand while the other cradled your head.

“She hates me.” You said through a deep, shuddering breath.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Luke reasoned. “It’s impossible for anyone to hate you.”

One of the things you loved about Luke was his protective streak when it came to his friends, and the way that no matter what, he could only see the best in them.

And as his best friend, you were pretty much perfect in his eyes. Which meant that when you didn't immediately agree, Luke launched into a rant.

"First of all, you're like the smartest person in the world. You manage to get good grades while also working at the diner three days a week which is nuts.

Secondly, your voice is insane! And your lyrics, (Y/n), we wouldn't even have half the Sunset Curve songs without your killer songwriting skills!"

"You done, Lu?" You joked as you pulled away just enough to look up at him, trying not to blush. No matter how hard you tried to play it cool when he complimented you, it always made you melt inside.

"I'm just saying," Luke laughed softly. “You are literally the best person I know, Squeaks.”

You let out a watery laugh at the mention of your childhood nickname. It was one that Luke had given to you in 4th grade after he put a bug on your arm and you had squeaked in fear.

“And just think,” Luke whispered, his voice sounding a little wistful. “One day, we’ll get signed to a label and end up somewhere far away from here.”

“We barely started making our demo.” You said, making Luke scrunch his nose in the way that always made you giggle. "Don't you think you're getting a little ahead of yourself?"

“Nope.” He smirked. “Okay, I gotta ask, were you planning on baking this or is this a new look you’re going for? ‘Cause I gotta be honest, it’s not your best.” Luke said teasingly as he swiped some batter from your cheek.

“Oh, really?” You asked, dipping your finger in the bowl and smearing the batter across Luke’s face, making him gasp. Then you took a slight step back and hummed thoughtfully. “Definitely looks better on me.”

“You know what?” Luke scoffed, trying to hold back a smile and before you could blink, he reached into the bowl and flung the spoon at you, splattering your shirt. “I think you’re right.”

“Jerk!” You laughed, wiping off your shirt as Luke tried to lick the batter off his chin but he only managed to make an ever bigger mess.

“Did I get it?” He asked, making you giggle.

“Not quite.” You reached forward and carefully wiped it off, desperately trying to focus on anything other than how close your faces were. But it was impossible when you could feel Luke’s breath on the tip of your nose. “There.”

Luke’s face was unreadable as he looked down at you. The playfulness had evaporated in the air and was replaced with something else that you couldn’t really read either. Just when you thought the moment would last forever, the timer for the second batch of cookies rang through the kitchen, and you practically bolted to the oven.

You pulled them out and put them on a plate. “So, you know that we have to watch Sixteen Candles now, right?”

Luke groaned, pretending to be annoyed. Even though he would never admit it, you knew he secretly loved romance movies. “Fine, but Raiders of the Lost Ark after?”

“Deal.”

As Luke went into the living room to start the movie, you sighed to yourself. Maybe you would never have a normal relationship with your mom.

But you had your band, your friends, and even if it wasn’t exactly in the way you wanted; 

You had Luke.

-

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[ray-ray-writings]

Here you are Ray! This one is 1311 words, I really hope you enjoy! I’m going to try to write longer ones, or at least a little more structured/planned so I’ll probably be sending stuff in less. Anyway, here is what I like to call, Dedication. ~Punzo👻

"Y/n!" I spun around, a large smile tearing across my face. My face immediately fell into shock, and then sadness as I met red eyes, instead of blue. He stopped running right in front of me and then gave me a smile. I smiled back at him but I knew it was strained. His smile fell into a frown. "What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing, love. Just a bit of a hard day. What's up?" I offered him a genuine smile that he easily reciprocated. He extended his hand towards me and I reached forward. Before I laced my fingers with his one of them met with something very soft and I carefully eased up my pressure on it as I turned our hands over. A soft giggle tumbled out of my mouth at the sight of a pumpkin pie. (1. Minecraft mechanics lol 2. I wuv pumpkin pie). "This for me?"

"Of course, I found it in a village." I looked up to meet his eyes and tried my hardest to ignore the red. He was still Punz, he was still my sweet boyfriend that I loved. I gently took it from him and emptied my hand.

"Thank you." I gently leaned forward to kiss him and he responded immediately. When I pulled back I was slow to open my eyes, but I broke out into a full smile when I found beautiful blue eyes drinking me in. I brought my hands to his face and ran my thumbs over it gently. "Hey there."

"Hi, lovey." His posture had completely softened from the unnatural energy he always put off when under the eggs control, and his hands held me to him gently. I leaned up and brushed my lips against his forehead, before I pulled away completely.

"Wanna go to the docks?" He nodded his head and I gently took his hand and started leading him down the prime path, towards where l'manburg used to be. We used to hang around there whenever he got out of the egg's control, so he could get away from it. After the explosion, we've been going to the docks instead. I've been taking care of Tubbo's dogs ever since I found out about them, and Punz liked to join me when I did it. I hummed out in happiness when they came into full view.

We walked down to the pier with the dogs, feeding and giving some fresh water to them. When we finally finished doing that we walked all the way to the end of the docks and sat down next to each other. I leaned on his shoulder and we sat there in a comfortable silence. I wanted to talk to him about the egg, wanted to tell him it didn't change how I saw him, but any time the egg was brought up it took control of him. I always avoided the subject, but I wish I could give him support without the egg side of him questioning my loyalty to the egg. I didn't get involved, never going to see it or even going near the vines. I was surprised when Punz never brought up seeing it with me, but I think it was just his desire to protect me fighting hard to keep me safe.

"What are you thinking about?" I lifted my head off his shoulder to give him a gentle smile. He smiled back at me and I brought my hand up to gently play with his hair.

"How great you are. How much I love you." I tried to pour all the love and sincerity I could in my gaze. I needed him to know I meant it, no matter what I would always love and support him. His smile was soft and he was looking at me like I put the sun in the sky. My breath hitched at the expression, never had I thought I would be looked at like that and here I was, staring at the love of my life while he had that look in his eyes. "I really really love you."

"I love you more." I shook my head but a smile emerged on my face at his teasing tone. Before I could retort he pulled me into a kiss that took my breath away. He pulled my body close with one hand, his other on my face. One of my hands was tangled in his hair, the other gently gripping the side of shirt. I was left panting when we finally pulled away, and a drowsy smile crawled onto my face. He ran his thumb across my cheek, following the movement with his eyes. I closed mine in bliss, letting out a content breath. I opened my eyes and gave him a smile I knew would give away my next sentence.

"I love you most." I giggled right after, watching as he rolled his eyes. We pulled apart, the soft moment replaced with playfulness. I bumped my shoulder against his, laughing once more. He bumped me back, and we ended up shoving at each other until Punz pushed me in the water. I gasped just before I fell, trying to meet his eyes but failing before my head sunk under. I flailed for a moment, before emerging from the ocean, to stare at my laughing boyfriend. A part of me wanted to pout and make him feel guilty but the water wasn't cold and his joy seeped into me. A grin came onto my face, and it became just a little more evil as a thought popped into my head. He stopped laughing and turned serious like he thought about it the same time I did.

"Y/n, don-" I grabbed his ankle and yanked him down, my laughter bursting from my chest as he became submerged. As soon as he came up a pout was on his face, which only made me laugh harder. He reached forward and grabbed me by the waist and I reflexively put my hands on his shoulders, still dying of laughter. He let a chuckle and stared at me for a while, before wrapping his arms fully around me. Our legs slightly hit together but we stayed afloat. "You know we're gonna be soaked on the way home."

"Aw, is baby boy worried he's gonna get cold?" I let out another giggle and he rolled his eyes at my words. Before I could even react I was lifted and pushed up and away from him, and I let out a short shriek before my head dipped under water once more. Water flooded my mouth and I quickly swam up, coughing. A hand was placed on my back almost immediately, rubbing in soothing circles. I leaned against him when I finished, but I knew I was okay.  "Baby boy had a baby rage."

"Well, look who's recovered." I giggled as he tried to move away, but I quickly grabbed his arm so he couldn't get far. 

"Noooo, I'm just messing with you." I pulled his arm to my chest, laughing as I leaned my head onto his shoulder. He sighed but a smile came onto his face. I pressed a kiss to his cheek, before doing so again. "You really are a baby."

"Your baby?" I chortled as I leaned against him again, pressed my forehead to his shoulder. When I raised my head he was looking at me with a pout and I couldn't help but smile brightly. I brought my hand up and gently pushed his lower lip back to his teeth. 

“Of course you are." I pressed a kiss to his lips, and he pulled me tight against him again. When we pulled apart I snuggled into his neck. I covered his skin in kisses and he chuckled, rubbing his hand up and down my back once more. "My baby."

OH MY GOD IM IN LOVE!!!!!!!!! THIS IS SO CUTE AND SO GOOD!!!!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH PUNZO👻!!!!!!!!!!

[roguerogerss]

sunshine

Pairing: Laurie Laurence x Reader

W/C: 1.7k

Warnings: none!

Plot: Your love life is decided for you by your aunt, but that was never an issue to you until you met Laurie.

A/N: this is so short but it’s at least something? and i think it’s pretty cute. i’m kinda uninspired atm but keep sending in requests and i’ll give them a go! like and reblog if you enjoy please!

————

The sun was bright in the sky when she woke, the clouds that hung above her window looked full and fluffy and white. She'd forgotten to draw the curtains in her state of panic from the night before, and as she thought about what the day was to entail, that same panic slowly settled on her shoulders and she could feel a throbbing behind her eyes.

Wedding Day. Or, rather, arranged marriage day.

Y/N's mother would never have let it happen, but she'd passed when her daughter was only young and her father worked overseas for most of the year. She lived with her aunt in a cushy villa in the countryside, one that resided across from the field in which the March sisters spent most of their time.

That was how Y/N had come to meet Theodore Laurie Laurence.

Her love life had never been a choice that she'd had the right to make, with her aunt deciding who she was allowed to love for her, but that had never been much of an issue until she'd become acquainted with Laurie.

They'd met on the three year anniversary of her mother's passing. She was taking a stroll down by the brook to clear her mind, squinting against the sun after forgetting to bring a hat, and Laurie had gone rushing by and bumped arms with her on his way, knocking her to the floor.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." He had helped her to her feet and dusted off her dress for her, smiling all the while. It had occurred to her that in all of the time that she'd known Laurie, she'd never known him to do anything other than smile. He was like a ray of sunshine, always energetic and smiley and glowing. She often wondered how he managed to be so happy in a world that was anything and everything but.

By the time that she'd realised that she should've been out of bed and half ready instead of thinking about Laurie, her aunt was already bustling into the room, white dress in hand and ready to lace Y/N into a corset that felt tight and restricting and wrong. She rambled something about how Y/N should've already had her hair and makeup done, but her niece took no interest and instead watched as the silhouette of a seagull danced against the blinding sun.

Y/N's little concern for things in life that she didn't care for was what had drawn Jo March - and, consequently, her sisters - to her. Jo didn't care for social class or etiquette and paid little mind to the philosophy that women served the singular purpose of marriage, and Y/N was much the same. While her aunt was very much traditional in her views, along with most everyone else in Plumfield, Y/N was the opposite. Her aunt thought it was unladylike to let her hair down and enjoy life as it came, but doing just that had made Y/N the best friends that she had.

"You look beautiful, dear." Y/N's aunt commented, holding her shoulders as they both looked at Y/N's reflection in the mirror in front of them. The dress was cream, with a floor length skirt and circle and long sleeves, complete with small pearl details. It might've been beautiful, but Y/N couldn't shake the fact that she wouldn't be marrying the love of her life, but, instead, he'd be watching as she married someone else.

She remembered the day that she’d announced her engagement to the March sisters. They’d consoled her and allowed her to cry herself out, to the point that, when Laurie arrived, her voice was so thick and face so covered in tears that he’d insisted she lay her head in his lap and let him braid her hair. It was something of a tradition between them, had been from the first moment that they’d realised their mutual feelings and they were sure it would be as they grew old together - the one thing that they were certain of in life was that they would be married and they were more than okay with that.

“Tell me, my love.” Laurie had said. His voice was so soft and gentle and Y/N knew that what she was going to have to say would break him. “What’s going on in that pretty little head?”

She’d opened her mouth to laugh at what he’d said, but an unexpected sob had erupted and she’d soon found herself sat up and wrapped in Laurie’s arms. “My aunt she - I - Laurie -”

The words leaving her lips made no sense and she couldn’t find it in her to make sense of them. It had been hard enough for her to tell Jo, Amy, Beth and Meg, nevermind Laurie. Laurie, the love of her life and the man who she wished more than anything to marry and to love for the rest of both of their lives, and who wished the same. “Slow down. Take your time. I’m listening.”

Deep breath, “It’s Arthur, Laurie. We’re engaged.”

The light in Laurie’s eyes had faded and so too the sun in the sky seemed to as he held Y/N at arms length and watched her with parted lips and a soft pout. “What? You’re engaged?”

“Yes.” She felt so small. The word that she had just uttered was so small but yet it held so much hurt and caused so much hurt that it seemed as though it should’ve been huge. “My aunt...Laurie, she made me-”

She was crying again because she expected Laurie to leave. She expected that he’d pick up and leave her alone on the picnic blanket on the hill and forget about her. But he didn’t, he understood. Because Laurie Laurence seemed to always understand her, it was all of the reason why she loved him so much. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. Never apologise for something that isn’t your fault.” Laurie had said. His arms were around her and he used his fingertips to brush lightly through her hair. His words had stuck with her and probably would forever.

Her aunt had left the room to allow Y/N to fix her hair into an updo instead of leaving it in the tangled mess that it had turned into during the night. She watched her reflection in the mirror, and she watched as the door behind her opened and Laurie stepped inside.

“I know I shouldn’t be here.” He said before she could even turn around. Hearing his voice was enough to start her sobs again, his sweet and gentle voice, so much unlike Arthur’s which was cold and hard and unloving and unappreciative of her. “Oh, Y/N.”

Laurie’s eyes were watery and his bottom lip wobbled lightly, the sunshine and light in the world seemed gone because Laurie Laurence was not smiling and Laurie Laurence was always and forever smiling. But he managed to catch Y/N in his arms as she let her shaking body fall into his embrace. “It’s okay. Everything will be okay.”

“It won’t, Laur. Nothing is okay when we are not together.” The sentence wasn’t something that she had to think about saying, and was almost a surprise when it left her mouth, but it was more true than anything else she’d ever said to Laurie apart from that she loved him. It was all she knew, that she loved Laurie Laurence and that when she couldn’t love him nothing would be okay and the good in life would slowly evaporate until it ceased to exist.

“Then don’t let your aunt break us apart.” Laurie pulled away and cupped Y/N’s cheek in one hand. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes, allowing herself to relish in it, in him, for one more second.

“What do you mean?”

“Stay with me. We can leave right now, she won’t know you’re gone for at least an hour and my father will cover for you. I promise.” Running away from her home life with Laurie was something of a dream to her. It wasn’t often that she did things without seeking a second opinion or taking time to think about the consequences, but her answer came quickly and with seemingly little to no thought in it whatsoever.

“Yes. Okay.” She spoke so quickly after Laurie’s proposition that he furrowed his eyebrows as if asking if she was thinking straight. “Yes, Laurie.”

“Yes?” He hadn’t expected her to say yes. He was asking a lot and he never asked a lot of her, but she seemed to be perfectly okay with it.

“Yes.” She was smiling and so was Laurie. Everything seemed right when Laurie smiled.

“We must go, she’ll notice you’re gone too soon if we don’t.” Laurie held out a hand for Y/N to clasp in her own, a confirmation that this was really happening and that he wasn’t going to lose her, that they really would be able to grow old together like they’d so often spoken and dreamed about while laying together in bed when the stars were out and time seemed to stop because they were alone together and nothing mattered.

“We can go.” She spoke softly, unclipping her hair and letting it hang freely around her shoulders. “Laurie?”

“Yes, my dear?” Laurie reached behind her to loosen the corset of her dress. He knew how much she hated corsets - much the same way she hated being with Arthur and for the same reason - that she hated anything that restricted her and stopped her from being able to do as she pleased.

“I love you. I love you so much.” She could say those words a million times and never be able to convey exactly what they meant to her. She meant that Laurie was her happiness and her muse just as much as he was the bad days and the sadness. He was her perfect match in love and in life and her best friend all in one.

“I love you too, darling.” And the sunshine was back in his eyes.

[boop-le-snoot]

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previously on...

Star is getting better, Sam is getting a friend, Stephen is a Sad White Boy™. A layover chapter. I'm not very happy with how this turned out but hey, it's an update and its still pandemi-lovato outside, we gotta be gentle on ourselves. PA turned out to be way more serious than I planned it to be anyways and I think that's very yeehaw of me to expand my writing from the usual almost-crackfics that I write. Love you all 3000.

Days stretched like a piece of chewed up gum, bleeding into one another at a snail's pace, one dull grey NYC afternoon after the other. The hospital wing I was forced to camp out in Tony's tower was top notch but everything, starting from the constant beeping to the sharp, chemical smells, irritated me, and what little strength I had to communicate was mostly spent on listening to Sam's tall tales.

Odette had stopped by shortly after the first wave of weakness had set in; no, I didn't dramatically faint or suddenly develop third stage cancer, I simply turned into a near-catatonic vegetable, devoid of any emotion or will to exist. My bones were like Jell-o, my thoughts - sluggish, sparse clouds that rarely swam in the grey plains of my overtired mind.

My boss was fussing over me for hours, I heard faint echoes of her and Stephen's argumentative conversations before she flipped out and shut the door to my hospital room, strong aromas of incense and smoke briefly overshadowing the bleach and plastic stench every hospital seemed to have. I

I became mostly coherent after her ministrations; enough to see the dark circles under her eyes and the ghastly tone of her skin. More often than not, I couldn't even properly focus my vision, things like using the bathroom and eating three times a day were the worst chores I'd ever had to do.

My body was trying to convince me to wither away, to simply allow the vessel for my spirit to become one with the Earth once more. I had no energy to process what had happened on the foreign planet; when I slept, I didn't dream, I didn't have nightmares, time just flowed like a fast, untamed river, my weary body drifting along the calmer streams of the shoreline and occasionally bumping into a stone of daily routine.

My stubbornness, however, was an inherent part of me. I had considered, many times, simply giving up; the voices in my head whispered at me their poisonous ideas. It would be so easy, to fall asleep and never wake up. They baited me with the promises of afterlife, of golden halls and spaces full of light and warmth.

Sam had started spending a lot of time at my bedside absolutely unprompted; sometimes, he'd hold my hand, gentle, tender fingers drawing senseless squiggles on the inside of my palm. Faint echoes of his aura told me he was worried for me, but also grateful for what I did for Stephen and angry at someone. I tried not to think about the last part: I could sense their pity and their unease every time one of his teammates stopped by my hospital room.

A healthy-looking young woman spending most of her days blankly staring at the wall wasn't a picture-postcard view. Sam wasn't bothered by it in the slightest, and when I finally clawed my way out of the dredges to be able to answer questions with a simple 'yes' or 'no', he promptly lit up, speaking to me in a happy tone that almost wasn't forced.

Tony stopped by, too, usually late in the evening, when he thought I and everyone else was asleep. He sat next to me, his intelligent brown eyes fixed on my face for twenty, thirty minutes at a time before he'd stroke my hair or run a hot, calloused palm over my arm, and then took his leave, slow, shuffling footsteps quietly receding into the hallways. I really didn't know what to think about Tony, he had always been quite quirky, but his gestures were... Nice.

Stephen... Him, his actions, I understood the least. He had argued with Tony, argued with Odette and I was sure I heard him and the Black Widow scream at each other during lunch time. Sometimes I thought I heard his voice, at night, the darkness behind my eyelids suddenly bursting with golden sparks and green bokeh but when I finally mustered up the strength to open my eyes, the empty, white walls were all that greeted me.

Stephen never stopped by, I rarely heard his voice outside of my room and almost always it was one bickering or another, mostly with Sam muttering a few choice words as he noisily sat down on the chair next to me. As much as I hated to admit it, it bothered me. Near-death experiences tended to leave a strong imprint on the human mind and whether Stephen liked it or not, we were connected for life.

"Then Steve, the dumbass, just jumps out of the plane. No chute, no warning," Sam's voice, drifting between fond and annoyed, snapped me out of my stupor. "Robot-brain curses, yells at his boyfriend like he can hear him and just... Does the same fucking thing," the exasperation made a tiny spark of mirth settle in me. I flexed my fingers despite the dull ache, gripping Sam's fingers in my palm. I didn't need to see him to know he immediately perked up. "Meanwhile I'm standing there with my wings, trying to figure out where in life did I take the wrong turn to end up with these two idiots."

"You should get them," I swallowed, my throat dry, my vocal cords tense from the lack of use. "One of those... Backpack leashes," the words were a battle to get out, it was a fight with a brick wall to force my brain to string sounds into a sentence, but I persisted.

"Should I say 'welcome back'?" Sam's optimism is cautious.

"Gettin' there," I forced my eyes to meet his, to see the life bustling in him. To feel alive, even by proxy.

"I should get Strange here, he's been running himself ragged these days, tryin' to figure out how to bring you back," Sam's free hand scrambled for his cell as I struggled to raise my eyebrows. "Yeah, yeah, I was as surprised as you were, Tony barely gets the wizard to sleep and eat."

Faint pangs of shame wormed into my headspace, for assuming the worst when I knew that his façade of vitriol and sarcasm was just that - a wall to protect himself. My rediscovery of the ability to feel, even if it was gooey shame, grounded me in this plane of existence, forcing me to face reality and return to it.

"I feel like shit," for once in my life, I allowed myself to openly, publicly complain about my state of being.

"Yeah, I couldn't tell," Sam's tone was refreshingly teasing. "Odette and Strange explained what you did. Well, sort of," the man scratched his chin. "I understood about half of it, really, but what matters is that you were badass as fuck!"

I struggled to hold onto that sense of being present. "Well, it wasn't my choice," I felt the need to state the fact. "I'm a conductor, of sorts."

Sam's eyebrows rose, both of his hands encompassing my lax palm. "Wizard-man said you consciously directed the energies, or whatever."

I felt the tiniest laugh bubble up from the bottom of my throat, my dry, chapped lips stretched on their own accord. "Because it tickled and itched. It was annoying," I belatedly suspected that there was something... Off, about my explanation.

Sam's gaping expression, exasperated disbelief, put me on edge. "You thought that radioactive ash tickles and severe nerve damage itches?" His head shook from side to side, as if he was trying to get rid of a persistent mosquito.

"Um," I had the decency to look away. "I didn't know it was radioactive," I meekly supplied as the door to my hospital room all but flew open.

Stephen looked - not much better than me, if I had to guess, with the exception of a highly anxious face instead of the (probably) dead inside high school drama club goth that I looked like. The Cape billowed behind him despite a lack of any wind, wiggling as my eyes widened in response to the fabric moving on its own.

"You're okay," Stephen's baritone had me snapping up to meet his stormy eyes with a speed I wasn't aware I possessed at this stage of my recovery. The sorcerer stood silently, eyeing me in turn.

"I'll go get some coffee," Sam delicately interjected, giving my hand a brief squeeze and all but running out the door.

"Radioactive?" I repeated the question that bothered me the most. Shock seized my chest as I fully faced the implications of our impromptu adventure, but I welcomed the acrid sensations, desperate to feel anything at all.

"Yes," the sorcerer took a few long, hurried strides before crashing into the chair. "I didn't notice at first, but then you grabbed my hand and," a jerky inhale followed the confession. "I felt the healing burn, I felt how your body rejected the particles," his speech stuttered. Slender, gloved fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'd be dead in an hour, maybe, if not for..."

I was equally at a loss for words, it seemed. "Weren't we... Harmful to others when we..?" I struggled to form my thoughts.

"You burnt it all off," Stephen replied curtly, puzzled. "Your whole being rejected everything that came from that wretched place. Tony insisted we run tests, do scans. Neither of us have even residual radiation from past x-rays," Stephen's fingers twitched. "But that's not all."

"Your hands?" I offered, remembering some of Sam's words.

A sharp inhale coming from the sorcerer answered my question, if not in detail, and the man himself hesitated to reply for a reason I did not know. I didn't undo the damage, this much I knew was true. He swallowed loudly, eyes firmly planted on the wall opposite me. "They do not hurt anymore," the words were barely louder than a whisper.

I chewed on my lip, slowly, idly, letting Stephen process whatever bothered him that much. He should have been happy, or so I thought, that there was one less thing in this world that had the potential of giving him a headache. "Good," I simply replied, attempting to shrug.

"No, you don't understand," he suddenly lifted his eyes, staring at me hotly. "You did so at the expense of your own life, your lifespan, you energy, your ability to have child-"

I stopped his rant, lifting up one shaky, and my feeble gesture instantly made the tired, broken man deflate into someone that reeked of shame and regret. His shoulders dropped, head briefly touching the side of my bed. For all purposes, I nearly acquired a lapful of kicked puppy Stephen.

Mustering up my very last dregs of energy, I scoffed in his direction: "Don't fucking tell me what to do, wizard," before the familiar weight of apathy began taking over me again. One sluggish thought after the other, I came to a conclusion that he was experiencing a sort of survivor's guilt, except I didn't die.

Or maybe I did? Maybe I'd left some unknown, invisible part of me on the irradiated plains of a foreign world, coming home as a shell of my former self. To their eyes, at least, it could have looked the part; not too long after Stephen's departure, I mustered up the strength and the courage to look into a mirror, to properly see the damage I'd done to myself.

An ashen undertone to my skin, my eyes had sunken deeply into my surprisingly angular face. I had the look of a person who'd survived famine and torture, at least. I appeared to be as dull and disgusting as I felt. For what felt the first time in ages, I carefully, slowly ran myself a hot bath with some of the fancy toiletries placed in the bathroom, because of course Tony would have a full size bath in a hospital room, the steaming, herbal-smelling liquid almost instantaneously giving a boost to my blood flow and speeding up the living energies within my exhausted form.

Sam was waiting for me when I stepped out heated and pruney, a lopsided tilt to his lips and the mouthwatering smell of coffee gathering saliva in my mouth for the first time in days.

"Stephen needs to see a fucking therapist," I grouched, sitting down on the bed, bundled up in a fluffy bathrobe.

Wilson's responding eyeroll was pure reflex. "They all do," he reached out for his thermos, having noticed me eyeing it. A paper cup was promptly filled and given to me. "I can recommend a few, by the way. That specialise in unusual circumstances," he eyed me with kindness, gesturing towards the hospital room with a wide wave of his hand.

I chewed on my lip. "I don't think it will help much, at least right now, since all my hurts are- eh, magical," I shrugged. "I gotta figure out how to stop my limbs from feeling like cooked spaghetti noodles first." The coffee tasted like the usual hospital sludge but somehow, after being devoid of all feeling, it was the single best thing I've had in the past week.

"Seems like a solid plan," Sam agreed. "Your boss is a scary lady, by the way. And I mean it respectfully."

The corners of my mouth tilted up. "Yeah, but she's also very experienced and very kind. She knows her stuff."

Sam quickly looked to the side and as I followed the direction of his stare, i spied a pile of empty Tupperware boxes, causing me to lift an eyebrow at the suddenly bashful man.

"What?" He tried for indignant but it came out as a squeak. "I'm a man, god dammit! I am given free food, I take the free food!"

The realization set in. "She's feeding you now? Did you hit on my boss to get food, Sam?" I wagged my fingers, enjoying the face expressions the man was making, probably, a little more than I should. He looked like a right bird when disgruntled, all puffed up and glaring.

"No!" He almost shrieked. "She cornered me, said I was doing God's work by sitting and talking to you! She just started bringing those... Casseroles, every time she stopped by," the agitation in his voice was quite funny to me. "Not like it's a chore, I actually like the peace and quiet. You've been the best listener I've had in the past year," Sam's grin grew more genuine. "And I don't have to see RoboCop's mug all day or listen to someone argue over the best pasta shape."

"Your house sounds like a nightmare," I supplied conversationally, remembering my own peculiar place and the set of rules and- SHIT, I belatedly realized, someone might went to my apartment to get my stuff and gotten in trouble. "Sam, who went to my place to get my stuff?" I asked, trying to force down the bubbling unease.

"Some lady stopped by, I think her name was also Sam?" He quietly questioned. "Had two kids with her, the boy kept staring at me like I'd stolen his lunch money," the man finished off his coffee, gathering the trash and noisily throwing it in the bin.

"Yeah, that's my neighbor. And Armin is a cool little dude, he's just very shy," I offered absent-mindedly, inwardly breathing a massive sigh of relief.

"He looks like the boy from 'I see dead people' movie," Sam deadpanned, opening a large drawer and extracting my gym bag from it. "I'll leave you to get dressed," we nodded to each other before Sam left the room, phone to his ear and a relaxed atmosphere around his whole being radiating warmth and contentment. That was a nice change from the tense, grim atmosphere of the days past. I could get used to it, could re-learn how to let myself feel like a living being again.

I was eager to return home; stepping in through the portal, my living room greeted me exactly the way I left it the day I went to work, a few books scattered on the couch, my fleece blanket hanging halfway off the couch. Stephen hovered behind me as I set my bag down on the table, immediately surveying the state of my plants and my altar.

"Do you need, um, help with anything?" He was fidgeting, all but vibrating behind me.

Apparently, Sam had talked some sense into the wizard because he stopped by a few times since that day, for a short small-talk or a cup of coffee, the kicked puppy look back on full display.

I told Sam off, of course, saying that I was an adult and so was Strange, but something in his knee-jerk reaction told me that he was so used to playing referee, it didn't even register with him that I might be able to handle my own business. I told Sam that much, taking his hand in me: I wanted a friend, not a parent, not a therapist. It went pretty smoothly.

"No, not really," I figured I could water my own plants and vacuum my own floors. My phone buzzed at that moment, a number saved in my phone as "Tony 😎" coming through with an absolutely outrageous message.

"I'm bringing pizza in 20. You better have Netflix. Tell Dumbledore to pick up his phone."

I promptly thrust the phone in Stephen's face, who instantly developed an equally annoyed and fond expression, as he searched the numerous pockets of his robe for the sleek, light StarkPhone. "Resistance is futile," he sighed, sitting down on the couch as I went to change into something fresh and water my plants while Stephen flicked through my Netflix. I heard him mutter to himself: "Grey's anatomy? Sixth season? Oh my God," with the tone of a man tortured.

"I had a roomie in college who majored in Medical History," I snorted. "When she had a bad day, she'd absolutely pick apart every single thing in the show. From the doctor's misconduct to the way a surgeon was holding the scalpel," I explained, seeing Stephen's eyes sparkle with amusement. "She was absolutely vicious and it was the most hilarious thing."

The sorcerer stroked his chin, leaning back into the couch. "That's acceptable. All medical shows are rubbish," he stated firmly. His phone beeped, causing him to sigh and conjure up a portal within seconds, in the corner of my apartment I had aptly designated to be the landing pad to myself. Tony stepped in, a bottle of wine and three steaming pizza boxes in hand. Smiling at his boyfriend, Stephen turned to me with a curious look: "What did you major in?"

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox @secretly-a-weeb @stuckybarton

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes : Reloaded

They're on a mission, chasing a lead in hopes of locating where The Shadow Company is situated.

Table of Contents

Previous Chapter : Vlad the Janitor

Chapter 20 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

forgive the piccrew

Undying Admiration

Francine "France" Winters

Safe house 110197, Brazil

"Look at them two, you think we could do that too?" Soap asked France. They were both seated on Soap's side of the floor, the soft foam caught their asses as they crossed their legs while Soap spun around a water bottle.

"You and me? Sing and Dance? Never in a million years!" She denied looking at the poor guy's attempt to actually get her to like him. She thinks he already knew that she's already falling for him since day one. But she wanted to focus on other things at hand rather than distract herself with romance. Maybe if this was all over and he's still there, he'll finally get the answer he's looking for.

"Why not? I'm kinda okay with singing." He grinned. Francine giggled. Sure he is, his overconfidence was getting attractive for her. If they weren't soldiers in a war, they'd probably be making out again. What happened back at the Gulag was an impulse, she never saw it coming as she almost lost hope for his absence.

"Why don't you like… sing for me?" She dared her eyes stared intensely into Soap's eye-catching baby blue orbs. She made a mental note that staring for more than five seconds in those were already dangerous, so she always breaks it before the fifth.

"Why do you do that?" He asked, his voice was giving her ears a good time. Yes. She's falling for him. It felt like everything he does is attractive, but she shouldn't be too quick, life has taught her that the faster she falls in love, the faster they leave. So she had to test the guy's patience.

"Do what?" she asked as if she didn't know what he meant.

"Look me in the eyes then immediately break it as soon as I stare long enough…" His eyes squinted towards her as she evaded eye contact.

"I don't do that." She easily shrugged it off and got up.

"Well, good night. John. We have an early mission tomorrow." She got up as Soap trailed his eyes on her, the look of admiration was painted all across his face.

"Can you not look at me like that?!" She pleaded as her cheeks blushed. Her boyish appeal on the force always repelled attention and now this guy was admiring her for who she is and she felt happy.

"I won't do it if I get a good night's kiss." he pouted his wonderful lips. Lips she actually really wanted to taste again.

"Good Night John." She said as she closed the men's bedroom door and went to her bed.

~

When Price told her about a small recon mission, she never knew it was this small. The team only consisted of her and Ghost riding a rental truck to a village which was a few kilometers away from their safe house. The point person was an alleged nephew of a soldier that currently works for Shepherd. It was almost a dead lead but the intel being accessible enough was sort of worth it.

Rule of engagement is "Don't".

The village would most likely be unarmed, unprotected and peaceful. But Price advised to keep a side arm in case things go awry. It was a good call, and France noted to herself that she won't ever fire a shot for this mission as to not raise any sort of attention in addition to what Shepherd already gave them.

"Looks like it's time to go." Soap muttered as Ghost passed through them looking prepared.

Soap nodded goodbye to the man but he just continued walking.

"Maybe he had earphones on." he muttered as he pouted his lips. France softly reached for his cheek and shoved it sideways.

"In your dreams." She laughed as she waved goodbye.

"Every night." He winked as France made an almost disgusted face and followed Ghost. She was lucky enough that she quickly moved that Soap won't see her blushing cheeks.

France hoisted herself on the shotgun of the car and smiled at her partner, who looked serious. Without his mask, he was your average tough british soldier, and he looked like he wasn't in for some small talk while driving. France respected his privacy and trailed her eyes elsewhere, looking at the lush greenery and muddy tracks of tropical Brazil.

France wasn't a fan of quiet road trips, she tried humming to tunes from her playlist as the loud revving of the rental jeep overpowered her voice.

"Are you usually this quiet?" France asked, trying to break the silence between them.

"Yeah. You got a problem with that?" He replied, his eyes trailed on the road as it hit a bump. France actually felt shocked toward his reply and she started to worry about what she did wrong.

"You know you could always say no to Price's orders instead of regretting and wishing Roach would be here instead of me." She pouted, crossing her arms.

"Well that wasn't my case but now that you said it, maybe I should've asked for Roach instead!" He yelled. France couldn't help but shed a tear. She actually had no idea towards his hostility and the thought of not knowing any reason made her mad.

"Wow. Okay." she squirmed and unbuckled her seatbelt causing Ghost to slow down his driving.

"Where are you going? The village is still far from here!" he asked, France never bothered to talk to him as she simply walked away from the path.

Ghost immediately left the vehicle and followed her, catching her so she won't escape and run away.

"Why are you not replying?!" He asked, gripping her hands, restricting her movement. France used her strength to break free of his slightly weak grip and turned to him.

"You see now how it feels? To ignore someone without knowing why?!" She raised her voice. This seemed to make sense to Simon as he actually looked like he's sorry.

"I… " he sighed and looked at her, his eyes were lost and sad.

"I can't talk to you anymore… because I like you… but you've already set your eyes on someone else… so I just had to ignore you hoping that it'll make it less painful." he muttered. Complete silence filled the air.

France didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to say. It may be true that she already had eyes on a certain Scottish cutie, but telling him the truth all over again would leave such mental scars.

It took her long enough to say something that Ghost already invited her back to the car, and her silence may leave no meaning, but to Ghost it meant a lot, at least he knew that he no longer had a chance on her and would finally move on.

The village was like any other typical village, the elder's house would always be on the highest point and the two opted to ask the village elder first to gather clues.

One clue led to another as they visited each house looking for one Fabian Alvarez, a nephew of an alleged Shadow Company soldier. Only a few were able to speak fluent english and they decided to help, until such time that Fabian decided to show up.

He looked like a five year old kid, holding a rubber ball and he looked at France and Ghost awkwardly before hiding back into his house. Fabian was far too young to know about his uncle's whereabouts and the lead went cold once again.

The ride home was quiet. France didn't want to say anything as she can't. Her heart was like inside a washing machine, swirling around as she thought of how Ghost liked her while she's clearly liking someone else. It must've been hella awkward and painful to see on a daily basis. She felt that once, when her best friend got together with her high school crush and continued to stay together up to this day… She knew how he felt.

~

The moment they got back, she was actually greeted by Soap, who already had his hands wide open for a hug. As usual, France would ignore his gesture and it now felt that she was already helping out Ghost from the pain. But now, she's the one feeling restricted.

It pained her to not get near Soap and he's already starting to notice the indifference. She was actually surprised when he cornered her, just as soon as she stepped out of the shower.

Her cheeks flushed as the idea of her, only wrapped with a towel, stood in front of Soap. She felt really vulnerable in this position.

"What happened out there?" he looked angry but the tone of his voice sounded concerned.

"Nothing, it's just … A dead lead. A waste of time." She replied as she attempted to cross over him.

"And how does that warrant an indifferent approach toward me?" he quickly moved to block her again. She sighed at her actions. He was right. He didn't deserve this treatment, he needed to learn something about the truth.

"We had a little fight with your friend over there…" She muttered, her voice was low enough so he couldn't hear.

"Who, Ghost?" he inched his face closer and his face lit up like a curious bystander who overhears conversations on a daily basis.

"Yeah… It was an unpleasant exchange." She said vaguely.

"Well, it'll all be resolved soon. I guess you're too carried away that you didn't want to talk to me as well…" he chuckled and scratched the back of his head. That gesture always made France happy, he may not notice it but she loves the way his muscles twitch when he scratches his nape. She found it satisfying and hot.

"Yeah… I'll go change." She said, as she frowned as soon as they parted. She knew she had to tell him the specific reason and the events that occured today, but she felt that it would create a domino effect that would lead the team to be uncooperative.

During bedtime, Alex requested France to swap sleeping spaces, meaning that she had to lie down beside Soap. She couldn't find the courage to say no as it might ruin the reunion they both longed for after a very long time.

France swung the door open and found out that they were already asleep, except for Ghost who was once again missing. She used this opportunity to actually wake Soap up and let him be aware that she'll be sleeping beside him. She planned to make both men comfortable by spacing herself between them, by only showing affection to Soap while Ghost's not around, until such time that Ghost would accept the inevitable truth.

"John." She whispered, as Soap lazily opened his eyes and reached out for her, wrapping her in his arms.

"I really like you. A lot. I hope you'll be patient enough for me." She whispered again. She knew he wouldn't hear it but the idea of her actually expressing her thoughts to him, put her at ease, as she slowly closed her eyes and drifted to sleep, wrapped by the arms of the man whom she really admired.

Next Chapter : If I Remember Correctly

Notification Squad my Beloved

@ricinbach @whimsywispsblog @smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @enderio @beemybee

[jeagerism]

wish you were here

✒ word count : 4.2k

✒ characters : park jimin x reader

✒ warnings : sadness, like hella sadness im sorry, break up!au, reader just misses him lots, small amounts of fluff, cursing, seeing the person you love with someone new, first dates, moving on, crying

✒ summary : You're sitting in your bathtub eating marshmallows at 3 in the morning three weeks after the break up, and you're doing fine, you really are. But then, all of a sudden, you're crying and realising how much you miss him.

✒ author's note : as i wrote more and more i was like...hmmm. jimin. here is the completed fic im scared to post this didusissj but if i don't i might die so. hope u guys like dis one xoxo it's my first jimin imagine pls do not hurt me im trying :o

It's 6 p.m. on a Saturday when it happens.

The curtains are open slightly in the living room, rays of golden sunlight reaching just past where your feet rest on the couch. You're typing up an essay when Jimin slips through the door, toeing his shoes off. Five-fifty, just like clockwork. The coat he wears everyday goes on the same hook - third from the left. He shuffles over to the couch and presses his lips to the crown of your head, just like always.

It's easy to fall into routine.

Another episode of Sex Education plays in the background, long forgotten after an hour of staring at the same screen. You're pretty sure your brain is fried. But you'd made a promise to yourself that you'd finish this essay today, so you make due. 

"Hey." The way your lips stretch into a smile is hard to control, even more so when he copies your actions. He falls onto the couch beside you, leaning into the cushions with a hum. He smells like the strawberries and honey body wash in the bathroom.

You let your eyes study him for a few seconds, then go back to typing, and it's quiet, just like always. It feels normal. Nothing's different. 

Until it is.

"I think we should break up."

Of the five years you've known Jimin, you've been through a lot. And while most of it had been dealing with things much bigger than yourselves, bigger than romance and first kisses, you'd had your fair share of relationship issues.

But things were good. He would come home every day, smiling, press that same kiss to your forehead. Sit right beside you, leaning into your side, his warmth seeping into you. Sometimes he'd play with your fingers, a thing that kept him occupied and calm. You knew Jimin, you knew all his habits, what made him tick, how he acted when he was sad, or happy, or angry.

"Y/N?"

"I can't", you breathe out, so softly it's barely audible. And you wonder if he can even hear you. If he can hear the way you're trying to gather up everything you're feeling right now and trying to shove it down, down, down. "I don't understand? I need, can you-" 

And as much as you know Jimin, he knows you all the same. He knows you're panicking, and normally, he'd grab your hands and help you breathe. In for three, out for three. In for three out for three. He doesn't do that this time. He doesn't even look at you.

"I'm just not...happy. I'm not happy and I don't think I make you happy anymore, either."

But you do. He does, Jimin makes you so happy that sometimes you forget how to breathe. He makes you so happy that you love everything about him, even the things that drive you insane sometimes. So happy that you pick up the clothes he leaves on the floor after his shower, or place his shoes back neatly, or cook his favorite food for him whenever he asks.

These are the things you want to tell him. You want to tell him it all and more, but the only thing that comes out is :

"Okay."

Because what else can you say? He's just said that he's not happy with you anymore, and he's so close but farther away than ever, and he's not even looking at you.

In for three, out for three. But you still can't breathe. And this time, as his words fall on near deaf ears - something about "my stuff" and "sometime later" and "you stay, I'll go" - and he slips his shoes and coat back on, and it's quiet, it's not because you're happy.

You can't breathe because it hurts. You're not sure of how long you stay on the couch, computer running hot on your lap, a "Are you still watching" message on the tv. But when you finally look up, it's dark. 

And you take a breath. Dragging yourself to Jimin and your bedroom - your bedroom - takes more of an effort than you'll admit, but you get there. The pillow is cool against your burning cheek. You allow your eyes to close tight, because his side of the bed is never this cold.

All you can do is breathe. In for three, out for three. Something you'd learned from him, with him. 

It's all you can do to keep yourself from breaking.

He takes you on your first date in September.

It's bowling, which is a stereotypical first date, but it's him, so you don't really mind. 

Park Jimin is nervous. It's evident in the way he wipes his hands on his pants before he holds your hand. The way he gets quiet after laughing at one of your jokes, as if he's afraid of being too loud or happy.

"No fair!", you call, speaking through a pout. "You've got like, superhuman abilities or something. You're obviously gonna win." Crossing your arms, you shake your head. "I think we should label this as cheating."

Jimin chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not trying, though." 

You make a noise of protest. "That's even worse!" Leaning closer to him, a furrow in your eyebrows, you huff. "Are you saying I'm just plain ole bad at bowling, Park?"

"You said it, not me." It's the first joke he's made all night. You laugh, eyes closing just from the force. "I could, uh, I could help you? If you want. Since I'm so good and everything." The last part is said teasingly, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

You stand, ruffling his hair with a smile. "Teach me then." By the time you've grabbed the ball you've been using the entire time, he's right behind you. Sticking your fingers in the holes, you twist it around lightly. 

"I see why you're so bad now." You turn, opening your mouth to defend yourself. "You're not even holding the ball right, you know."

"Well, I'm sorry I was never taught bowling ball holding basics. I didn't even know you could hold one of these-"

He interrupts you with a hand on your waist, delicate and soft. His fingers rest just above the top of your jeans, brushing against soft skin. "Like this", he murmurs. Jimin's other hand adjusts your own. "And then this." He keeps his hand atop yours, and brings your arm back, helping you swing it forward. You're so focused on how close he is that you don't notice you still need to let go of the ball.

Lips brushing against the side of your cheek, Jimin hums. You shiver. "You know, this doesn't actually work unless you let go of the ball when you swing, pretty girl." 

You feel like you're going to combust. Park Jimin just called you pretty. Park Jimin, the boy you've had a crush on for months. Called you pretty. Blinking, you swing your arm back with him again, and let it go when it comes forward. Not caring if the ball hits the pins or not, you rotate, until you're face to face with him. All soft, silky hair and lips that look as soft as pillows. 

"What?" He raises an eyebrow, another pretty flush spreading over his cheeks. 

"Can I kiss you?"

The noise that comes from him mirrors the shock on his face that quickly morphs into timidness. "Like you even have to ask, Y/N." 

His lips feel even softer than they look. You've had a first kiss before, but this is the only one that's felt right. Something in you tells you that means something. When you pull away, you're smiling, breathless.

"Hey", Jimin whispers, nodding his head behind you. "You knocked down all the pins."

As he walks you home, he holds your hand.

"I'm glad we got to do this", Jimin says, and his eyes don't meet your own until you squeeze his hand tight. You think about how he'd wrapped you up in the extra sweater he'd been wearing when he'd noticed you were cold. How he'd pulled you closer when walking down the sidewalk because people were bumping into you, and had held you that way the entire way back.

"Me too." You grin, watching the pink on his cheeks spread to his ears and down his neck. His smile mirrors yours regardless. 

Jimin sighs. "I'm, um, sorry if it was lame. I know bowling is kinda...well, kinda bland for a first date-"

"It was perfect." You let your fingers detangle as you back up. "Best first date I've ever had." 

His cheeks swell with a big, boyish grin. "Next time I'll take you to the arcade downtown." A smirk. "Maybe that time you can beat me in something."

You always thought that if Jimin ever left you, you'd cry.

Not that you thought of it often, but it still came up once or twice. Every time it did, he was always right there, with soothing words and soft lips pressed against the tip of your nose. 

So, the fact that you don't cry surprises you.

You don't cry, and a part of you thinks that, if you did, it would never stop. 

Your sadness turns into anger at every reminder of him around your apartment. There's traces of him everywhere, a forced memory no matter where you step. So you keep breathing. You take a breath. 

You take a breath when you see his lunchbox he took to work with him every day. When you visit your friends and they ask how plans for the yearly Halloween party you'd always throw with him are going. When you see a news article about him and the boy's album release. You breathe.

Because you are angry with him. Angry for making you waste your time, making you think that it was you and him. That he still loved you, and that you knew him.

Going back in your head, everything had seemed fine. The two of you hardly fought, you told each other I love you every morning and every night. You still had your weekly movie nights every Friday. You laughed together. 

Nothing had changed, right? You knew him, right?

A week after he's been gone, it hits you that you never knew him that well at all.

You didn't even know him well enough to tell that he was falling out of love with you.

Two weeks after the breakup, and you no longer feel angry. You feel the dragging feeling of sadness creep up on you again. The anger probably would've stayed, but he'd come to get his stuff earlier in the week. 

He forgets a few things, but you don't say anything. Why don't you say anything?

Getting used to life without him is a process. You forget that you don't have to buy those off brand crackers he likes. You never wake up in the morning to his humming in the shower. Things...change.

The bed was never this big, was it? It always seemed small, small enough that the two of you always crowded together, legs tangled together, arms around waists.

Now, it's massive. You pull the blanket up to your chin, and even though you probably shouldn't, you press your cheek into his pillow. 

When you fall asleep, you dream of him.

His skin is bathed in moonlight, pale and soft. The two of you sit in the big clawfoot bathtub, the one you both loved, empty and fully clothed. He's quiet, and anyone else would think that's because it's nearing three in the morning, but you know him. You recognize the subtle shaking of his hands, the sweat beading at his hairline even though it was freezing inside the apartment, the way he taps his fingers together in rhythm.

You know him.

"Hey." It's the first word spoken since you'd sat down. He's facing you, curls going every which way from attempting to sleep earlier. Holding up the bag you'd snagged before you'd followed him in here, you grin. "Want some marshmallows?"

Jimin's lips twitch into a smile, and even though it disappears as quickly as it came, it's something. Massive hand plunging into the bag, he grabs a handful and proceeds to shove a few in his mouth. You settle for popping them in one by one; the small, colorful bits melt on your tongue. 

The bag empties faster than expected, so soon you have nothing to occupy yourselves. As you start to suggest opening the other bag in the pantry, he speaks.

"It's happening again", his shoulders rise up to his ears. His hands rest in between his knees, tangled together, fidgeting.

With a heavy sigh, you lay a hand across his own. "I know." Jimin's eyes meet yours, honey colored and exhausted. The bags under his eyes are more prominent than they have been, and although it's not as bad as the last few times, it's still bad.

"I don't want it to happen again."

And well, you don't quite know what to say to that. Because you don't either. This feeling was always with him, always simmering underneath the surface. It never completely disappeared, but it did get easier to deal with. It was bearable, almost nonexistent at times.

You know it hurts him, and him hurting makes you hurt. He deserves so much good, he is too good, to have so much weight on his shoulders. To be plagued with so much anxiety and pain, and for what? You don't even know the answer.

No one is perfect, as living with him for this many years often reminds you. He's definitely not. He leaves his shoes in the middle of the floor. He forgets to replace the tissue when the roll runs out. He's never had a plant that's lasted more than a week, because he's either not here or just forgets. 

So no, he's not perfect. But you know damn well he's the closest thing to it you have.

"I'll be here." You swallow, fingers slotting in between his. "I am here. No matter what, rain or shine, you know that." Jimin lifts the side of his lips into a smile. "I love you."

Switching in his spot, he turns, leaning back against your chest, rejoining your hands soon after. "I know." He brushes his lips across your knuckles. "I love you, too."

Your other hand combs through his hair, twirling curls around your fingers like thread.

The two of you don't retire to your bed until the sun begins to peak over the horizon.

You wake up with sweat beading at your hairline.

In for three, out for three.

You ignore the phantom taste of marshmallows on your tongue. A shaky hand pushes the blankets off of your body, and you're taking the familiar path to the kitchen before you can really think. There's a bag of mini marshmallows where they always are. You grab them, tearing a whole in the top as you walk towards the bathroom. 

When your back meets the familiar chill of the tub, you can feel the way your throat begins closing up. But you push it away with a hand full of marshmallows, which distracts you from the aching burn settled deep in your chest.

You've never done this alone. Every time you've sat in this exact same position, marshmallows in hand, he's been here. But there's always time for change. At least that's what you tell yourself.

You'd spent all your time in this tub with Jimin. There weren't any more of those times. No more late night baths where you just talked about your days. No more pic nics on the living room floor when you didn't feel like going out. No more hugs or I love you's or simply just seeing him across the room. 

And another. In for three, out for three. Focus on something else. Anything else but him. Your eyes switch from the wall to the bottle of soap on the ledge of the tub. Strawberries and honey. His favorite. Something else. The two towels hanging on the rack, one yellow and one red. You remember picking them out the night you moved in. It's getting harder to see with the tears in your eyes, but it's fine. It's fine.

Because you don't miss him. You can't, because the smell of strawberries and honey are fading from the pillow that's beside yours. The red towel hasn't been used in a month. There's never a box of off-brand crackers with his name on them in the cabinet anymore. And he's not here.

And you can't wish that he is. 

September is different this time.

The streets are full of people, and you're filled with a happy sort of warmth as you wait outside of a coffee shop. Rubbing your hands together, you blow warm air on them to rid yourself of the numbness starting to creep in. It's the type of cold that sets in slowly. You nudge your nose against the scarf you're wearing with a shiver.

People around you pass by with smiles, arms full of bags or holding others hands. It's peaceful.

"You're going to drop them!"

Glancing up, your eyes dart around until they find the source of the noise. There's a part of you that wishes you hadn't. A part of you that wants to shove your nose back into the fabric around your neck. 

Seeing Park Jimin is...weird.

There's a certain type of irony in the way that you see him during your first September without him. It twists and tears at you with bleeding fists.

"Jimin, let me carry some!"

The girl next to him is pretty. She's more than pretty. Jealousy ebbs in your chest for a mere moment at the smile he gives her, the way his eyes sparkle. Remembering how he used to look at you like that pours salt onto the wound. 

His hair is blond now. He looks good. Jimin had always looked good, though. There's no doubt in your mind that he's one of the prettiest people you've ever met. But he looks good. He looks like he's glowing. He looks...happy.

I'm just not...happy anymore.

"I've got it", he laughs, leaning his head back with a smile. Turning, he regains his grip on the bags, switching his gaze over, over, over. "See, like…" His eyes are sparkling. He looks happy. Is this what he meant?

I'm not happy and I don't think I make you happy anymore, either.

"Y/N?"

You quickly avert your eyes, turning and stuffing your hands into your pockets with a huff of breath you can see in the cold air. For a second, you can hear his footsteps getting closer. Of all the ways you thought you'd bump into him, it was safe to say this wasn't on the list. Seeing him wasn't on the list at all. Avoiding the problem until it went away seemed like a good enough plan.

Just as you're ready to turn around and face him, even if you really do not want to, a hand lands on your shoulder. Gentle.

The endless run on thoughts of what you're going to say become muddled as you open your eyes. 

"Sorry it took so long. Since someone wanted peppermint hot chocolate, even though they were obviously going to be running out, I had to wait a little longer." The corner of his lips lift into a grin. "Didn't mind though. Anything for you, I suppose." 

You shake your head with a smile as he hands you the cup. "Thank you." The drink warms your hands, the numbness melting away. 

"Ready to go?"

Jimin's behind you. Jimin is behind you with a girl who may not even be his girlfriend, but a girl who makes him happy. Makes him smile. 

And you think you're a little okay with it. 

You don't really have a choice, but. It's easier to swallow than you'd expected. 

You've learned to live without him. And even though there's a piece of you screaming and throwing a fit like a child that just wants and wants, you don't break. 

"Yeah. I am."

Pivoting, you walk forward. He's still relatively far away, but close enough that you can see him in your peripheral vision. Close enough that you make eye contact once more as he readjusts the bags in his arms. Close enough that you see the sparkle in his eyes.

You take a breath as your shoulders pass, mere inches of space between you. He still feels far away.

In for three, out for three. Breathe in.

It smells like strawberries and honey.

You smack your lips together as you continue on.

You're craving marshmallows.

Two Months Before

Park Jimin is scared.

Which isn't something he'd normally admit so easily. But, given the circumstances, he doesn't think too much of it.

Filling his cheeks with air, he gnaws on his bottom lip in thought. He's been chewing on it for so long he'll probably tear a whole in it, but he can't help it. Thinking back on the conversation he'd had hours before scares him. Leaves him with an unsettling feeling in his stomach. Anxious, deadly butterflies.

"How're things with Y/N?" Taehyung sits back, sipping from a stark white coffee mug. "Not that we don't see you guys every two weeks, but, you know."

Jimin laughs, shaking his head. "They're good. She's good, amazing." He's smiling so wide his cheeks hurt. 

"God, stop looking like a lovesick fool", his friend teases. He tilts his head, scoffing. "Propose already." Jimin must look as lost as he feels, because Taehyung raises an eyebrow. "You okay?"

He blinks, rolling his shoulders. "Yeah, I'm good. I guess I just...never thought about it. Marriage and stuff. I mean, I have, I just…" He shrugs, eyebrows furrowed. "Never really thought about it too in detail." Why does his stomach feel like this?

"Do you want to marry her?"

"Yes." The answer is instant. Something hidden underneath, but something all known. 

Taehyung smiles. "That was pretty fast. Are you sure you've never thought about it?"

Jimin wets his lips, clearing his throat. "Guess it just...doesn't make sense with anyone else. It makes sense with her though. It feels right."

The blue haired male across from him smirks, huffing out a laugh. "Guess you'll need a ring then, huh?"

Marriage had always been a far away concept. Something to be worried about later down the line. It seemed like, without even realising it, down the line had come sooner than he expected. He's known Y/N for five years, and while every moment has been one he wouldn't give up, it's sped by so fast. 

But when he thinks about it, it doesn't make sense if it isn't her. Nothing makes sense if it's not her. If he closes his eyes and pictures his wedding day, no matter what, in every scenario, every way you look at it, she's the one walking down the aisle. Every time. It's her.

Jimin reaches into the dresser drawer beside the bed, feeling around until he finds what he's searching for. His fingers brush against the velvet box he'd shoved in there an hour earlier. When he brings it out, the butterflies in his stomach have friends. 

He wants to marry her. He wants to do it right. He wants to put this ring on her finger and watch her eyes light up. And plan the wedding with her and discuss color schemes and where to seat guests at the reception. Wants to kiss her in front of a room of people as his wife for the first time. He wants to adopt a dog and buy a house with a backyard.

Park Jimin wants to do all of this, and he wants it to feel right, and it only feels right with her.

But if she said no. If she didn't want him the way he wanted her. Park Jimin is terrifyingly in love with her. The type of love that makes him crazy. That makes him wake up early just to pull her back into his arms, because he knows how she likes being held. Because he knows her.

So if she didn't need him like he needed her, he doesn't think he'd be able to handle it. Because she may be able to walk away and find someone new, but he won't.

She's it for him. This is it for him. He doesn't think there's ever gonna be anyone else. 

He's loved her every day since the moment he met her.

The not wanting is what might tear him to pieces. Can nervous butterflies die?

The sound of keys turning in lock nab his attention, and he jumps to his feet, heart in his throat. Something in him aches. "Jimin? I'm home!"

Rubbing his thumb over the velvet box once more, he slips it back into the drawer, way in the back. He closes it, and breathes. In for three, out for three. Jimin looks up, and puts on a smile, even with this ache.

He loves her.

"Coming!"

✒ tags : @lysjeon @goldenlilyz @savageprince7

[jisssooyah]

Hi you... if you were going to curate a little season of films for me, which ones would you choose and why? They don't need to be horror, I'm just curious what you would choose 🌸

I don’t know if you’ll like these movies, or if you’ve already watched them, but after i watched these films, i felt like they might need to belong to you now. i hope they make you smile, roll your eyes, and cry just as much as i did.

1. city of god (2002): this is one of the most immersive and gorgeously shot films i’ve ever seen. it’s set in rio de janeiro during the 60s and spans decades exploring the drug culture in the slums and how this can affect kids just as they are trying to figure their own selves out. the way this film is shot, feels like you were at the sea with them as the sand crunched underneath your feet. but the way that the director captures these individuals, makes you so fucking relieved that you don’t live through any of the circumstances that they go through. 

2. the dreamers (2004): set in 1968, this film follows three students in Paris who come of age and explore one another and their limits during the revolution. while these students prop themselves up as individuals obsessed with sex, running underneath themselves is a current of jealousy, obsession, and blurred familial relationships that made me increasingly uncomfortable. you find yourself feeling bad for the children, and ultimately upset at their upbringing because of their parents. 

3. if beale street could talk (2018): this movie is based off of james baldwin’s titular 1974 novel. in it, the director expertly and vigorously explores love: a love that feels so real that it hurts. the cast is what sold this film to me. the way they talk, laugh, cry, and smile at one another is achingly beautiful and terrifyingly sad. i wanted to transport myself back to their time period and watch the main characters fall in love because the film didn’t seem like enough. 

4. the neon demon (2016): this film follows an emerging model who sacrifices herself to the demands of the industry in order to be attractive and beautiful. there are so many stunning colors in this film that it makes you dizzy, like you’re in a trance and that’s what this world is for the main character: a trance. as she oscillates between reality and fantasy, her world and the characters in it, increasingly seek out to alter her personality. 

5. death becomes her (1992): a deliberately ultra-campy parody of trashy, pandering "women's pictures," soap operas and paperbacks from the '80s and '90s. The three leads all do some of their best work - it's hilarious watching Meryl Streep play a terrible actress, Goldie Hawn is particularly hilarious during her character's cat lady phase, and all around just a really fun and eccentric film. 

6. princess cyd (2017): i can’t think of anything to write for this but i just wanna say that this is literally one of the most pleasant movie experiences i’ve ever had. so much light and genuine interaction in warm sun rays radiating positive energy and an openness that is far too uncommon in movies nowadays. people talk, people connect, people grow bonds and are allowed to be sexual or intimate or personal without an air of shame or judgement. just pure kind and curious human association. 

7. spiderman: into the spiderverse (2018): the message of Spider-Verse is not "gentrify yourself! stop expressing your personality and just conform to what society wants you to be!" After all, what makes you different makes you Spider-Man, and Miles' final expression of himself as a superhero still retains much of his personality and individuality...they're just being used in more productive and fulfilling ways. It's the little things that drive the point home, like noticing that the title page for Miles' finished Great Expectations essay has been stylistically doodled and colored like street art. Rather than seeing his artistic gifts as an opposition to his schoolwork, Miles infuses them together to make the best of the hand he's been dealt.

8. my life as a zucchini (2016): initially heartbreaking and sad, but slowly becoming more joyful and heartwarming as the plot moves along. The film really feels like it captures the essence and child like wonder of these kids, all of them going through hardships but managing to find something to help each other out. It’s so refreshing to see the actual orphanage portrayed in a more positive light, not the usual horrid dump that a lot of lesser movies play them out as. The animation is stunning. One of the best uses of stop motion I’ve seen, everything is so colourful and detailed. There’s some moments set in snowy mountains and these look incredible. There’s clearly been so much love and care put into each and every scene here. The music too, sounds spectacular, it really works well with each scene. 

9. lovesong (2016): Mindy and Sarah have that type of relationship where they don't need words because they speak in a language made out of glances and touches. This movie is about the fear of ruining a meaningful friendship and losing an important person, about love that is so complicated that one might not even try because the outcome seems to be so obvious.

10. her (2013): Heartbreak is formative: it changes you heart side out, and leaves your muscles a little stronger, your skin a little thicker, your bones easier to repair. Before this film, I’d never seen anything constructive in having your insides pulled apart by the seams by another person, but this film taught me how. Being in love and then being forced out of it is an experience that changes you fundamentally, but Her taught me its purpose – you don’t need them to leave you so that you can find someone who’s a better fit, because perhaps you never will. You need it to participate in humanity. The common denominator is being hurt, and without it, you’re barely alive.

11. shoplifters (2018): bittersweet and richly transportive, Shoplifters is a film that nonchalantly eases you into its tragic beauty in a way that doesn't punch you hard until the end. It simultaneously made me want to be part of the film's world and also very glad that I'm not. The setting the characters live in is messy and cluttered and full of dysfunction and lies, but it's also got family, and laughter, and fist-bumps, and slurping warm noodles while rain pings on the tin rooftop. So nuanced, so many tiny moments of delicate beauty and unassuming heartbreak, so many people making terrible decisions with good intentions.

12. god’s own country (2017): though it is a love story between two men, this aspect is only addressed briefly in a single scene. Rather, the film is about finding someone who makes you want to be a better person, someone who comes into your life just when you needed it most. Gheorghe helps Johnny open up and realize the beauty of the simple life. From this relationship, Johnny begins to feel comfortable with expressing himself, and his love and gratitude towards others. He also begins to appreciate life in the country, surrounded by stunning landscapes and the beauty of simplicity. Addressing the Yorkshire countryside, Gheorghe says "It is beautiful, but lonely." Johnny is presented with the notion that he doesn't have to be cold and miserable, slaving and drinking his days away. He is presented with the possibility of no longer being alone and finally finding happiness and contentment - and it is more than gratifying to see him accept it.

13. disobedience (2017): a tender star-crossed daydream. the three main character dynamics are special enough on their own, but the romance that blooms at the center is cathartically intimate and even magical: a reunion that feels so inevitable. catching glimpses of a past life, details we aren’t privy to. all the stolen kisses and whispers and promises. a bond so strong that they fall back in sync with each other like second nature, even if they try to fight against it. even if it won’t work. and yet they choose each other, even if for a few minutes.

14. raw (2016): this film is so gross and I like that. There is tons of blood and unique body horror and it all works perfectly for the tone the film is attempting to set. The use of color, specifically neons, creates a constant feeling that you are traveling through some sort of weird ghost world, which I really like. Overall, it's a very well put together film with flashes of brilliance.

15. the night is short, walk on girl (2017): what an absolutely magical adventure of a film. Essentially this is a heavily episodic look at a night in the lives of several people, centered on a woman and a man as she gleefully floats from event to event while he neurotically obsesses over how to "coincidentally" talk to her. The storytelling is incredible; while the overarching narrative is simple there are countless threads woven together to connect everyone in the story to each other. That in itself is a big theme: connections between people, how everything is interrelated, and what a large impact seemingly insignificant things people do can have an impact on everyone around them.

16. coraline (2009): Coraline is the best stop motion movie ever made in my opinion. Before the film released in 2009, I read the book and was completely blown away by its creativity and story. It’s a pretty dark tale featuring many scenes of fright that work well in both a horror setting and an animated kids setting. On surface value, this film is quite horrifying, which is something I’ve always loved about it. While it does make a few minor changes to the book, it improves upon a piece of art that was already jaw-droppingly good. Coraline feels like a real little girl with some real problems. She’s selfish but likable which is something most films cannot translate well. Of course, she has a pretty awesome arc as well which brings this movie to a perfect close for her character. The other-mother is also perfectly done. She is almost exactly how I imagined her in the book and the animation on her is spookily gorgeous. There is not one dull moment in this film. It is literally a perfect piece of cinema.

17. the third wife (2019): haven’t seen a film this visually delicate in a while. Ash Mayfair works with the looming mountain surroundings to make her characters —these women, these girls— as small as possible, as isolated as possible. Uneasiest of all is the protagonist May, so young and so weighed by responsibility, her position blurs between being one of the wives and being one of the daughters. It’s an extremely bleak tale of circumstance. An old tale, certainly, but so beautifully crafted it doesn’t matter. Mayfair holds a fearful tension throughout, and it only ever shatters in the cruelest of ways.The abundance of women and display of sisterhood begin as a comfort, but horror takes over as we realize how conditional and fragile that comfort is. Even the daughters are subconsciously aware, one of them praying to the gods to grow up and become a man, shearing her hair off in naive triumph. It’s a doomed cycle of girls performing roles which are unfortunately their best option, right up until the final scene of May with her daughter, still in their mourning clothes. She, like the older wives, finally realizes they’re the same as the cattle laying on their side for too many days.

[fly-pow-bye]

Powerpuff Girls 2016 - “Memory Lane of Pain”

Written by: Haley Mancini, Jake Goldman

Written & Storyboarded by: Phil Jacobson, John West, Andy Cung

Directed by: Nick Jennings, Bob Boyle

There are far too many easy jokes to make here.

The episode starts with Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup flying back home to talk about their latest adventure. While the original would actually show this battle, the reboot is fine with just having the Puffs talk about it instead. Then again, it was about fighting boxes.

Buttercup bumps into a box, and that unseen battle gives Buttercup the excuse to eye laser it. This box was held by the Professor, who was in a position where the eye laser would have went right through his body. Thankfully for him, his lab coat is heat resistant!

SCIENCE!

UNNECESSARY!

The Professor is actually sorting together photos and other momentos for a "Hall of Fame-ily"! The show takes the time to point out how its own pun is unfunny. His excuse for making it? So they can remember what happened after that accident with the amnesia ray! My first instinct is that this is yet another excuse for why the reboot is different they'll never mention again, much like the giant guinea pig that destroyed Pokey Oaks.

This confusion expands even further when Blossom pulls out an old photo of her facing off against a zombie magician! And not just any Blossom or zombie magician, either...

...but it happens to be a screenshot of the original show’s Abracadaver! This even comes with a rendition of the original show's theme song as well.

Blossom: Man, I looked so different back then. And better written. And more badass! Man, I should aspire to be this good again!

Okay, she really only says the first line. While it’s not “Teen Titans Go making fun of the haters by making a fake tease for Teen Titans Season 6” or “Teen Titans Go calling people who hate the show crying babies”, it’s not exactly a tribute either. Thankfully, this is the only time they drag out the original; a good decision on their part.

By the way, if they were affected by that amnesia ray, how come Blossom can remember this? I guess this amnesia works just like those stock amnesia plots. A better question: why keep talking about the original if this was supposed to be a reboot? Buttercup wet willies Blossom with a tentacle to make the viewer forget this. No, context will not make it better.

While Blossom and Buttercup are happy looking at their many memories, Bubbles can’t seem to find memories that she can look at fondly. The Professor tries to tell her what she did, but as the loving father that he is, he can't seem to recall. He does find some newspaper clippings, but the news wasn't too kind, either.

Yeah, they really are trying to make it seem like Bubbles, or the "Pig-Tail" as she's apparently known, is the worthless one of the three. In order for this plot to work, we have to ignore Boogie Frights, Bubblevicious, Mime For A Change, Bubblevision, and Three Girls and a Monster. If Abracadaver is canon, so are those. Even if we only count the reboot episodes, because “LOL, amnesia ray”, there’s Power-Up Puff, Viral Spiral, and Splitsville. Splitsville shared all but one of the writers and storyboarders of this episode, so there's no excuse.

Blossom tries to call back to a time where Bubbles was helpful, and pulls out a dolly of Salvador Dali. Some may be thinking that this episode is going to turn into City of Clipsville, as it already has the "box of mementos" theme going on. They'd be slightly right, though a more accurate title would be "City of Episode Ideas We Couldn't Stretch Into Twelve Minutes...Ville".

We see a new villain named the Rubber Bandit, who uses rubber bands to steal things. He's at a Salvador Dolly store, which sells dolls based on the famous artist! It's funny because Dolly and Dali sound alike!

The Powerpuff Girls, disguised as the dollies, reveal themselves, ready to stop this madness. The Rubber Bandit tries to defeat them by flinging rubber bands at them, and I'm surprised it doesn't work. As a Plan B, the Rubber Bandit offers them one of the Salvador Dollys with a new frilly purple dress! Blossom and Buttercup aren't too interested, but guess who is!

Bubbles is so happy, we get this lovely frame of animation. She thinks it's so cute, with it's dress and the ticking noise it makes. It then explodes, revealing it to be retrofitted with a rubber band bomb that ties them up in giant rubber bands they can't get out of. Yup, tie them up, and they're as helpless as Olive Oyl. Rope, rubber bands, I'm sure you can tie them up in dental floss and I wouldn't even bat an eye at this point.

He then gets away, but not before bumping into a window first. I think this is supposed to signify that the Powerpuff Girls could have easily handled this villain, if it wasn't for that useless pig-unnecessary hyphen-tail!

Suddenly, a clock turns into a face, which then melts like the famous Salvador Dali painting! We cut to the present for a second so Buttercup can say that wasn’t what happened. It's that joke from Green Wing, except instead of senility, it's...

Blossom: Shh...amnesia ray!

The "amnesia ray" explanation isn't just to explain why the Reboot Puffs are so different from the 1998 ones; it also gets episodes out of plot the holes it writes themselves into. They suddenly get out of the shop with no explanation on how they got out of the rubber bands. That amnesia ray is never mentioned again, and to be honest, it shouldn't have been mentioned at all.

After that, the Rubber Bandit gets away in his monster truck. This plot must have came from the crew's Mad Libs session. Blossom has an idea: use a rubber band slingshot to throw a giant lobster telephone sculpture that adorns the shop to stop the getaway vehicle. At least that's a Salvador Dali reference!

They crush the car, making the Rubber Bandit fly out of the car. Blossom flies in to grab him and flies him right into the ground.

A rare action scene in this superhero comedy. Unfortunately, the Rubber Bandit wasn't harmed by this, because...

Rubber Bandit: I'm rubber, and you're glue!

Blossom follows that with a one liner that is totally not a placeholder joke they decided to keep in.

Blossom: Actually, I'm laser eyes!

Rubber Bandit, likely confused by the lack of actual wit, gets eye lasered by Blossom. While he himself is unharmed, the rubber bands that made up his overalls have melted him into a rubber ball. She then bounces it like a basketball, and throws it across town.

It then gets dunked by Salvador Dali himself! Because he's wacky! Blossom short end, Bubbles is unhappy.

Bubbles is upset because that story didn't make her look good, and Blossom responds that she confused herself with Bubbles. The Professor agrees. In a lot of episodes, I agree, too. It's a problem with this reboot; especially in episodes with the rascally little green princess in the spotlight, Blossom and Bubbles usually play the same role. It's usually Penelope Pitstop. Speaking of which, both on the green girl and Penelope Pitstop...

We flash back to a time where the Powerpuff Girls faced off against Popsicles, which is pronounced pop-see-clees. While spelling may be tough for them, at least I can’t fault them for a creative use of pronunciations. He likes to turn people into ice cream! The Powerpuff Girls show up, and Blossom does a pun!

Blossom: Justice is about to be served...soft served! Buttercup: Ha. Nice. (fist bump)

That might as well be the show's laugh track.

Bubbles tries to repeat what Blossom does by using her knowledge of physics and using a fire hose to hose down Popsicles! Hey, copying Blossom's strategy; it's just like what she did in Splitsville! It's too bad if she was actually successful, it would be pretty bad for this episode's plot of making Bubbles completely useless, so all she does is cover the entire town with water. It also covers Blossom in water, which Popsicles freezes, trapping Blossom in her own element.

Blossom then gets turned into one of those ice cream bars. Then Bubbles gets turned into an ice cream bar, too.

While Bubbles and Buttercup got to help out Blossom in her story, Buttercup's story is yet another "girly ones become damsels in distress" plot. There is a key difference: Buttercup doesn't have to learn a lesson. The whole point of this episode is to make Bubbles look bad, after all.

Much like the actual ice cream bars!

Popsicles, apparently never getting the idea of shooting Buttercup with his ice cream-ification rays, rushes forward to do an all out popsicle sword battle. Buttercup uses her sisters, which seems like a way to make Blossom and Bubbles more useful. It turns out, popsicles are stronger than ice cream bars, as they quickly get dented and start to fall off the sticks. So much for that!

This especially doesn't end well for this episode's punching bag, who melts in the street. I should be happy that the Reboot Puff that is most often a jerk is getting the short end here, but I'm not. They're not making fun of her for being a jerk, they're making fun of her because she's the most childish and least smart of the three. Mean spirited jokes happen throughout the entire episode, and it never feels good.

Buttercup gets sick of all of this, and just decides to use a flamethrower aura to melt him down. She could have used her eye lasers for the same effect, but I guess we needed a reminder that the reboot Puffs still have Green Lantern powers.

Popsicles goes out pretty violently, too, as we get to see his popsicle stick skeleton as he quotes the Wicked Witch of the West. Again, a good scene by reboot standards. Two words that probably shouldn't exist together: reboot and standards.

When Popsicles gets melted down, everyone gets turned back to normal. Except for Bubbles, whose ice cream pigtail was eaten by a dog. Buttercup plot over, and Bubbles is still unhappy because that didn't make her look good, either.

This unhappiness continues to the next morning, as Bubbles eye lasers her alarm clock at 9 in the morning. Blossom and Buttercup tell her to get up and look outside, but she keeps complaining that she's useless and unintelligent.

We had a short where Blossom saved the day, and a short where Buttercup saved the day. The logical next step is to have a third short where Bubbles saves the day. It can even be used as a satisfying ending, making new mementos and a new stride to make a difference. However, they decided to throw a curve ball instead. And by curve ball, I mean they threw the ball straight up and hit themselves in the face.

She comes out and sees a bunch of people cheering her! See, Bubbles was already being helpful, not by doing anything impressive, like convincing a monster to not destroy the city by talking to it or taking a laser beam up to 11, but saving cats and joining barbershop quartets! The Professor, who once couldn't even figure out what Bubbles has done that was good, tells her that she's good for being an "everyday hero".

Considering the rest of the episode, "everyday hero" seems to be a codeword for "joke character", especially for a hero that's supposed to be super powerful. This "twist" is so forced, I almost expected them to reveal that this was a total lie, and that these people were forced to act like Bubbles did something to make her feel better. It may as well be, considering we never see Bubbles do any of these good deeds. Bubbles is happy anyway, as the episode ends with Bubbles taking a picture for the Hall of Fame-ily.

Which falls down. I don’t get it, is this supposed to signify that this was a bad idea? They’re not wrong.

Does the title fit?

A good chunk of the episode is flashback. Of course, the word "pain" fits perfectly here, but it would fit most episodes of this reboot.

How does it stack up?

It's good to see the Powerpuff Girls actually fight crime in this episode. That's the one positive every episode should have, which is not something I can say for the reboot.

The two flashbacks aren’t horrific, but not beyond okay at best, either. The first was just random humor. The other is just another "Buttercup saves her sisters" plot without any point. The framing device that contains these shorts is mean spirited at worst, and the ending didn't convince me that it wasn't.

I wondered if an episode made to hate on my least favorite Reboot Puff would be satisfying, and I can say it isn't. That Bubbles ice cream picture would be a good rating for this episode, but I'd rather keep my ratings consistent. This is not an episode I'll put on my Hall Of Fame for this show...which mostly consists of dust bunnies.

Next week, could it be the return of Sapna Nehru?

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