#it (being impulsive and dumb and silly) runs in the family

[thescreaminghat]

goofy guys

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Upon a second watch of the trap and analyzing it from a psychological perspective (not taking into account the silly direction and at times nonsensical plot holes and character choices) and not a horny perspective, I think it’s so facilitating. Gonna leave my in depth thoughts below.

I think it’s fascinating how cooper just bullshited his way through the entirety of the concert. He didn’t know what the fuck was happening but he adapted to his surroundings and manipulated every single person he encountered in such a clever and cold way. He smiled in people’s faces as he listened to the police radio, he sneaked into a swat meeting and was even like “wow! You guys are huge!” (Which like lol no baby YOU are with your 6’3 mf ass). And his switch of body language as soon as he stepped out. He just seemed to know exactly what to say and what to do, and if it didn’t work, he thought of something else. I also want to note I find amusing that he almost thought of it as a game, in typical sociopath fashion (which yes ik is an outdated term but saying APD seems a little too clinical for my horny blog), he kinda enjoyed the chase and was even making faces at the description of himself (he also laughed at lady raven when she was like “you’re such a good boy”). He was very unbothered and collected up until he realized his perfect life was ruined, that the perfect image his family had of him was gone (the two lives mixed). Which is very on par with his antisocial personality traits.

Though I will acknowledge the fact that man actually was being dumb asf going back to the house knowing Rachel was the one that ratted him out (yes ig he didn’t know for sure but he suspected it, and let’s be real, he’s smart enough to piece it together without Rachel telling him verbatim). Unless maybe he wanted to get caught? It just seemed like very impulsive thing to do, which doesn’t seem on character for his more cold and calculating personality. His survival was the most important to him (other than his perfect dad of the year and upstanding member of society persona) and I don’t think it made sense for him to go back to the house and top of that eat something from Rachel when he suspected her, but then again maybe he wanted to get caught (or this is just bad character choice).

I also think it was incredibly dumb on his part to straight up tell lady raven he was the butcher. When this happened my expectation was that he’d kill her before she told everyone? I mean I can see why logically that’d be complicated but I expected a better outcome. It didn’t sit right with me that suddenly the focus was shifted to her and in the process they made him panic and make impulsive decisions (i.e run after her and pound on the bathroom door in front of his family, try to kidnap her instead). For someone who was shown to be incredibly smart and calculating and was described to never panic, this seemed like a very rash choice. Like what did you think was going to happen? But this movie does have character flaws and plot issues so I can’t be too critical.

Going back to the positives, another thing I found fascinating is once again his ability to manipulate every situation to his favor. Realistically speaking, in no sane world would a bunch of swat officers allow a suspected serial killer to grab something, they’d be dragging him to the van. But they allowed him to fix the bike. And the reason why I think Cooper knew this would work was because he already knew they knew he had OCD, so they knew if he had a “compulsion” he had to do it or else he would potentially lash out or get violent (this is typical when a compulsion can’t be accomplished there is a lot of anxiety that may lead to aggressive behavior or some type of breakdown). The thing was, this wasn’t a compulsion. He didn’t need to fix the bike. But the cops didn’t know this. Hence why (in my in movie understanding, regardless of logic) he was able to get the metal thing. But what’s funny about this is that you can see it in his face as he’s undoing the cuffs he’s like ooh and he laughs. I think cause he realized that he actually got away with that, that he manipulated everyone to his advantage once again, even when he was supposed to be “under control” and “subjected”. Even in cuffs he manages to be in control of the situation by coming up with ways to manipulate people to benefit his survival.

And I think that’s wonderful. I often enjoy seeing sociopaths actually be sociopaths (from a scientific standpoint as a psychology major) Like the level of manipulation and calculating cleverness (Dexter is my biggest example of this). Regardless if this movie is good or bad (I think it’s alright but it does fall apart after the concert), I think Josh (my hubby) did a fantastic job with what he was given. His mannerisms and facial expressions were so on point you could tell when he was being himself and when he was putting on the act. It was fantastic.

Anyway Josh I love you and everything you do, you’re so perfect you made this nonsensical silly movie enjoyable <3

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 20 | Chapter 22

Chapter 21: Interlude - The Sinner

TW: some morning fluff, lots of nervous tension and both our idiots knowing they need to talk, language, mentions of smoking, minor feelings of abandonment and frustration and anger, Jake's not in a good mood this chapter, huge Howard icks this chapter, some stalkerish behavior, Someone's Simone, complicated family dynamics, mentions of drugs and alcohol, Jake's also a bit jealous kinda, breaking and entering, non graphic depictions of masturbation, non graphic mentions of illegal porn and rape, some tragic backstory and bonding, depictions of violence and anger, controlling feelings, the idiots finally have a talk (not the one y'all hoped tho) and of course some closing fluff.

Okay y'all, this chapter goes quick and there's a lit going on! Some topics are pretty heavy so if you need to skip please do, I'll be more than happy to offer anyone a condensed summary if they need it. As always enjoy!

Jake wasn't a morning person. He never had been. The very thought of getting up earlier than ten - nine if he was really pushing it - made him want to physically groan and grumble. It was the sunlight that woke him that morning. Hemingway had shoved his curtains to the side just enough for the magnified reflection of the too early morning sun to blind him. 

Blinking a few times, he tried to roll, intending to bury his head beneath his pillow and go right back to sleep, but a solid weight pressed into his left side and stilled him. It took a minute for him to blink the sleepy haze from his eyes enough to recognize the halo of soft hair that spilled across his shoulder and pillow. Red hair.

Lena.

This is a dream, he thought to himself. It was always a dream… It had to be a dream. Then that disbelief - that tired urge to groan and grumble vanished, replaced by his mind playing back the events of last night. Just seconds after being rudely woken up, Jake was assaulted by the full brunt of the truth. This wasn't a dream.

Lena had spent the day with him running errands. She'd admired his apartment, played with their dumb cat, and then entertained his impulsive and rather invasive photoshoot. He'd felt her come on his fingers, heard her begging and desperate repetition of the words that made his heart hammer in his chest. "I want you."

Holy fuck. Jake forced saliva down his dry throat, unable to take his eyes off her peaceful, sleeping face and how fucking good she looked in his shirt. This isn't a dream. His chest rose and fell, lifting her head and all that red hair with it. This is real.

Part of him felt so silly and childish for getting this worked up over a girl in his bed. Jake had had plenty of girls in his bed. But he'd never had this girl there. As he tentatively settled back into his bed, hands guiding along the soft skin of Lena's body, he relinquished total control to the other part of him. The part that told him to savor this moment. The part that felt so entirely complete holding this girl in his arms.

Jake couldn't go back to sleep, not while his entire being hummed and that damn smell of her cherry perfume mingled perfectly with the scent of his shampoo. So, Jake settled beside her, shifting just enough to see her face more clearly. His fingers carefully tucked her hair behind her ear, dancing over her cheek. He drank in the sight of her nose scrunching up and the sleepy mumbles she made as she buried her face in him.

God, she's so beautiful, he thought, eyes dragging down the length of her. The blankets had been shoved down, and his shirt had ridden up, exposing her hips. The overwhelming need to feel her skin beneath his palms overcame him, only satiated once his hand settled on her hip and pulled her into him. He closed his eyes for a second, smiling as she moved again, her arm winding around his middle, nails gently digging into his back as she settled.

It didn't matter what she was wearing or what she was doing. Jake knew then that Lena would always be the most beautiful girl he'd ever had in his bed. And, though he'd never admit it, he knew then and there that he didn't want another girl in his bed again. Just her. Only her.

He didn't know how long they lay there before she shifted again. And, quite honestly, as he watched Lena stretch and delicately flutter her lashes until the sleep faded from her green eyes, he didn't care. Jake was sure she could hear his heart hammering in his chest as her lips curved into a still-tired smile and the soft whisper of her voice rolled across his skin. "Hi."

"Hi," he replied with a chuckle, lifting his hand to brush the hair from her face once again. Her cheeks turned rosy, and that smile widened. Beautiful. Dumbly, he smiled back, repeating the word as his mind erased everything else but her. "Hi."

Her giggle echoed between them. Her nose scrunching as she moved closer, bringing her hand up to his cheek, fingers tapping against it for a moment before gently pressing her lips to his. Lena was soft, maybe a little half asleep, but still, she consumed him entirely with just one tiny, impossibly soft kiss. As she pulled away, she said the word again, a light teasing that just made him fall even more, "Hi."

Jake had to remind himself to breathe - he had to remind himself to do anything else but kiss her again. So, instead, he brought his fingers to her temple and asked, "How's your head feeling? Figured you'd have one hell of a hangover."

"It's not that bad," Lena insisted, her eyes fluttering shut and a content noise rumbling through her throat as he massaged her head. When she opened them again, his heart skipped a beat. "Sorry about that, by the way."

He chuckled at her ridiculous habit of apologizing for everything. "Don't worry about it, princess. You're a pretty fun drunk."

Watching her roll her eyes and scoff at him, Jake held back a smirk. "You're just saying that 'cause I basically threw myself at you."

"That did give me quite the ego boost," he admitted, finally grinning ear to ear. "But, it was a good night."

"It was a really good night."

It would have been better if I'd fucked you properly, he thought, imagining how good it would have felt to feel her… Really, truly feel her. Forcing his lips to remain neutral, Jake stumbled on his words, "So… I…" I want you to stay. "What now?"

"You seem flustered." She replied smugly, sitting up and leaning over his chest with an exaggerated look of shock and a fake gasp. "Am I your first?"

Jake laughed, resisting the urge to respond with equal smugness. He sat up, hands holding onto her, keeping her chest pressed to his, bringing them face to face. His eyes focused on her plump lips, the need to kiss her until they were both sick of it filling him with a tingled sensation. "Don't let it go to your head, princess."

Her eyes sparkled playfully. "So I am your first. That's cute of you."

"I've had plenty of women spend the night," he finally replied. "I'm just not used to them staying for breakfast the next day."

She bumped his nose with her own and continued teasing him. "What makes you think I'm staying for breakfast?"

God… "You're still here, aren't you?"

"Oh, come on, pretty boy! You gotta ask me properly." She pushed out her bottom lip, a silent plead for him to play along, but also one that made his grip on her tighten as the need to have her only consumed him more.

Nodding his head, he gave her the exact answer she wanted, "Lena, would you like to stay for breakfast?"

Her soft hum made him shiver. "I'd love to."

Jake felt his body curling into hers, head dipping on a steady path toward her lips. But he forced himself to stop. He forced himself to remain in control of himself and his urges. If he kissed her now they wouldn't be leaving his bed… They wouldn't be able to have the discussion they needed to. So, he took a deep breath and squeezed her hips one last time before carefully moving her back and getting out of bed. "I, uh, don't know what I have that's edible."

"Got stuff for shitty eggs?" She asked, distractedly inviting Hemingway into her lap and scratching beneath his chin.

"Careful, my version of shitty eggs is actually shitty."

"If I can survive Patrick's attempt at eggs, I'm sure I can survive yours." She stood then, the golden glow of the sunlight making her look heaven-sent. He couldn't look away from her, eyes dragging down from her face to appreciate fully the view of her in nothing but his shirt. Fuck… She's too fucking perfect. "I'm gonna get dressed."

He nodded, pulling his mind out of the gutter and turning toward the kitchen. "You can shower if you need to. What's mine is yours."

 "Thanks."

Jake stared blankly in the cupboard, feeling the goosebumps that climbed up his arms at the faint noise of her inhabiting his space so intimately. It was almost pathetic how easily worked up he was where Lena was concerned. It was almost sad how desperate he'd become.

All she needed to do was look at him, and his heart was skipping beats. Every sound, every word that came out of her mouth, had him captured in seconds. He would know her laugh, her voice… Even the sound of her breathing in the dark. Jake would be able to find her, feel her, even if every other sense was taken from him. 

Jake knew Lena on a level he'd known no one else, and that simple, undeniable fact scared him. He wasn't new to sex. He wasn't new to casual dating. He wasn't even new to the idea of intimacy. All the years he'd had of practice or experience, it was useless when it came to this… When it came to her.

Simone had spent years trying to coach him through relationships. She'd put so much of her time and her kindness into trying to help him form some kind of bond outside of their own, and she'd failed every time. It was something he used to be grateful for. At least then, he knew he'd be alright with just her love. At least then, he knew Simone was enough. But now…

Hemingway purred at his feet lovingly but also bossily meowing at him. Food. Right. He grabbed the cat food from the cupboard, opened the can, and spooned the contents into the small cat dish. While the hairless thing ate, Jake stared at the bathroom door. He listened to the sound of his sink running and listened to the quiet sounds of Lena getting dressed. It was comforting… And unsettling all at once.

She was so close. She was in his home, his space, touching his things… Lena was seeing him as he was. Broken and desperate and selfish. It made him want to push her away, to craft some lie or hurtful insult to get her out. Jake wanted to treat her as if she were no different from any of his other female visitors. But she was different. She was important… Special. 

I can't lose this, he thought to himself, forcing any and all uncomfortable feelings deep down inside him. I can't fuck this up. He actively resisted the urge to self-destruct. Then and there, Jake took a deep breath, steeling himself and committing to the thought in his mind. He was going to talk to her. He was going to admit what he felt, and he was going to fight to keep this… Whatever it was in his life.

The doorknob started to turn. Nervous tension filled his gut, forcing his lips to seal shut and his body to throw itself across the kitchen. He opened a random cupboard, pretending to search as he listened to her approach. The feeling of her eyes roaming over his half-naked body made him feel hot as he turned his head to smile at her. His hand fumbled for the refrigerator handle. "I don't think I've got any eggs." His fridge was empty, save a half gallon of milk and some questionable Chinese food. "Or… Well, anything really."

Lena caught his gaze for a split second before she ducked her head, hiding her blushing cheeks as she fished through her bag. She was nervous, too. Shit, he cursed. This is really happening. He felt sick and excited. It was long overdue that they had this discussion. "I'm sure a man of your talents can figure something out. We could always go out somewhere, too. I'm not picky."

Jake looked at the fridge again, chuckling to himself. He wondered if he should start or if he should wait and let her. "Probably a good idea unless week-old Chinese food sounds appetizing to you."

He expected a quip or something, but Lena was quiet. Jake turned his head and looked at her, head still ducked, but her hands now trembling as she held her phone. He could see the quickened rise and fall of her back as she stared down, frozen. "Lena?" 

She didn't respond to him. "Oh god…"

"Lena?" Closing the fridge door made her jump, looking up at him with uncertain, watering eyes. "Hey, you okay?"

"I forgot…" She mumbled, lips quivering and voice cracking. Before he had a chance to ask what she meant, she was gathering her things. "I… forgot."

"What?" She turned, a blur of red hair, and haphazardly gathered things, swinging his door open and starting to leave. "Lena, wait!"

He stood out in his hallway, shirtless, shoeless, and helpless as she practically ran away from him and down the stairs. "Fuck!" He cursed, slamming his door and running across the apartment to force his window open. The sidewalk was already crowded, but he could still make out her red hair as she wove between bodies, wiping her eyes and hastily moving as if her life depended on it. "Fuck!"

Jake slammed the window shut, pressing his head to it as the gut-dropping disappointment and anger replaced all the good that the morning had opened with. He was angry… Angry at her for leaving… Angry at himself for being dumb enough to just let her go. But, more than that, Jake was disappointed that he'd put off all he'd wanted to say. What are we? What is this? Do you feel the same soul-crushing want that I do?

He fucking hated mornings.

*

After setting Hemingway up for the night, Jake grabbed his bike and his leather jacket and headed to work. He held out hope that Lena would be more willing to talk to him about her sudden departure after having some time to work through whatever it was she needed to. But that hope was quickly snuffed out when he spent almost an hour in the alley and the kitchen waiting.

In the quiet of the locker room, he sent Lena a quick text, hoping she'd at least reply and let him know she was alright. Another hope was quickly put to rest when Will entered with the new girl, that too-good smile on his face as he showed her the locker next to his and wished her luck on her first day. Asshole, he thought bitterly to himself. Will didn't have any problems with his relationship so in Jake's mind he could get fucked.

The new girl waved and smiled at him nervously. "Guess we're neighbors."

Jake looked her up and down, nodding his head stiffly. "Guess so." He slammed his locker shut and brushed past her without another word.

Family meal felt emptier. Simone was off doing whatever needed doing, and Jake was stuck listening to everyone rave about their amazing nights. Jake's night topped all of them, but he couldn't exactly tell them that. Not that he'd wanted to anyway.

"Changelings," Howard started, voice ringing out with a low but very audible tone of disappointment. "Has anyone heard from Lena this morning?"

Sasha giggled to himself. "Has the Tiger finally clawed her way out of her cage?"

Heather rolled her eyes. "She's probably running late or something. She doesn't seem like the type to skip work on a whim."

"I dunno," Ari chimed in. "She's got that bad girl spark in her."

Howard just glared at Jake with a deep frown and stalked off. Once he was well out of earshot, Sasha leaned over. "Jakey looks extra grumpy today!"

Ari nodded, reaching over to poke his cheek. "Yeah, he does. Did you not get enough beauty sleep or what?"

His mind instantly recalled the night he'd had. The way Lena had looked in that red lingerie with the setting sun made her eyes and hair glow. He remembered how impossible it'd felt not to throw his camera and get on his knees for her whenever her face started to twist in pleasure. At that moment, it was like he was reliving that amazing, wonderful, too-good night. But then he felt Ari's finger poking his cheek, and it all came crashing down with the memory of Lena running out on him.

"Fuck off!" He hissed, slapping her hand away from him as he stood with his plate.

Sasha's eyebrows wiggled as he laughed. "Yikes!"

"Someone clearly woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning!" Ari yelled after him.

He ignored them for the most part, tossing his food into the trash and setting his plate in the bus tub that sat in front of the new hostess. She smiled at him, a blush creeping up her neck onto her cheeks, but Jake hardly noticed. His mind was too focused on Lena, on how good it felt waking up that morning and how shitty he felt now that it was over, and he still had no clue why.

Nicky kept any remarks he had to himself as they started prepping for the night, a thing Jake was grateful for. As he cut the garnishments, his mind and body raged inside him. Anger and frustration and confusion and everything in between roaring beneath his skin. He didn't know what to think, what to feel… He just knew it hurt somewhere.

Scott tapped him on the shoulder, discreetly staking some glasses. "Apparently, our Asian investor took a look at the building today."

"Yeah?" He asked though he couldn't have been less interested.

"Yeah, Red shot me a text a few minutes ago, letting me know it went well."

Jake shook his head, blood boiling inside him. "Did she?"

Scott gave him a look, one not unlike his usual one. "Try fuckin smiling for two minutes. This is good news."

He put on a clearly fake smile. "Yeah, whatever. Now get the fuck off my bar."

"Dickhead."

Once Scott was gone, Jake pulled his phone from his pocket and scoffed. No messages. The hurt knawed on inside his chest, twisting into an angry, resentful feeling as he pressed on and kept the mask of uncaring boredom intact. So she's got time to talk to Scott but can't bother replying to me? He knew it likely wasn't personal. He knew, realistically, that he'd done nothing wrong, but for whatever reason, Jake still felt like he'd somehow fucked it all up.

A neatly clipped pile of papers slapped onto the bar in front of him with a clean, manicured hand patting them. Simone offered him a wide smile. She looked good today, her hair neat, her lips red, and even her eyes seemed to have their normal glow back. "Good morning, my love."

"Morning," he replied thinly.

"Take these to Howard's office."

Jake scoffed at the documents, ones for the guest book. "Why don't you fuckin do it?"

Simone placed her hand on his, halting his slicing and meeting his eyes with a wider gaze. If she'd been anyone else, he would've thought she was crazy, but Jake knew this look. This was a warning. She'd found something. Simone slowly repeated herself, "Take these to Howard's office."

"Where do I put 'em?" He asked, taking the pages. 

"Right-hand side, bottom drawer." She nodded her head. "Don't mess up his chair."

Jake had been in Howard's office many times before this. Usually, he'd be on the opposite side of his desk receiving a stern lecture, but today, it felt more serious. He rounded the desk, ignoring the stacks of papers and the little trinkets Howard surrounded his computer with. If it had been another day, a less serious situation, Jake would have messed with the manager's precious chair, but instead, he just shoved it out of the way and opened the drawer Simone had told him to.

A hot, consuming dread filled his chest at the sight of Lena's things stuffed inside. Her hairbrush, her bra, her shirt. For a minute, his thoughts ran wild, remembering how he'd found out about Tess and Howard. It was a similar feeling, but this time it felt so much worse. He almost slammed the drawer shut and resigned himself to the idea that he'd been duped by some backwaiter again, but then it all froze.

This is the shirt she lost… He realized. And that's the bra that got ruined by sauce. It slammed into him like a train, the realization that all the things Howard had tucked away were things Lena had misplaced over the months. She wasn't sleeping with Howard. She would never sleep with Howard. He was going through her things. Dread turned to rage in seconds.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Jake closed the drawer, fixed Howard's chair, and set the papers where they belonged. His body and mind were raging with sheer desire to pin the little manager to the wall and demand an explanation, but as he exited the office, Simone gave him a stern look and a shake of her head. He couldn't just attack Howard, he knew that, but fuck did he want to.

Service dragged on that night. Every second felt slower than it should have, but that might've just been Jake constantly checking the clock. He needed to get the hell out of here before he did something reckless. He needed to find Lena and tell her about what a creepy fuck Howard was. Every free moment he had, Jake was watching. Howard wasn't stupid, so he felt the bartender's intense glare, but the snake pretended like it didn't matter to him.

The new hostess was clumsy, tripping over her words and nervously greeting the guests. Howard compensated for her lack of experience with his own charming greetings. It was annoying and fake, just like he was. Nicky noticed his foul mood and his focus on Howard, but instead of trying to pry or take his mind off it, he simply put in an extra big smile and kept the guests from being too annoying.

It was relieving when the last guests left, and everyone finally settled into the seats around the bar. Normally, he'd feel relaxed, but he was just as tense as he'd been at the start of this shift from hell. As he and Nicky served everyone drinks, Jake felt Howard's stare. The tension between them was palpable as he gladly returned the look. It wasn't an odd interaction for them, but that night, Jake could see him for what he really was. 

The cold eyes of 22West's manager were now filled with a predatory gleam whenever Jake looked at him. "Goodnight, Changelings."

Watching him leave, Jake felt tempted to follow him, even threaten him. But, he held his tongue and stiffly finished the shift drinks. When Simone finally stood from her table and casually made her way toward the back, he finished Heather's drink and turned.

Nudging Nicky, he nodded to the door. "I'm gonna change." In the locker room, Simone changed slowly, clearly waiting for him. He unbuttoned his shirt and sighed. "You obviously have an opinion, so just say it."

Simone's lips thinned. "I think this is proof enough that the two of them are more intimately acquainted than you thought."

Jake shook his head. "She wouldn't be fucking Howard."

"Jake," she hissed. "Please open your eyes! Ever since she started here, he's been doting on her. I know she's a Glover, but even in a nepotistic way, Howard's behavior is too much. He's dressing her up in fancy gowns and his dead wife's jewelry, for God's sake!" Composing herself, she placed a hand on his chest. "I know you're fond of her. I just… I don't want you to get blindsided by Howard and some backwater again."

He nodded, leaning in to press his head into hers for a moment. "I know."

Straightening up, she nodded again. "That's my opinion. Do what you will with it."

"Thank you, Simone."

"Goodnight. See you tomorrow, preferably on time."

"I know, I know."

He finished getting dressed, making sure he was the last person in the building before he snuck into Howard's office and emptied that drawer of Lena's things. Once that was done, he made his way to Ozzy's alone, hopefully, to find Lena and talk to her. They had too much to talk about. Howard. This morning. Their feelings. The rest could wait, he'd convinced himself. But the shit with Howard had to be addressed now.

Among the lights and music and dancing bodies, Jake searched for her red hair, her green eyes, or even her tiger tattoo, but she wasn't there. Fuck, he cursed, making his way to the bar. He'd expected to find Ozzy at least, but no, not even the big man was in tonight. What the fuck is going on today?

Dom stood at the edge of the bar, watching him with furrowed brows. For a minute, Jake was convinced that the biker somehow already knew what was going on. Patrick clapped a hand on Jake's shoulder, the haze in his eyes making it clear he'd had a few drinks already. "Hey, little brother! How you been?"

"I'm fine. Is Lena around?"

The burly man's face contorted, guilt filling that mirthful smile with poison. "You ain't gonna find her here tonight."

Shit. With a sigh, Jake decided, "Then I guess it's you I'm telling."

He smirked, shaking off that look. "I'm all ears!"

Jake sighed and just decided it was best to come right out with it. "I found some of Lena's things in Howard's desk at work."

Patrick's eyes hardened in an instant. "What?"

"Today at work, I went to put some papers on his desk and found a bunch of her shit. A hairbrush, a shirt… A bra."

"Get your ass upstairs." He turned and found Dom, giving the man nothing more than a nod before practically dragging Jake away from the bar.

Upstairs, Peter was sitting on the couch in their small living room with a cat and a book in his lap when Patrick stomped up the stairs with Dom in tow. His eyes narrowed. "What's goin' on?"

Pat nodded to Jake. "You tell him what you told me."

"Today at work, I found some of Lena's things in Howard's office."

"What kind of things?" Dom asked.

"A hairbrush, a shirt, and a bra."

Peter's mouth twisted into a tight line as he stood up. "Fuck! I told you… I fucking told you!"

Dom held a hand up. "If he's got anything serious, I'll find it."

"Oh, so now you wanna check?" Patrick sneered.

"Shut up." Jake was surprised by the raw, animalistic brutality of Dom's tone toward Patrick, but he kept his mouth shut. He turned to Peter. "How do you wanna do this?"

Jake could tell Peter wanted to ask the drug dealer to make Howard pay. He could see the violence and the restraint tug on his features. "Cleanly. I wanna be sure before we make any rash decisions."

Patrick scoffed, shaking his head. "We should be busting that fuckers door down and breaking his goddamn knees."

"I'll go now. The sooner it gets done, the better." Dom turned toward the door and suddenly paused, looking back at Jake. "You comin' tough guy?"

All eyes turned to him."Did you want me to?"

The biker shrugged. "Might be good for you."

Jake knew he could have easily declined, but he needed somewhere to put all the built-up anger and frustration. It was a perfect opportunity not just to see Howard taken down a peg but to maybe get some answers out of Dom about his relationship with Lena. So, Jake nodded and followed the biker downstairs, where the others waited by their bikes, clearly ready to follow whatever orders Dom gave.

Nodding to an empty bike, Dom asked, "Can you ride?"

"I've fucked around on dirtbikes before."

He made a face and shook his head. "You ride with John then."

The silver-haired old man nodded Jake over and fixed his gloves as he climbed on. "Don't fall off or nothin. I ain't gonna stop if ya do."

"I won't fall off," he replied with a frustrated breath. They stood around for a few minutes longer as Dom gathered some choice individuals together to give them the rundown. While he spoke in hushed tones, Jake could see the pure rage inside him. It was a feeling that mirrored his own, one that made some ugly feeling rise up once again inside him.

For as long as he'd known Dom and seen him interact with Lena, he couldn't help but feel like the two were more than just drug dealer and ex-addict. So, Jake settled on the back of John's bike and asked, "He seems pretty riled up about Lena."

John mostly ignored him. "Ain't we all. She's a good kid."

"Yeah," he said slowly. "But, there's gotta be something there, right?"

"Whatchu gettin' at, boy?"

"Dom and Lena," Jake finally just said it simply. "How long were they an item?"

The old man cackled then, tossing his head back and laughing like a deranged man. Instead of answering Jake's question, he started his bike, revved the engine, and yelled, "BETTER HOLD ON YA TWIT!"

Riding with the gang was a lot different from the one short ride he'd taken with Lena in a lot of ways. It was louder, far more reckless, and he felt distinctly out of place among them. As they rode through the crowded streets, they'd shout inside jokes to each other and teasingly almost crash their bikes into one another's. Thrilling but not the kind Jake found himself appreciating as much.

When they finally stopped in front of Howard's house, the bikes lined the street for almost a whole block. He left John's side and found the only familiar face in the sea of leather. Ryker stood with his arms crossed and a stony expression on his face. When he saw the bartender approach, he spared a smile. "Good to see you decided to join us."

"You know me, I'm all about this kind of thing."

"Hmm, just try not to get in the way too much."

Jake watched Dom for a moment as he spoke with John, the burning need to ask that same question boiling over inside him. "So, Dom and Lena?"

Ryker just shook his head. "You're not very bright, are you?"

Before he could reply with an equally insulting quip, Dom whistled. "Alright, you all know the drill. Tough guy, you're with me."

Breaking into Howard's home was easier than he'd expected. Another biker, a man they called Wit, picked the lock in under a minute and opened the door for Dom and him to enter. He was nervous, stepping foot in his manager's home illegally, but he was committed to getting the truth and exposing Howard for what he was.

The bottom floor was empty, but Jake could hear noise echoing from upstairs. He led the way as Dom followed close behind him, moving through the long hallway quietly before finding the half-open door of Howard's home office. He could hear the noise more clearly now, sounds that he knew damn well were some kind of porn.

Suppressing a laugh, joy-filled Jake as he realized he'd not only be exposing Howard's actions but his tiny cock too. He swung the door open, letting Dom enter alongside him. The tv turned off in a second, the manager's quick motion sending the remote across the room. Howard fumbled to cover himself with his pants. "GET OUT!" He glared at Jake, recognition finally taking hold. "You… You're fired! You hear me, you're fucking fired!"

Dom moved around the desk, grabbing Howard by the shirt with a thin sneer. "Shut the fuck up or I'll shut you up."

He bent over and picked the remote up, flipping it in his hand as he chuckled. "You know, I've always been curious about what uptight assholes like you get off to."

"Don't!" Howard pleaded.

Jake turned, pressing the button once again, not hearing Dom's shout until it was too late. The screen came to life, the noise filling the room, noise that made every hair on his body stand on end. There was too much going on for him to process fully… It was like he was watching a car crash. He was horrified, disgusted, but couldn't look away. Then the camera shifted, and a hand marred with a fresh, jagged scar took a fistful of the poor girl's hair… Red hair. Jake felt his heart drop.

Lena.

Dom abandoned Howard and grabbed the remote from Jake's loose grip, quickly turning the TV back off. For a minute, all he could do was stand there and stare at the blank screen where the image of her being… With a short breath, he turned and looked at Dom. The question didn't need to be spoken, and neither did the answer. Dom's eyes said it all.

Anger replaced the need to vomit, and Jake turned, fist clenched and raised in seconds. He'd punched people before, but this one… This one felt different. At first, he thought it was because he'd finally gotten the chance to hit Howard, but then he punched him again and again and again. Jake didn't stop until Ryker and another biker pulled him off, and as they pulled him back, Jake's lungs filled with fire. "YOU SICK MOTHERFUCKER!"

It was then that Jake accepted the truth of it. He didn't hit Howard because he was an asshole. He did it because he had a video of Lena. Not just some dumb sex tape… Not just any video, but one of her being violated. Howard was getting off to watching her being held down… raped. At that moment, all the questions Jake had been trying to piece together for months were suddenly answered.

This was Lena's story. It was the painful past she could never bring herself to share. It was why all the violence and the near-death experiences didn't seem to phase her. And then, all at once, he realized that this was likely just a sliver of the truth. A thing that Dom's eyes only confirmed. As Jake fought against the bikers that held him, he could hear her voice - that sad, pained voice - echoing in his head. "There are worse things than dying."

"I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!" He screamed, though he and Dom knew the words weren't for Howard, just like the punches hadn't been.

Well, the first punch had been solely for Howard, for the sick fucking monster Jake now knew without a doubt he was, but the second… The third, fourth, and fifth ones had been for the man that wasn't here. The man that Nana had been using prayer to ward off. The man that had raped her… The man that she was still living in fear of.

Strong arms held him back as Dom returned to Howard's side. "Are there any more?"

"N… No…" Howard sniffled in reply. "Please don't hurt me…"

"Shut up!" Dom growled, hand curling around Howard's throat. "You don't get to beg. Now, I'm only gonna ask you this once. Where did you get the tape?"

Howard's lips quivered as he shook his head. "I…"

Dom's fist rattled against the desk. "WHERE?!"

"He… He gave it to me…"

"Are you still in contact with him?" Howard nodded. Dom's grip loosened and gently let Howard fall back in his chair. "Good. You're gonna send him a message for me."

Jake watched, chest heaving and lungs burning still as Dom leaned down to whisper in Howard's ear. The manager nodded along, desperate and stupid. "Alright… Okay…"

Ryker handed him the tape, and Dom straightened up. "My boy here will be keeping a close eye on you from now on." He tapped Howard's bruised, bleeding face. "So let's all be on our best behavior from here on out."

Howard could only mumble his compliance as Dom turned to Ryker and nodded. The tall man smiled. "You heard the boss. Let's tear it apart!"

Dom touched Jake's shoulder and told the men holding him to let go. As the weight on his arms vanished, he had half the mind to leap at Howard again, but Dom stared him down. "Come on, tough guy. It's time we had a real chat."

"Yeah, alright," he replied, following Dom out onto the sidewalk. 

The chilled night air helped cool his temper and clear his head, but with that came the unbearable weight of what he'd seen on that tape. Dom held the cursed thing in his hands, and as Jake looked down at it, he felt the burning hatred for that man - that still unnamed figure - grow. At this point, he didn't need to meet him to even know his name. He'd make sure the bastard paid somehow.

Watching Dom light a cigarette and stand beside him in silence, Jake wanted to ask him the questions that would now haunt him. He wanted to know… To understand everything about that tape and the horrors that he still had no clue about. What happened to her? His mind thought. How did she survive that?

"I wasn't always a drug dealer, you know. I used to be a mechanic," He finally said, blowing smoke from between his lips with a shake of his head. "I worked on cars and fucked women and lived my life."

"So, how'd you end up here?" It wasn't the question or the topic Jake expected, but he was willing to listen.

"Like everyone else." Dom's face never changed, his eyes still glued to the spot in front of him. "I had a sister. One a lot like Lena. Smart, funny, strong. She had dreams and goals, and she was just so determined to make them happen in that annoying way that they have, you know? She was everything to us… To me. She was everything, and then she was gone."

"What happened?

"Running a business ain't cheap. Especially when there's about eighty shops just like it," Dom replied bitterly. "And someone's always gotta pay. Whether that's with money or with blood, someone pays. I had accumulated quite a debt trying to keep my place open. Debt to people that don't just let that kinda shit go, ya know? And bein’ a hot-headed, ill-tempered fucking idiot, I pissed a lot of people off. My brother," Dom nodded at Jake's surprised look, "Yeah, got one of those too. He ran with a sketchy crew and offered to help me out with some cash. I didn't know that help came with a long night of getting fucked up on drugs, but I did it, hoping my sister would actually get both her big brothers in one room together for Christmas that year. By the time I sobered up and got home... She was dead."

He didn't know what to say, didn't know if he should say anything at all. "They came that night while I was out. Apparently, someone had tipped them off that I was going to a rival or some shit to get outta paying, and they decided I needed to be taught a lesson. I don't... I don't know exactly what they did to her, but I know they drug it out. She was still warm when I got there." His voice was rough now, struggling to get the words out. "Her eyes were the only thing recognizable about her."

"Shit... I..."

"I don't want your pity," he spat, turning now to look at him. "I want you to understand before you fuck up the best thing that's ever happened to you by runnin' your mouth. What's between me and Lena isn't sexual, not even remotely. There has not been one moment of our time together where that's been in question, so stop askin' dumb shit."

He shouldn't have been surprised that Dom heard of his questions. The gang was nothing if not loyal to him. So, he simply nodded in agreement. "Okay."

"Now that that's outta the way, I need you to understand something else."

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "What?"

"That girl has been through hell. You think what you saw tonight was fucked up? You don't know nothin’. Now, she'll pretend and deny it, but she's got a good heart. I know the boys already gave you the speech, but I wanted to make sure you really got it. If you ever hurt her, I will not hesitate to throw your body in the river." The man paused, wide eyes filled with tears that would never fall. "I won't lose another sister."

Then, Jake fully understood Dom's actions - he understood who he was and who Lena was to him. With a nod, he replied, "I wouldn't hurt her. Not ever."

Dom nodded and clapped a hand on Jake's shoulder. "You did good tonight, Jake."

That was the first time the drug-dealing biker had ever called him by his name. Hearing his name be spoken with an underlying tone of respect felt good. "I have questions."

"I know," the man acknowledged. "And I have answers, some at least. The rest will be up to her to share with you when she's ready." The group of bikers began to flood out of the house. "But not tonight."

A feeling of understanding settled in his chest. He may have been new to this whole fucked up situation, but Dom… Lena's brothers had been living it for years now. Jake rode back with the bikers to The Ring, trying to focus on that feeling of understanding, trust, and respect rather than the pit of despair the night's findings brought him.

Upstairs, the brothers waited. Patrick pacing like a caged animal, the hammer still tightly in his hand. Peter sat at the table, staring numbly into the surface of the wood. When they entered, closing the door behind them, Patrick was the one that spoke. In all the time Jake had known him, he'd never heard his voice sound so lifeless and menacing. "Well?"

"You were right," Dom said, sliding the tape across the table, eyes on Peter, who just looked at the tape with tears in his eyes. "I should've checked sooner."

Patrick was less calm, raising his hammer and using it to pulverize the tape. Jake thought watching it being destroyed would have made him feel better, but it didn't. "Stupid fucking mother fucker!" Patrick ground out, hitting the table a few times more before the head of the hammer snapped off. "GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!"

Peter closed his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks before he wiped them and looked at Dom. "Were there any others?"

"No. I had my boys search. He only had the one."

"Good," he said.

"Not good enough," Patrick replied. "There shouldn't have even been a fucking tape to begin with."

Dom leaned against a chair, ignoring the brothers' accusatory tone. "I've got the boys digging through some black market dealers. If there's more, we'll know."

Patrick looked at Peter, his eyes finally filling with liquid. "What are we gonna tell her?"

For a minute, Jake saw Peter's face fall, the strong exterior of a protector faltering. Fear… Guilt filled his stone features before he steeled himself and said, "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Patrick repeated as he cleaned up the evidence of the tape.

"Pete," Dom began with a careful look.

Peter doubled down. "She just barely started feeling comfortable in that goddamn restaurant again. She just barely started living again. Do you wanna take that away from her?" He looked at Patrick. "Or you?"

"Alright then," the biker agreed, his eyes shifting to Jake. "You got that?"

"You want me to lie to Lena?" He asked, a slight tone of disbelief lacing his words.

Patrick shrugged. "If you think you can stomach tellin' her the truth, then by all means."

Shaking his head, Jake contemplated his options. If he did lie, then that meant betraying Lena's trust, betraying the faith she had in him, to be honest with her. But telling her the truth-telling her that he saw, even just one second of that tape… saw what she'd been through… could destroy her. It would rob her of all sense of autonomy in telling him this horrific truth of her life in her own time and her own way. It would bring that painful look back to her eyes, and he…

The door opened, and everyone stilled as Lena entered. She paused in the doorway, looki

ing around the room at the faces she clearly hadn't expected to be there. Once her eyes met his, Jake felt like he might just blurt everything out. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, and swear that he'd never let anything bad happen to her ever again. But he just stood there.

She dropped her bag on the ground by the door. "I-"

Patrick moved, shoving past him to pull his sister into his arms. From where he stood, Jake could see the tears build in Lena's eyes as she wrapped her arms around him and sighed. "You know I didn't mean any of it, right?" He heard Patrick ask, "I didn't mean it."

"I know. I didn't mean it either."

"I know."

The two of them stood there for a long minute, the silence between everyone else filled with relief and pain. When the large man finally pulled away, he whispered something to her.

With a sniffling laugh, she finally smiled, whispering it back. Jake didn't need to know Irish to understand what was shared between them. I love you.

Dom passed him first, their eyes connecting over the table. Jake may not have been a people person, but he was good at reading looks. Dom offered him a choice through his eyes. Keep the secret or tell her. He could see that the biker was prepared to deal with it no matter what Jake chose. Dom exited the apartment with a simple pat on Lena's shoulder, leaving the siblings to their business. Peter hugged Lena, kissing her head with a desperate relief. "Don't disappear like that again. Please."

"I won't," she promised.

Jake stood by silently as they shared in their relief. The family didn't include him, but they didn't exclude him either, so he was content being a simple bystander. Then Patrick looked up and offered him a nod. This would look like any other nod to anyone else, but Jake saw the tears in his eyes and the gratitude that shined with them. Peter's own look followed shortly after, and Jake wanted nothing more than to tell them to stop admiring him. He hadn't done anything worth their admiration. 

They excused themselves quietly, leaving him standing face-to-face with the one person he'd been waiting to see all day. As she turned and looked at him with guilty, nervous eyes, he remembered how mad he'd been at her for leaving. And suddenly, that was a ridiculous thing, being angry at her. She sighed, whispering a quiet and simple greeting, "Hi."

Hi… Jake remembered how beautiful it had sounded this morning when they'd been curled up in his sheets. Even with the tone of guilt and the simmering pain the night had unwrapped him in, it was still just as beautiful a word now as it had been then. "Hi." 

"I'm sorry about earlier…" She shook her head, and Jake could see the tears still building in her eyes. "I shouldn't have run out on you. I-"

"Stop," he said without fully meaning to. "You…" His jaw clenched, a hundred different things running through his head. You're too good for me. You're perfect. "You have nothing to apologize for."

Her lower lip quivered slightly. "They told you then?"

For a moment, his heart stopped. Fear chilled his veins at the thought that she would already know about the lie he was holding inside him. "What?"

"My brothers. I'm guessing they told you about yesterday? About it being the anniversary of our dad's death."

Suddenly, it all made sense. Her tears, her shock, and her anger… The way all she could say to him was that simple, sad sentence. I forgot. Suddenly, Jake understood why she'd seemed distracted yesterday, why it felt like she'd been avoiding something. "That's why you were… I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It's not your fault," she answered. "I could have canceled."

"Why didn't you?"

Lena shrugged, and even though he could still see how pained she was, she smiled at him. "I wanted to be with you."

After the night Jake had, hearing those words made him feel elated. Lena was here, smiling at him as though she'd never known an ounce of pain. She was here. She was with him. So, he stepped forward, happy that she didn't flinch when he approached and wrapped his arms around her.

The feel of her gentle embrace and the softness of her breath against his neck made it hard for him to keep all he now knew inside. He cradled her head, cradled every inch of her, as though he was afraid she'd bruise beneath him. No, that wasn't why, he realized. This hug was his silent and innocent way to prove to her that his hands would not be like the ones she'd known before. His hands would be safe and steady and gentle.

"I missed you today," she murmured against him. There was still a lingering sadness in her voice that made him want to hold her tighter.

"I missed you too, princess."

She pulled away then, looking up at him with a smile. "You can stay here tonight if you want to."

"It is getting late," he replied, reading the emotions on her face too easily.

Lena giggled, a sound that made him feel better. "I'd hate for you to get your ass kicked trying to get home."

He smirked. "We both know how easy it is for me to get my ass kicked."

"Come on."

Undressing in the small bedroom felt different that night. They'd undressed together a hundred times, but here, it felt comfortable and unhurried. If it'd been anyone else, he'd have expected her to be bashful beneath his steady gaze, but Lena wasn't anyone else. She met that gaze with one of her own, those green eyes he loved so much, pausing on his tattoos for just a hair longer than everywhere else. It was like a dance, the sincere examination of one another. A dance she excelled at.

Once he was in just his boxers, he situated himself on her bed, bringing the covers up just enough to leave room for her. Jake watched her throw their clothes to the side and brush through her hair before she joined him on the bed. Her skin was warm against his, soft as she moved to find a comfortable spot.

The mattress was lumpy and uneven, clearly older and more worn, but as she settled against him, her tired eyes drooping until they closed, he realized he didn't care about the lumps. As long as she was beside him, happy and safe and tired, Jake didn't care about anything else.

His hands gently massaged her shoulders as he pressed his nose into her hair before pulling it neatly to the side and looking down at her. The pit in his stomach burned then, remembering how broken she'd sounded on that tape… Remembering the scarred hand that clawed at her hair. She had every reason to push him away, to shrink from him every time he ran his fingers through that red mane, but she never did. 

"Our girl is so strong." Nana had told him. Strong, selfless, beautiful… Too good for him. Jake looked at her, mind running wild with what he knew and what he still didn't. How did you do it? He wanted to ask her. How did you survive? How did you keep all this good in you?

She tilted her head slightly, seeing the emotions in his eyes, "What’s on your mind?”

“I just…" admire you, adore you… The fear that he'd pushed too far last night ate away at him. "I didn’t make you feel… obligated to stay last night, did I?”

She sat up, touching his cheek with a gentle smile. “No! I stayed because I wanted to stay, Jake.”

“You just seemed unsure before all the fun.”

“I mean… I guess I was a bit… Nervous,” I admitted sheepishly.

The grin was instinctual, but his smirk was full of joy. "Nervous about seeing me? I'm flattered."

"Not about that, jackass. Just… I…" With a sigh, she shook her head, pulling her body closer to his. "I was just nervous that you were expecting it to be different."

Jake couldn't help but run his fingers through her hair, gentle and safe as he hummed. "I didn't really have any expectations."

He could feel her body tense slightly and hear the slight nervousness in her voice as she asked, "Why did you tell Simone we were going on a date then?"

What? He thought, mulling over all his and Simone's conversations before last night. Nothing he said had anything to do with his plans with Lena. "I didn't tell Simone we were doing anything yesterday. Why would you think that?"

"I swung by the restaurant before meeting you. She told me I looked cute and not to be nervous because you were good at this sort of thing. Then she assured me she could keep our date a secret."

It made no sense. Simone didn't know about his plans. She rarely even asked him about that sort of thing anymore unless she needed him for something. "I…" He paused, genuine confusion and frustration making his head hurt. God dammit. "I'll talk to her about it. Sorry if that made you feel-"

She covered his mouth before he could fully apologize. "I didn't feel obligated to do anything. I wanted to. I just… I'm not very good at this."

"It's hard to imagine anything you're not good at."

Her nose scrunched up with her laugh. "I assure you, I'm horrible at a lot of things."

"Name one," he challenged.

"This," she replied, quiet but smug.

Jake rolled his eyes, arms tightening around her, a silent reassurance that he didn't care about how supposedly bad she was at anything. "You seem pretty good at it to me."

He watched her pupils widen. "Well, you're biased, so what you think doesn't count."

A comfortable silence filled the Harrow's apartment. Jake listened to the light sound of Peter and Patrick lingering downstairs, his thoughts quickly filling with how good it felt to be here. Usually, he disliked sleeping in other people's apartments, but he felt at home here. His chest burned, lungs filling with cherry-scented air. Say it! He encouraged himself. Ask her! "So… What…" Don't fucking pussy out just ask! "What is this?"

The silence was now unbearable as Lena continued to breathe against him. "I thought you hated labels."

He smiled at that, recognizing her deflection as something he likely would've done had she been the one to ask. "Normally, I do. But, this isn't normal… Is it?"

"No, it's not." The look in her eyes was soft but held a fearful gleam that made him feel sick.

"We don't have to have this conversation right now," he assured her. "Raincheck?"

The relief was instant as she nodded her head, suddenly looking so tired. "Raincheck.”

Tomorrow, he told himself. They could talk tomorrow. Settling into her bed, Jake held her, his body slowly coming down from all the adrenaline it'd been pumping through him throughout the night.

"Jake?" She quietly asked, lips caressing his skin as she spoke.

"Yeah, princess?"

"If my brothers didn't tell you about Dad… Why were you already here when I got back?"

He tried not to freeze as the reality finally settled over him. A decision had to be made now. Jake's mind raced, his heartbeat slowly quickening. "I…" Her hands curled into his shirt as she snuggled her face deeper into his chest before she settled in the warm comfort of him. "I was worried about you, so I showed up to ask if they'd seen you. Then you walked in."

She giggled, the sound forcing his joy and adoration of her to mingle with the lie he'd just told. "I do have amazing timing, don't I?"

Jake pressed his lips to her head. He wasn't going to steal her choice. He wouldn't rob her of the safety she found in him. He wouldn't let Howard, Olive, or even Simone rob them of this. She was here, safe in his arms… And he would be damned if anyone tried to take that away. "Yeah," he said softly. "You really do."

That night, Jake lay awake in her old room, holding Lena tighter than usual. He focused on her steady heartbeat echoing in his chest and the deep, sleepy breaths she took. He focused on the fact that she was alive - that she was here and not…

His eyes closed, and his jaw tightened. "Never again," he whispered into her skin. "He won't touch you ever again."

Cars driving by filled the room, the sounds of bugs fluttering around and the chatter of the city. Among it all, Jake's solemn whisper was the loudest. "I promise."

[ow-the-hedge]

The best boys!!!

This is one of my fave Sonic ships that I never even thought about until @jadegullyzone made me adore it (I hope you don't mind the tag ;-;). I really love the dynamic they could have so I'm gonna ramble about them, probably incoherently 😅 Also, keep in mind that I haven’t seen every single Sonic games cutscene yet. If I get something wrong about these two, feel free to correct me!

I don't feel strongly about shipping anyone in Sonic and for me everyone can be just friends/a big family and I'd be 100% happy with it. This is probably why I imagine their relationship to not be very romantic or full of physical affection but still focused on trust and just being there for each other.

Now here's an important part - in ALL of my Shadow x anyone ships I don't want the other person to fix or heal Shadow or be a trauma dumping ground for him. A relationship goes both ways so both parties are there for each other and both are allowed to express their emotions, without hurting the other person or forcing them to be their therapist. This actually goes for any of my ships - these are all kids/young adults who are just trying to push through hard times together. They give each other support mutually.

Now regarding these two specifically; Shadow is constantly on the move, in the middle of the action but he’s emotionally reserved and level-headed. Meanwhile Knuckles dedicated himself to a single place but he is a man of action, ready to act immidiately, sometimes impulsively. This makes me think that whenever they could meet up, Knuckles would love to hear about Shadow’s adventures and in return Knux would help Shadow find some peace and comfort.

Knuckles is very direct and straight to the point kind of guy so he would occasionally surprise Shadow with bold questions, some Shads might not be ready to answer. But Knux wouldn't force anything out of Shadow, instead he would ask something else or change the subject. But when Shadow would speak, Knuckles would listen attentively. He may be hot-headed and have trouble understanding some convoluted things in canon but he is absolutely not dumb.

Shadow would give him equally careful attention for sure. Here's the thing - Knux goes on adventures with Sonic all the time and that is their way of bonding. Saving each other, running away from (or towards) the danger, looking for clues, helping the innocent, basically action. And after those adventures with Sonic, Shadow is the one willing to listen to Knuckles' thoughts and memories which probably would've gone unheard otherwise. Knuckles is probably taken aback when he's given this much attention for the first time from Shadow and he isn't rushed or spoken over.

Not saying that Sonic or Tails don't talk with him at all though! Knux just spends time with them mainly while doing something fast-paced and either dangerous or silly. Meanwhile, Shadow is there to hear all about it.

I could probably go on and on but here's how I see their relationship overall. I hope it made sense ':3

[connortalbot]

The Wolf

“Primal, deadly, and awesome. Little in the world can match the werewolf’s relentlessness or brute force. Those cursed by a bite or born into a bloodline carry a great fury within them. But fury, like all emotion, can be tempered and forged into something greater…”

MORE DETAILED STATS | WANTED CONNECTIONS

Basic Statistics:

Name: Connor Henry Talbot the Second

Age: 30 years old

Gender: Cisgender Male (He/Him)

Sexuality: Bisexual

Circle: Night

Occupation: Owner of Luna Books

A Shortened Biography:

The Talbot family has been around since the beginning of Vegas and, thus, the beginning of the Midnight Underground itself. The rumor is his great-great grandfather Samuel Henry Talbot, only 22 years of age in 1905, had sat at that table, across from Moira, and said his piece regarding the naming of the Midnight Underground. No one will ever know for sure now though. The people from then are long dead or long gone, Moira now rotting in her grave, and poor Samuel died three months before his son was born. A fledgling hunter, excited to earn his place, had shot the man dead on his very doorsteps.

If you know of the Midnight Underground, you know of the Talbots, and thus you know of Connor (both of them). His father is the current leader of the largest pack of wolves in Las Vegas. As the first born son, Connor is supposed to take control of them. Or, he was anyway. His 30th birthday came and went with little fanfare, no passing down of the torch. Rumors ran rapid and wild after that. The current running theory is that the second son, Clifford (he really did try to convince his parents that naming a wolf after a dog would cause nothing but trouble) is going to be the one who takes over.

The reality of that situation is a little more complex.

His parents are not stupid. They know very well that Cliff would run their family into the ground if given the chance at power. He is young, dumb, and a little too excited for a chance at proving himself to be a big dog. Pun intended. They can’t let him have the thing he desperately wants. And thinks he deserves.

However, after Connor’s...unfortunate incident that’s left him in debt to Damien Harker of all people, they aren’t willing to pass down anything to him until all of that is resolved. So for now, they simply say that his dad isn’t quite yet ready to move on. That people, and thus wolves, are living longer and it seems like exchanging hands of power at 30 is a silly tradition when you’ve got almost another 100 years to live after that.

But those who know, know and it’s his biggest shame to date, degree in English Literature be damned.

A Little Levity (Headcanons)

Connor is covered in tattoos. The most impulsive of which being the moon fazes that follow along his spine. Many of the others are literary references he’s unwilling to admit to. Though his personal favorite is the half sleeve Artemis portrait on his left shoulder. Goddess of the moon and all that.

My son fucks. Frequently. Perhaps as a coping mechanisms for his own feelings of failure. But don’t tell him that.

You know it’s not projection because his two favorite books are actually East of Eden (a novel I hate so much it’s become part of my personality) and Pride and Prejudice (but he won’t tell you that one unless you’re very close).

Okay maybe I am projecting with Pride and Prejudice a little bit.

Connor wears glasses. It’s an unfortunate side effect to the fact that as a wolf he can see fucking everything. His eyes are tired.

He loves to fight. God he loves to fight. He loves it almost as much as he loves to fuck. There’s nothing quite so satisfying as crunching someone’s nose in with bloodied knuckles.

Surprisingly, he played volleyball in high school. Mostly because his parents didn’t want him playing a sport where he had a lot of opportunity to throw punches and the thought of him playing golf and having access to a metal stick he could just swing was equally as terrifying.

By technicality, it is kind of a good thing that he’s aggressive. However monitoring that aggression in a public high school was an absolute nightmare.

Didn’t stop him from getting a 4.0 GPA though.

For high school and college.

He actually got accepted into UCLA for English, but his parents didn’t like that nor want it so he was forced to go to UNR (it was as far away as they would let him go) and tack on a Business major at the end of it.

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 7

Day 7 - There is a string tied around your pinky that only you can see, the end of it leads to your soulmate.

Pairing(s): Kid AU! Intrulogical

TWs: Remus being Remus [though not overly so, he’s like, 9 here], some swearing

–

Remus Castillo and Logan Smith were two very different children; former was creative and bursting with chaotic energy, while the latter preferred to be more logical, more stable. One studied hard into the night despite his young years, the other decided that a good time was filling a blender with crayons and silly putty to see what would happen. Both attended different schools, lived a good distance apart, and neither of their families knew the other existed.

What could possibly bring together such opposing forces?

If your answer wasn’t being forcibly dragged kicking and screaming from the local museum by security for tampering with the exhibits and screaming about historical theft, then congratulations; you’re most likely still sane.

How did these very different children meet, you ask? 

The story began on a Friday lunchtime - as all good stories often do - when Sanders Elementary and Faraday Academy For Gifted Children both booked their museum visits for the same time slot. Thankfully, the museum staff speculated that they could indeed handle two classes of fourth graders at once - those poor, unfortunate souls - and decided to start both classes off on either sides of the museum with a little overlap.

Logan entered the foyer with his peers, gazing around at the array of trinkets and treasures adorning the space. Though he hungered for knowledge of all kinds, his heart was set on the cosmos, reaching for a copy of the museum’s map when his hand was blocked by another. He recoiled and turned to face the other; a boy with tanned skin as opposed to his own pasty complexion, with wild green eyes that bore into Logan’s own, and a grin like a shark about to snap Logan’s hand up in it’s jaws.

“I call dibs, four eyes!”

Logan huffed, straightening his glasses, “There are plenty of maps to go around, there is no need for rudeness-”

“Why do you talk like you’ve got a stick up your ass?”, the boy asked with no hint of remorse nor shame, “Just talk like a regular kid, jeez!”

Logan was flabbergasted. No one had ever talked to him like that before. Then again, no one ever really talked to him in general. Perhaps that was why his lonely little brain could only think to stammer out, 

“Who ARE you!?”

The boy roared with laughter, “Wow, thats all you have to say!? And they call ME weird!” , he shot a hand out towards Logan’s, not removing the one touching the map, “I’m Remus! What’s your name, frankenstein?”

Logan huffed, “Logan Smith. And you know,”, he began, puffing his chest out proudly as he yanked the map away, “Frankenstein was the scientist, not the monster, therefore, you’re not insulting me-”

Without hesitation, Remus leant into Logan’s space and licked the map, causing Logan to jolt back and drop it. Picking up his spoils, Remus chuckled manically, “You look smart but you’re super dumb. Frankenstein IS the monster, dumbass, that’s the whole point.”. Without waiting for Logan’s rebuttal, Remus made his way back to his class, leaving Logan to frustratedly grab another map and return to his class, unaware of the string that formed around his pinky…

The tour was everything Logan had hoped for; an informative romp through space and time, enjoying the sights of the planetarium and a walk through a tunnel lined with geodes. And yet, all Logan could think about was that stupid boy who stole HIS map. Hmph! How dare Remus call him stupid! Whatever, at least they would stop soon to have lunch in the Polar Exhibit and he wouldn’t have to think about- 

Oh god dammit.

As they entered the wide circular room, he laid eyes on the boy from before pretending to have gotten his tongue stuck to the giant fake iceberg in the centre of the room. Cheering him on was a gaggle of other children while their teacher seemed more content to just eat his own lunch and try to pretend it wasn’t his problem. Logan huffily stormed over to the nearest empty seat and popped open his Big Hero Six lunchbox, ready to moodily munch his jelly sandwiches when a painfully familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

“We meet again, professor!”

Great.

“Remus.”, Logan hissed, though he tried to maintain composure, “A pleasure, I’m sure but I must be-”

“- crazy to run away from your soulmate?”, Remus finished, leaving Logan, once again, speechless.

“E-Excuse me!?”

“Check your pinkie, dingus.”

Logan checked and finally noticed the string, and to his horror, the end of it that tied itself around Remus’ pinkie.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me for life! Unless I die, then you’re stuck with my corpse. Oooh! Maybe you can bring me back to life! Really earn that Frankenstein nickname-”

“This HAS to be a mistake!”, Logan squeaked, flustered and shocked by the news, “There’s no way YOU are my soulmate!”

Logan made eye contact with Remus and for a moment the boy looked hurt, but he plastered on a grin and poked Logan in the arm, “Nope! Fate thinks you’re my future husband, so suck it!”

Groaning, Logan let out an exasperated sigh, “Fine, then I suppose you should tell me about yourself, Remus.”. Logan would - for eternity and a day after - deny that the smile Remus gave him made his little heart flutter for the first time.

As the two ate, Remus went into a long tangent about his life and Logan found himself absolutely fascinated. 

Remus Castillo had a twin brother, Roman, who enjoyed Disney movies and being “an overly wordy drama queen”. They had a single father, much like Logan’s own, whose wife had apparently decided she was destined for greater things that didn’t involve unplanned twin boys (Remus’ words, not his). Logan listened as Remus told him all about his family’s culture, having moved from Aguascalientes to Florida a year ago for work related reasons; retelling fond memories of watching the parade of Calaveras along the Avenida Madero with his father and brother each year. Logan found Remus really enjoyed a mixture of colourful and morbid subjects, each tangent sending Remus on a fun winding road down memory lane or through a vague memory of some educational book.

Logan Smith had wanted nothing to do with the boy who’d licked his hand and stolen his map, but as lunch ended and both classes were being called away to their respective classes, he found he didn’t want to be separated from Remus.

Very apparently, Remus didn’t want to either. If they way he was gasping Logan’s arm and hauling him towards the class from Sanders Elementary instead of his own was any indicator. 

“Come on! You can hang with us! Roman won’t mind! And my buddy Remy’s lotsa fun too-”

“Remus Castillo, stop right there.”

Remus indignantly ignored his teacher, plowing through his sentence, “You’ll LOVE my class, they’re all weirdos like us-”

“REMUS!”, barked his teacher, already done with the nine year old terror, “You let that boy go this instant!”

Remus defiantly clung tighter to Logan’s arm, “No!”

“Remus Castillo, you’re to let go NOW.”

“But he’s my soulmate!”, Remus yelled, causing his classmates to chatter excitedly. It made Logan feel a little self conscious, but Remus didn’t seem to care, “Pleeeeease let him come with us!!”

His teacher rubbed his temples as if it could massage the exhaustion away, “That’s nice, but you are NOT going to cause more trouble, soulmate or not!”

By now, even the children and teacher from Logan’s academy were watching the commotion. It came to a head as Remus’ teacher tried to separate the two of them, earning the tiniest war cry from Remus as he stomped on his teacher’s foot and clung fully to Logan like his life depended on it.

“I’M NOT LEAVING WITHOUT HIM! I’LL STAY HERE UNTIL WE’RE A GROSS MUSHY PILE OF SKIN AND BONES IF I HAVE TO!”

With that pleasant image in his brain, Logan decided to perhaps appeal to his own teacher,

“Miss, can Remus perhaps stay with our group so we may avoid further-”

“Absolutely not,”, she turned up her nose at Remus’ display, “Our school has a reputation to uphold, I will not have it sullied by such a rude child.”

Well that backfired. Now both teachers were having to try and separate the two of them. It took two of the museum’s security personnel to finally haul Remus off of Logan, carrying the writhing child as they assured his teacher that they’d put him in the tantrum room. With the way they handled his feral yelling and attempts to grab at any nearby exhibits for something he could use to bash them with, this probably wasn’t their first Rabid Child Rodeo.

Logan watched dejectedly as they hauled his soulmate out of sight while his teacher ordered him to get in line as they continued their tour. He couldn’t focus on any of the various bewitching artifacts that the guide presented to them on their tour of the ancient world though, all he could think about was Remus. Alone. Stuck in some room. Missing out on the exhibits. Missing him.

“....Emile?”, Logan asked the boy standing to his left.

“Yes, Logan?”

“I’m about to do something very, very impulsive.”

“.... Okay?”

“And reckless.”

“...Right-”

“In the name of fate.”

“........”, Emile sighed, “What do you need me to do?”

“Either talk me out of what is likely a terrible decision that will without a doubt go on my permanent record and possibly disappoint my father. Or encourage me so that I may spend time with my soulmate for as long as possible.”

Emile shook his head, “Well, if cartoons have taught me anything, it’s that you’re gonna go for it no matter what I say so...”. He placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder, “Make it good, Logan, I wanna remember the day the untouchable Logan Smith lost his mind.”. With a shared chuckle, Emile let him wind up for whatever he was about to do, while Logan waited for his moment. The tour guide was gesturing to an exhibit of ancient Mayan armour when Logan chose to strike, raising his hand while Emile awaited the fireworks show to come.

“Sir? I have a question.“

“Of course, what is it?”

“Did the museum ask permission to have that armour?”

The guide looked confused while Logan’s teacher looked ready to have an aneurysm.

“I… don’t understand what you mean. Anyway this-”

“I’m merely asking,”, Logan interrupted, ready to keep pushing until he would be  hauled off by security, “because I believe that if it were my culture being mercilessly appropriated and stolen from, I would be rather upset.”

“We’re allowed to have it because it’s for education-”

“But it’s still stealing. And stealing is always wrong, correct?”

“Well, it-”

“It’s a yes or no question, please answer as such-”

-

Remus hadn’t expected company in the tantrum room, but he wasn’t complaining as Logan was marched in, looking positively proud of himself in spite of the way the security guard nearly tossed him inside with obvious frustration. With a bright grin, Remus pat the beanbag next to him, positively writhing with unbridled joy, “Spill! What’d you do?!”.

Logan tried to play stoic and prideful, but the excitement cracked through in his voice, “I merely inquired as to why museums considered their historical thievery to be ethically justified until the tour guide got angry and attempted to ignore me.”. “Sick!! Then what!?”, Remus’ delighted eyes met Logan’s with a similar sparkle of mischief.

Logan chuckled as he admired their string of fate, as people called it, slowly pulling his eyes from it to meet Remus’ again, “I screamed. Loudly. For quite the duration. I must say, I’m rather proud of my own lung capacity.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a fondness in it.

“Naturally, security came to try and calm the situation.”

“And then they brought you here?”

“No, they attempted to calm me down”, Logan snickered, “But, one of them put a hand on my shoulder rather rudely. So I bit them-” “YOU BIT ‘EM!?”, if Logan could bottle the light that radiated from Remus there and then, he would have, his own smile growing while his soulmate’s grin threatened to tear through his cheeks, “Logan, mi alma, you’re insane! I love it!”

“Mi alma?”, Logan queried, his cheeks losing the great blush war as his face radiated a nice rosy crimson.

“Oh, right!”, Remus explained, “It means ‘my soul’, it’s what people call their boyfriends ‘n’ stuff back home. I figured since you’re my soulmate, it makes sense to call you that!”

For a moment, Remus faltered, “Uh…. if you don’t mind I guess? It’s whatever, I’ll stop if you hate it-”

“No, no, I rather appreciate the sentiment,” , Logan awkwardly smiled back at Remus, “Mi alma?”

The wilder of the two threw his head back in a roar laughter, “Man, your pronunciation sucks! And that’s an easy one!“, he teased as he shuffled his beanbag closer to Logan’s and continued with a wild smile, “Looks like I gotta stay with you for sure now and make sure you get it right! You’re stuck with me, Nerdy Wolverine!”

It would be hard work convincing his father to let him move schools to be with Remus, Logan knew that. Despite the fact his father adored love in all forms and regarded the bond of soulmates as sacred, Logan knew it’d logically be a hard sell to ask his father to not only pull him out of an expensive academy, but also to have him possibly move home or make a rather lengthy commute. 

But as Remus’ had met Logan’s, the latter found himself locking fingers with his wild soulmate, banishing that thought while they still had time together. Whether it would work out right away, after a couple of months, or even over the course of a few years, they’d make it work.

“Falsehood,”, Logan smirked, “I believe it’s you that’s stuck with me.”

-----------

Okay, this one’s the cutest thing hands down. I’m so proud of this one! As a tidbit, I had it in mind that their single fathers were Janus for the twins and Patton for Logan. 

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses

[papers4me]

List of Intriguing Golden Kamuy Characters: (part 1)

As I read more chapters of Golden Kamuy, the characters get more fleshed out & layers upon layers of their broken selves get explored.

A general theme: is the the changing mentality of men before, a mid & after wars. How their psyche & mind change as the brutality of war breaks them apart.This manga is very unique in presenting its characters as human with degrees of good & bad in every one of them. None of these men is innocent & naive. They’re all aware of their current position as war soldiers whether deserters, discharged or on duty. Basically it is a manga abt broken men. Asirpa, the sole female protagonist, is presented as an innocent but practical character, but will she stay the same or will the hunt for gold & the worry for Ainu future change her?

Fascinating aspect: the dynamics between characters are one of the most entertaining in anime that I’ve read! truly unique. The characters, thanks to the plot, are forced to change sides & join different groups repeatedly throughout the story & each time, I discover new brilliant dynamics!!! The humor is good with a dash of adult jokes! The deadly hotel dynamics, the circus dynamics, the trip to Abashiri, the trip to Karafatu dynamics! & more, are all well-done.

Below, I’ll write very short & general broad summary of what I find fascinating abt each character. I’ll divide them into groups.  ( contains spoilers)

1.Sugimoto's group:

Saichi Sugimoto: the protagonist. A discharged soldier. He is a troubled soul who has very low self worth despite his immense desire to stay alive. His kindness contrast his violent brutality. He kills criminals/soldiers with no mercy yet he’ll put himself in danger for those he cares for. I’m especially interested in his journey to reconcile with past self. I need for him to have a journey away from Asirpa & everybody. A self cleansing path where he accepts that perhaps it’s okay for him to not end up in Hell. His own personal issues with his past & the guilt he carries coupled with his fear that Umeko (his first love & his friend’s widow) will see the monster that he believes he’s become is highly fascinating to me! How will he deal with that? & if he were to ever meet Umeko again will she sense the past Saichi or the blood drenched Sugimoto or if there will be a different Sugimoto when the gold hunt is over? Perhaps, we won’t ever know. Perhaps letting her go & letting all his past go is part of his new journey? Can you start new while ignoring the past? I need to see Sugimoto’s own journey!

Asripa: 12 or 13 year old girl who is independent & capable to sustain herself without the need of any man. This child’s young age is especially important for the story that is full of adult  & veteran men of war as she represents the hopeful future. The future is the children who shouldn’t be plagued by their parents’ sins & desires. Her father put her in the center of danger & threw a huge burden on her. His own dream that is conveniently introduced as the salvation of her ppl. A dream that kept changing with every new step he takes, a dream that clashes with other men’s dream & for them to achieve theirs, they need Asripa who is is in the middle of it all. I want Asripa to find a path that is hers, not her father’s. Moreover, I want her to grow independently from Sugimoto whom she now considers the center of her own dream. She needs to see the world & grow up as a woman before she ties herself with others for life.

 Shiraish: A comic relief convict with unique escape skills, who in the later chapters has grown immensely without loosing his comic value! I love his growth!! & yet is to come! he’s become the rational one in the group while being super silly! Very satisfying indeed!

2.The 7th Division: (aka the most fascinating set of characters)

Tokushirō Tsurumi: One of the most well-written villains that I’ve recently come across. He’s fluid, entertaining, manipulative & fascinating. You literally can’t predict his moves or even his moods! Can’t tell if what he’s saying is truth or lie. Tsurumi is the writer’s unchained character cuz while Hijikata is tied a bit by historical reference to a real character, Asirpa to the Auni & Sugimoto as her bodyguard. The writer can simply write Tsurumi freely to fit every shape & every mold. There’s even logical reason for his mood swings & erratic behavior; he lost part of his brain in a war explosion & wears a metal plate to cover the open wound. He’s extremely clever, analytical & his schemes go along way into the past. He even molded & exploited his men to his advantage. He has a tragic background & in the later chapter was able to validly show the pros & cons of Wilk & Hijikata’s plan’s while masquerading his as the more logical one. He can be a comic relief, terrifying, genuine, cunning, loving, despicable, handsome, disgusting & above all it creeps me out how alive he seems in the chapters! he’s so animated I feel he’ll leave the manga panel & invade my space!! good stories need well-written antagonist & the writer really hit it with Tsurumi! well-done.

Hyakunosuke Ogata: Another unpredictable character. Like Tsurumi, he’s given a tragic background & just like Tsurumi as well, he makes unexcused & horrible decisions. Clearly he’s mentally unstable (a running theme in GK). Ogata, in addition to being the best sniper in the show & performing well in war, chose to add innocent victims to his list. He shot his brother & even attempted to kill Asipra, any writer will make this as simply a lunatic character, but this writer chose to tie such unexcused behavior to Ogata’s unstable psyche to show that from his own perspective; it makes sense! Afterall, it’s simply “ normal” to not ever feel guilt over killing human. His brother comes to haunt him in one of the most cinematic scenes & even plays with his mind. You’d think Ogata has gone rouge against everybody? Guess again, he’s got allies. Told you it’s hard to predict!

Genjirō Tanigaki: loved, endearing & dumb. lol. he’s simply a “shoujo girl” in a historic war manga. Tanigaki started dark, torn, filled with guilt in one of the tragic background stories, but was released from his tormented soldier persona by a convict who taught him, it is okay to start a new again. Desert the army, let go of the past & start again. he’s rewarded with a wife & a daughter but not before going on a journey with the others to showcase his manly charms & naive persona! love him.

Hajime Tsukishima: Another fascinated character that silently took me off guard with how much I cared for him! I had to go back & see where did he start! He was a background character assisting Tsurumi, then slowly became a prominent character with his own fascinating background story where you feel for him & see the depth of Tsurumi’s manipulation. I can’t even begin to explain Tsukishima mentality & psyche in this short summary! he’s got depth! that’s for sure.

Otonoshin Koito: the youngest in the division & one of the youngest men in the entire cast, but got high army rank thanks to his father & joining a military academy. You wanna know how manipulative Tsurumi is? read Koito’s background story. epic! Koito is impulsive, stubborn, inexperienced & highly skilled. He’s a bit naive at times but not dumb. He’s got amazing comic relief value tied with plot importance! His dynamics with Tsukishima & Ogata & Sugimoto are brilliant! you’ll never get bored!

Tokishige Usami : another unstable character. He shares Ogata’s belief that it’s normal to not feel guilt. Through him the writer argues that whether you come from tragic background (Ogata) or loving family (Usami), not feeling the slightest guilt over killing human is not normal. Ogata kills his mother while Usami kills his friend, both were young when they did their first innocent kill. However, unlike Ogata, Usami is very loyal to Tsurumi & obsessive of him. He’s strong, skilled, deadly & very creepy!! like very~~~~ creeeeepy~

Kōhei Nikaidō: from one of the creepiest sadistic soldiers to a sad, mentally unstable & tormented shell. He’s become such a valuable comic relief! I used to shudder when I see him, now I can’t stop laughing. Hard fall for the sadistic Nikaido! lol.

Kiktua: a new addition. So secretive & appears level headed & has good sense of morals.

Airko: another new addition: Ainu soldier. Appears naive, with high morals yet indecisive.

I could say more abt each character, but this is meant to be a summary. Each character is deep & has broken mentality that led to their decisions whether excused or unexcused. The convicts & Hijikata are next! But I had to start with Sugimoto & the 7th division! cuz that’s the main dish!

[fayeimara]

Meant To Be Series || One For Every Billion

Episode 4. If You're A Masochist

Putting your phone away after posting your latest update, you look around one more time for either of your cousins. The oldest, Ren, had left you with his brother Shin, strictly telling him not to leave you alone before he met back up with you both. But then you convinced Shin to call the car and drop off the bags you'd overloaded him with, agreeing to meet back here this cute café. It had been pretty easy to convince him, seeing as how you could barely make him out over the bags and boxes of items you'd bought for your friends and family back home. It was fair play, after all, you'd brought just as many gifts with you for your cousins here when you'd arrived.

Smiling as you tip the cup of coffee up to your lips, you consider if you've harassed him enough for the day or if you should top it off by ordering him something he'll hate just to see that distressed look on his face. He deserves it for the prank he pulled on you a few days ago, when they picked you up from the station, literally scaring you half silly when he snuck up from behind you, grabbed you, and started to run. You were pretty worried because not a single person in the busy terminal had tried to stop him even though you were clearly (momentarily) terrified and not aware of who had 'kidnapped' you until he'd finally put you down. You guess you should have expected this with him though, given you both have always messed around with each other, pulling fun pranks and stupid stunts, since the two of you were kids, but you'd gotten completely complacent since you'd last seen these oh so lovely cousins of yours.

If there was any doubt on whether you had any payback planned for Ren, well, he was the one who'd grabbed not only your bags but also several pictures of your embarrassing slip in composure, i.e. your briefly terrified face, and shared it with the world. So yeah, you were sure he was sleeping with an eye open for the time being, which is why you would call on your considerable patience before hitting him subtly and satisfyingly when he least expected it.

With that in mind, you head back to the counter to place another order and then ask if there are any specialty dessert shops in the area. Happy to hear of one pretty close, you're sure you'll be able to quickly head over and back before Shin returns.

The shop is as incredible as promised because it only takes them about ten minutes to prepare your custom order of mochi with a spicy twist. Trying one out, you can't help but enjoy the sweet flavour and texture even if you're disappointed that it doesn't seem to have the effect you were hoping for, until you feel the heat slowly build the more you chew. Oh. Oh my. Oh my g- Mouth burning, you quickly gulp at the coffee still in your hand to try and relieve the pain. Okay so.. it's perfect! Cue evil laugh.

You thank the brilliant artisans, because that's what they are, and promise to leave a review on your way out. It's not until you're walking by an alley (how typical, right?) between shops on your way back to the cat café, that you're pulled from your thoughts of not-so-sweet revenge.

"Give it up, kid." It's nothing alarming at first. Not until you hear the next cry.

"Don't touch me! Leave me alone!"

Um. What?

You've stopped even before you turn your head to look in at a couple older guys surrounding a little kid. Seriously, what's with the cliché? You honestly thought this only happened in anime but you guess dummies always prove people wrong.

Debating who you should call, because you're not going to assume adding yourself to the equation alone is going to be any help, you quickly look around only to realize that the only people passing by near or across the street either don't seem to care, or aren't the kind of people you'd feel comfortable asking for any assistance from. People can call you out on stereotyping but really, where's the kind but strong elderly gentleman or tough, no nonsense, do-gooder woman when you need one??

"Hey!" The tears in the kid's voice draw you back, with your head whipping around to witness one of the bullies reach out to grab his collar. Quick kid, he manages to dodge even if barely but he's about to be blindsided by one of the other guys.

You don't even have time to sigh at your stupidity as you run up between them as fast as you can, slapping the second guy's hand away from where it was reaching for the kid's arm.

With that loud sound and dramatic entrance, all eyes are now on you, but the element of surprise does provide enough time for you to pull the boy behind you and back the two of you up a bit so you're both not completely surrounded.

Okay, this kid barely reaches over your hip, he can't be older than about 6 or 7 maybe, what's he doing here alone?

"Well, well. What do we have here?" The first guy that had tried to grab the kid's collar studies you. You want to say his voice is annoying or that he's an ugly creep but he's just an average guy of about a few years older than you. The only distinct feature are his glasses and that's probably because you don't typically think of wannabe thugs in glasses. Again, so sue you for you conventional stereotypes, but you're in a kind of delicate situation to be worried about thinking inside the box.

"Why don't you tell me," You shoot back, pretty upset about this pathetic tableau, "since it looks like three guys old enough to know better than to bully little kids."

The third guy hasn't done much until now but he laughs at your statement and, okay, at least his laugh is kind of annoying, like a dumb donkey's braying. You hope he's trying to fake an evil laugh or something and that's not his real one? Seriously, it sounds forced and fake so you hope for his sake it really is or no one will trust him once they hear it if that's all he has to work with for the rest of his life. You're tempted to say that to his face, but you've also been told by your friends that your reckless impulses tend to escalate the situation when you need the opposite so you hold back.

Because you're outnumbered. With only a crying kid at your back, quite too literally.

"Oh no, we're not bullying him. He's my kid brother, you know? We were just messing with him since he was being a brat and grabbed the new games we just bought."

You hesitate, thinking it over. Did you make assumptions and jump in too fast? He didn't call out for help or say anything specific to indicate he didn't know these guys. You don't want to turn away to look him over, but he had been holding something clutched against his side.

You feel a little hand clench into the back of your dress and a couple tugs follow, so without turning away, you cast your gaze down and meet teary hazel eyes that are peering up with a little hope among the fear, "He's lying, oneesan, I don't know them."

"Ahh, stop lying and dragging the nice, pretty girl into this." Second guy speaks up, trying to reach around you to grab the kid, but you quickly shift the both of you back a bit more. You realize the wall is just behind you, if the kid's gasping sob means anything. You're out of space to maneuver.

So...you're in a tough spot, you've got your hands literally full and you're up against three guys that are definitely living up to your first impression of them. You don't really have time to think it over as 'glasses' loses patience and reaches for you directly, grabbing your arm that's holding the trick mochi and trying to pull you forward. "What's this? Maybe we should take it for the trouble you've added by interfering in a family issue."

"How about this instead?" And before you can pity the loss, you've thumbed off the lid to your delicious hot coffee that you guess won't get to finish drinking, and toss it in his face.

"Arhggh!" Wow, high pitched for a tough guy, but you really can't think about that right now. Goodbye, coffee, your sacrifice is appreciated.

"What the hell, you crazy b-"

"Don't bother, dumbass, it's probably not hot enough to permanently scar him at this point." True story, you like your coffee cooled down more than most.

They're staring at you like you're crazy but it's really just the recklessness you're known for. Although you should have held on to that reminder of your friends' warnings that ran through your head earlier because the situation has definitely been escalated if the mean, hateful looks that are appearing from behind their fake polite masks are anything to go by. They clearly weren't even trying that hard to pretend. While the second guy is supporting his friend who's flailing, 'Fake laugh' reaches for you, this time angled for the collar of your dress or even your neck, "You stupid bitch."

Oh okay. Well, I'm so sorry for my impertinence, god. This is payback for the mochi prank, isn't it? You actually roll your eyes upwards for a split second with that thought.

Then you prepare to drop the maybe-unlucky box for the coming fight but just before his hand reaches you, another suddenly shoots out and grabs it. Hard.

"Don't you know how to treat women, buddy?" Wow, now that's a nice voice.

Shifting your eyes to your left without turning your head, you catch sight of a handsome bedheaded guy about your age. You would probably be all heart eyes in any other situation- who are you kidding? This is literally the perfect situation.

"I don't think he does, but that's probably because he has zero experience with them." Yay, your mouth can run freely with your attitude now that you have some back up. Not that it stopped you earlier, though..

This new guy shifts his gaze to meet yours and looks pretty surprised at your smirky smile (yes you're calling it that). Why so surprised though? You guess you should have been crying or even praising this god for stepping in. Whatever, he's just a boy. Even if he is drool worthy.

He studies you and pauses briefly on the redness marking your wrist from where one of the guys had grabbed you and then his golden eyes flick down to the boy hidden behind you before focusing a steady stare back on the bullies, "I think you should leave before I really get pissed off."

He must be a magician because they vanish pretty fast after his low declaration, supporting their friend who's managed to wipe most of your precious coffee off of his slightly reddened face. Looks like, he'll live to be a dumbass another day. Could've told them that and avoided the escalation. Oh wait, you pretty much did, right?

The guy is turning back to you after watching them leave the alley and you reach for the little kid with the hand that once held your coffee. Feeling his little hand slip into yours, you start to walk the two of you towards the street while keeping your body angled so you don't completely turn your back on this new guy. You swear the amount of times you've had a situation like this turn into something unexpected is a little unnatural. "Wow. Well... Thank you, stranger, for your help."

He narrows those stunning eyes on you but you don't think he's angry, just a little confused for a moment, before he realizes you're equally wary of him. He moves out of the alley after you both, but thankfully not too closely, because you have to turn your back on him so you don't trip or walk into anyone once you reach the main street.

"It's Kuroo. Kuroo Tetsuro."

You silently startle around at the sound of his voice coming from a lot closer to you than expected but compose yourself quickly so as not to offend him by whirling around in alarm.

"Oh, uh.. nice to meet you." Okay, you both should be safe now. You turn back to face him and the kid is now glued to your side, tiny hands gripping your dress with both hands, one at your back and one at the front. At least it's not silk because that would leave quite the wrinkles. "Anyways... we have to get going now to find whoever lost this little guy."

His arm moves up, rubbing his hand in his hair at the back of his sheepishly tilted head. Probably can't get his hair any messier at this point. "That would be me."

"What?" You raise a disbelieving eyebrow. Always the unlikeliest odds with you and really, what are they anyways here in this situation? But it turns out he's not kidding and you're not misunderstanding.

"I'm the one who lost him. That's my little cousin you're trying to walk away with."

"Hey!" You protest his teasing implication, before looking down at the boy. The other guys tried this too, though.

So you delicately crouch down (aware you're in a dress and heeled ankle boots that could spell impending disaster if you lose your balance) to make sure you're at eye level with the kid. He's not crying anymore, but not looking happy or relieved either. Just staring back at you steadily, a little like the calm gaze of this other guy, actually, but let's not go with confirmation bias. Maybe he's just not an overly excitable kid to begin with.

"Do you know this guy?" You ask softly. He told the truth before, under the stress of a pretty scary situation, after all.

He looks over and up at the tall teen claiming to be his cousin before nodding. "Oh." You give the little boy a reassuring smile before leaning in to whisper in his ear, "Can I ask your name?"

And when you turn your ear to him so he can whisper a reply, you hear, "Itsuki."

Giving him another sweet smile, you stand back up and he's glommed right back onto your side. You meet the bedhead's eyes with your own slightly narrowed but steady too, and settle on a serious expression with an eyebrow raised. He hasn't looked away from you even once but that's fair considering you might actually be trying to take away his little cousin... whom he's lost already once today, if we're all being honest.

"What's his name?"

He raises an eyebrow to match yours, stance indicating he's in no rush but expression definitely amused, "You mean Itsuki?"

"Yeah.. okay, then." You look back down at the boy who's reluctantly releasing you as Kuroo moves closer to you both, your smile back on my face. "It was really nice to meet you, Itsuki. Thank you for being so brave and strong back there. I couldn't have sent those bullies away without you!"

"Or me?" Kuroo asks but it's not really a question more like an amused statement sliding into remind you that he did save you both in the end. Isn't he a little too close for politeness?

"I suppose." Now you have tilt your head back to look at him again. Argh, why is it like a compulsion to just stare your life away when you look into those eyes? "Thank you, then.. Kuroo."

"Not that you needed my help." Ohh, he's smirking at you and it. is. something. "You looked like you were mostly holding your own before I stepped in."

You laugh, because he's really just being nice and you don't know what expression your face might make after seeing his smirk if you don't pick amusement, "Pretty sure it was painfully obvious who brought the most advantage on our side if it came to a fight... and it wasn't me."

"Oya? Our side, huh? And what's your criteria for assessing that advantage?"

And before you can stop yourself, his question has you looking him up and down like.. like you're checking him out. Cue your blush. Ugh. You pass it off and try to push through, "What? I'm not supposed to notice that you have the physical advantage over me?"

Yeah, you worded that deliberately and wouldn't change it for anything because it's so worth it to see the red lightly tint his own cheeks. Yeah, I see your thoughts went there.

"Anyways," You start to step backwards, "Really, thank you."

You turn away to walk over to the coffee shop just another door down.

"Wait," You look over to see both Itsuki and Kuroo catch up to you quickly, the latter now holding on to the former gently but firmly, "I should be thanking you. You did step in to help my cousin when not many others would."

"Oya?" You copy his cute phrase with a look at him from the corner of your eyes and a teasing smile of your own, "How do you know he didn't step in to help me?"

"Somehow I doubt that." The three of you come to a stop in front of the coffee shop and Kuroo's distracted for a second, "Wait, this is your stop?"

"Yeah, why?"

He chuckles, "Ours too. We'd just stopped in here ourselves when Itsuki wandered away." We?

"Oh, I was here a little earlier too, but I needed to grab.." You lift the box, ".. this, for someone. I left my order here though."

"You lose your coffee often or just an addict?"

"Haha. Neither. It's... a thing. You'd think I'm horrible if I explain."

"I doubt I'd ever think that at this point. Can I pay for your new order and you can tell me about it over your next cup? You know, as a thank you for putting yourself in a dangerous situation for my cousin." Why does he make that sound both grateful and like a stern admonishment at the same time?

"I covered it already and it wasn't really for me. But I really appreciate the offe-"

You're cut off by the door opening and Shin bursting through with a very exasperated look on his face. Whoops, guess you took too long. He immediately starts complaining, "Where have you been?! Imagine my worry when I arrive here and you're gone! You promised you'd wait here."

Another guy has walked out behind him but you ignore that because you see that Shin's holding the drink you got him, but that has your name on it, and can't help but point out both literally and dryly, "Clearly so worried, you picked up my order in the meantime?"

"Hey, there are two drinks so I figured one was mine! But they're both awful!" Of course he tried them both. His face turns into a sad pout, "Why would you order such sour drinks when you know I hate them! And I know you do too! So... do you really hate me for that little thing? You've been so mean today."

You chuckle because this is literally the perfect opportunity. Well, actually, Kuroo is still standing by politely with Itsuki, watching you both with interest, but that other guy has walked up to them and is now also standing there. Is he gaming out here? Never mind.

You give Kuroo an apologetic smile with a finger held up to indicate you'll be a moment and then turn back to offer the box you've been holding onto this whole time to your dear cousin. "I can't imagine why you'd feel that way, but I did get you this, too. You can't have it all though, it's also for Ren."

He reaches for the box when you pop it open and happily exclaims, "Mochi? Aw, I take it back, you're the best!" before proceeding to pop two in his mouth. Oh. Uh-oh.

Okay then, closing the box, you walk back over to Kuroo as Shin happily munches away behind you. "Sorry, yes, I appreciate the offer but as you can see, I have my hands full with-"

"Ahhh! OMG, my mouth is burning!!! What is this?" Is he crying? He's definitely chugging that 'horrible' drink. "I take it back that I took it back. You do hate me. And for what?! I'm sorry I tried to kidnap you, okay?! Ahhh! Make it stop-"

He keeps rambling, even while alternating between choking down the sour drink and pausing for quick panting breaths every now and then, as tears actually run down his face. Even the gamer boy is momentarily distracted watching. You can't help the satisfied smile that stretches across your face as you watch Shin dissolve into tortured agony from the corner of your eyes and finish your sentence "-a pretty troublesome commitment already."

Kuroo looks a little worried but definitely way more amused, "I thought that box was something really special, the way you held onto it the whole time."

"Yeah, even in exchange for my precious coffee-" You wipe away a pretend tear and swear he mutters 'so you are an addict' under his breath before you finish, "but it was worth the revenge, wouldn't you say?"

"Well... He tried to kidnap you?"

"Ugh, don't ask. It was a stupid prank that I briefly fell for. But I think he won't try getting me back for a while. At least a week of peace."

"So.. don't mess with you, is what I'm hearing."

You laugh at his accurate interpretation, "Pretty much. Or do, if you're a masochist."

He looks slightly awed and a whole lot intrigued when he states, "At first I thought you were some incredible angel.. but you're pretty much more an incredible devil, aren't you?

"Incredible, either way? I'll take it." You smirk, thinking of the irony he'll probably never understand.

"How about my request for a name?"

"Isn't it Kuroo Tetsuro?"

"I'm asking for your name, Kitten." He's a little exasperated and just a smidge embarrassed that you made him spell it out. I mean, you like that he's all witty and smooth but... you really like a guy's direct side, too.

You do still smile and tease a little more, "Kitten could work, given the irony..." He gives you an unamused look, but you were continuing anyway, "But since you asked so nicely.. I'm Y/-"

"Oi!" Ren is standing across the street with the car, door open, "I've been looking for you. It's time to go."

"Oh," You look back at Kuroo who's still looking at Ren a split second longer before focusing back on you, "I'm sorry, I have to go!" You smile at him apologetically then face Itsuki, slightly crouched, to give him a bright smile, "Bye Itsuki! Take care and don't wander off again!"

You don't have time to say anymore than those goodbyes to the pair of cousins before your own is dragging you away, cursing you out and swearing he'll get you back. He's listing a lot of pretty creative ideas, silly boy, you'll just use them before he can.

You check both sides of the road as he's pulling you across since it doesn't look like he's going to but you both make it safely to Ren who just gives the two of you a droll look. "You guys definitely didn't listen to me."

He didn't even pose it as a question. You just shrug and give him a kiss on the cheek before sliding into the back of the sleek car, followed by Shin and then Ren, who calls out to let the driver know to take you all home. Maybe you glance out the tinted windows to steal one last look at Kuroo before the car starts to move away. Maybe you see that he's looking too, he's staring at the car but his mouth is moving and when it stops, the gamer boy says something back.

The last thing you see before the car pulls away completely and you can't see anymore is Itsuki pulling Kuroo back towards the café and he takes one last look your way before heading inside with his friend following.

You turn back around, not realizing you'd shifted your whole body. Ren is looking at you oddly so you just raise an eyebrow at him, but smile when Shin happily exclaims, "Hey Ren, we got you some treats too!"

Prev | Next

Masterlist

Behind The Scenes!

-Kuroo not only didn't get Y/n's name, but was pretty curious as to her close relationship with the two guys that we know as Shin and Ren

-If she had to measure, Y/n felt about the same level of attraction and connection with Kuroo as she did with Oikawa when she first bumped into him at the boba shop; he was interesting but still just a casual, fun encounter in the end

-Gamer boy was obviously Kenma, yeah?

-Is it funny for anyone else that Bokuto is liking or retweeting the posts about Y/n? Or is it just me because I clearly know too much?

-Itsuki is non-canon, if you weren't sure :(

A/N: I really like how this one turned out, I don't know why. It could have something to do with the fact that I've been a Kuroo simp the longest but I dunno, it just... flowed. And I barely even chewed over the edits.

Btw, if you guys ever see first-person POV (my, me, I, us, we) or 'Faye', it's probably a good time to restate that this started out as a purely self-indulgent imagining, which is why I write most seamlessly as myself in the scenarios. I then change it over to 'Y/n' and reader perspective during multiple levels of edits so you all can hopefully enjoy the story/scenarios too, but it can (and likely will) still slip through sometimes. Just let me know, and I'll fix it, thank you :) <3

Taglist: @delusivist

[sleepingvalley]

Futakuchi Kenji Brainrot Angst

Warning: Sad, Angst, and sad

Characters: Futakuhi Kenji, Kanji Koganegawa, Aone Takanobu, You

The sun takes a gander at you and your lover in bed. What a rude awakening it brings you. Rolling over to the opposite side of the small bed, kenji groans at the shift of the bed but once the sweet comforting weight is placed back, his annoyance turns into hums. "Ugh...what time is it..." "We're late" your chuckle is accomodated with light slaps to his cheeks. A friday such as this was much more appreciated with a quick day at school and some street candy afterwards. As the monotone pur of the microwave heats up your bentos, kenji reaches for you in the kitchen. "I dont have practice today, wanna go to the arcade later?" he struggles to open his eyes, however opening his eyes to you was never an unrewarded task really. His perfect match, you were. Your perfect match, he was.

Almost in synchrony both of you get ready. Opposite coloured mugs,pastel green and pink, of your chosen drinks. His a dark brew of coffee, yours a light cup of tea. Footsteps in harmony, a piano and violin accompaniment, towards the shower. Once both of you finish drying, you climb on top of your boyfriend's shoulder while you reach for the blazer at the back. His uniform unhanged from the lower cloth rack. Kenji crouches down, you getting off him, taking both of your shoes from the side. He passes the shoes to you, you passing his bag. "Hey did you charge th-" "Phone" passing your phones before he even finishes. You hurry to the kitchen to lock the gasoline to then reach for the bentos. Wrapping them up in a food cloth, the brunette giant walks to you carrying your bag and other school materials. "I got the lunch this time, burger patties." informing him, him giving you a smirk pulling you out of the apartment by now.

"Lock" "Key." He finishes. With each paired rythmn down the flight of stairs, a beep from his and your phone comes in. "Who was that?" Futakuchi takes a glance at your screen, clear with aone's messages of how late you both were. Always so respectable of course. "Ah shoot, we missed Ms. Hina's lecture again. You know how she gets when we-" " 'Have the audacity to even show up late together' I know I know hahhaha You think she'll get tired of it?" The hazel bowled boy mocks the mentor you two know so well by now, always scolding you two for the double trouble you bring. "Who texted you?" your voice not really striken with any emotion, "Probably aone as well. I'll let him know, we're on our way." he responds and brings his phone a bit closer to himself.

Soon approaching the awfully steep down hill path, you run down with all the resistance to not tumble. Kenji snorting at your silliness, "I hope you fall on your face!" He jokingly tease at you, "Oh yeah? I hope you trip and fall with me!" a fiery glint in your eyes with that mischevious smile he falls for. Running towards you, like the two stupid teens you are. You spin and laugh racing towards the school's backgate.

You remember being so scared the first time he even convinced you to jump. You were just first years then, so young and so scared of the rules, but he didn't care. You were miss careful, dubbed by kenji himself, as you thread carefully to every situation you came accross. You were careful in every decision until you chose to be with your long term boyfriend now.

You were in middle school when you first met him. He was tall for his age, like his best friend aone, but unlike the latter boy he wasn't any sort of a gentle giant. He'd pick on the other team if they even so do something wrong when playing. He was a bit of a bully, he even teased you at one point, nevertheless it didn't make you less in love with him then and now. You remember confessing at graduation, an impulse decision, a decision you accidentally made while your best friend nobu tried to ascertain your feeling for the 1/3 of your friend group. As an asshole does after shamelessly evesdropping on the conversation, kenji obnoxiously comes out and teases you right before he goes...

"Woah I didn't even know how obssessed with me you are! That's soooo crazy, like you. Well I can't leave you disappointed, Humour me. Let's start dating then!"

It even took you a minute or so to understood his bullshit way of just saying he liked you back.

Crawling into class with him, both of you take your seats behind aone's massive frame. You apologize to the frost giant, but your apology was rather piled up at this point.

With the time passing, and the passing of morning bread underneath the table, break time comes where you just apologize to aone for once again covering for the 2/3 of the group. When the free period gives you the time to finally get to your spot, you invite nobu and drag your complaining hazlenut boy there. Nobu sets up the cloths for you to sit on, kenji comes back with the drinks and from chatting with the girls from the other class, and set up the food with ease. When he comes over you smile at him reaching for your drink, "Who was that?" you question but more likely just asking for a question's sake. "Ah the girls were just asking about the next time. Shall we?" he drives the attention back to the food where you all say your prayers.

"Thank you for the food" kenji thanks. "Thank you for the food" You thank. "Thank you for the food" Nobu thanks. "Thank you for the food" Kogane thanks.

Wait kogane? "Oi! Get your own damn food!" The whining boy points to the newly arrived blonde. "But Y/N-chan's food is too good!" "Yeah, obviously, but Y/N's food is also my food so buzz off"

Despite futakuchi's protests, you hand the rice ball over to kogane. You bring out another for your partner to settle his steaming head. A couple of minutes of chatter and aone huffing about the train problem, you suddenly grow a craving for some curry.

"Kenji, curry for dinner later?" he glances over at you, thinks to himself and makes a note on his phone. "Shopping later, then?" almost asking you. With your nod, you two go back to the group's banter.

Curry was somewhat a special dish for both of you even if it didn't seem like much. You still remember both of your awkward demeanors as you met up for your first date. Gosh you both had no sense of fashion. You showed up in an awkward get up, but you would never forget the dumb shirt futakuchi wore to look cool. Sleeveless and all. Considering both of you were only first years back then, all you two could really afford was the family diner near his place. Both of you fidgeting, a cat catching your tongues even when the lady at the front desk was asking you where you two would like to sit. Your faces too hot and too evident of embarrassment to even face each other. It was funny how your fingers fumbled to reach for each other's hand under the table. You mispronounce his name a few times, and his stomach churned at the curry plus milkshake combo he had. Why did he ever think that was a cute idea?

You two seperately thought both of you would surely leave the other because of this. Strangely enough, this dumbass never let you go. Strangely enough, he never let this dumbass go too.

Your hands both linking like cogs, he rests his head on your lap along with kogane sleeping at your shoulder. Sometimes you thought that the blonde boy was just your adopted kid, he synced in with you and your bully-of-a-boyfriend quite nicely. Scrolling through his phone, nobu signs to you about the incoming summer festival plans. You three always going together since you were little. With the gentle giant even being the one to choose which flowers to put in your hair when your mother decorated it. Futakuchi being the one to decide what kind of games the three of you would go to. It was your favorite memory of them.

Yellow tinted stones, loud crowds and jingling of bells, an attention grabbing stall every once in a while. Oh how you loved your second year summer festival with all 3 of them. The same year you first started inviting your boyfriend to sleep over at your place. He hates to admit it but he knew you caught him studying how to dress you in a yakuta the few days before the event. If you hadn't fallen in love with him before that, you surely did afterwards. The day of the festival rolls with you and him even wearing matching clothes, a splash of wonderfully coordinating colours. Kogane was the only one wearing a more casual outfit really. With nobu tracking behind you, all of you climb up the hill nearby for the fireworks. Dazzling into their eyes. The picture of that night bore into your mind while you inform your bestfriend of the plans.

"We should get candied apples too! They're the best treat-" you were interupted by the sudden awakening of the two. "WHAT?! Noooo... Y/N-chan, takoyakis are the best!" "Now I know that's not true because you can't have a festival without the yakisoba..." kenji's annoyed voice ready to start a fight. As the two bicker, you glance over the sweet one agreeing with your sentiment of candied apples.

The bickering, and mundaness of the discussion had left you with a sense of contentment. Ever satisfied to be so young to simply argue over yakisoba and takoyaki. Ever so young to simply discuss curry and festivals. This was the epitomes of your youth. The ever radiant light of the sun always followed the young.

But the sun would not follow you for long. As the overzealous moon grabs one's attention, the same goes for such promiscuous women.

You squeez and stiffen at his collared jersey, a piece of clothing you had once adored and taken care of. Practically clawing out his clothing from the cabinet, you hear his please in the living space. "What the fuck is going on with you? Babe, tell me please" "You, that's whats fucking going on." Clothes and sentimentals being thrown at him from across the room. Your anger high comes down after a bit of screaming and throwing, with your knees giving up sitting you down. "What happened? Tell me..." His eyes were true and his voice was sincere. "I know you're fucking her." it was supposed to be a whisper but it had sounded in the room as a sharp hiss at him. His eyes widen and taking a few steps back he sighs deeply. "I-im...Im sorry..." 'Dont...just leave. Now."

Seeing his way out, his back on display before the creak of the door erases him. He hadn't explained or given you any room to ever doubt what he did. He simply gave up. You knew behind that broad back, he wanted to say something. He wanted to dispute every claim you maid but he had enough dignity to stand back when he needed to. And as that rusty bolted door closes, your highschool love, your youthful memory was simply a memory to look back on now.

[drowsydregon]

I know I don't interact much but I wanted to say that I love your blog! You post great stuff about the show, and your ocs are a lot of fun! Do you mind sharing a few things about all your ocs? Hope you have a great day!

first of all tHANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE KIND WORDS !!!!!! QwQ

it means a lot that ppl rly like my silly thoughts and ideas !! aaA

but uh

to answer your question, i can indeed give you some stuffs abt my ocs (though i won't go too much into detail bc i will eventually finish up my fanseason. then all shall be reveALED)

ofc my main gals are Yuuki and Mei Mitsukaru -- the "'karu sisters"

Yuuki is a sorceress in her early 20's who's the leader of a serpentine tribe of mages called the "haven rattlers." She's tender, charismatic, and a bit clingy. At some point she worked for Master Chen and trained in dark magic under Clouse. Her specialty magic is crystaline, and nowadays she tries to avoid dark magic at all costs. She is deeply smitten with Morro. (And vice versa!) ((covenwind / windchimeshipping)) She also has an owl familiar named Owlfonzo !!

Mei is Yuuki's little sister. She's a 10yr old sorceress and the new self-proclaimed queen of the Ghost Warriors. After extremely unfortunate chain of events, she was banished to the Cursed Realm, being separated from her sister and parents for about a decade (hence the age gap between the sisters). She's impulsive, sarcastic, and carefree spirit. She wields her grandmother's staff and is able to use it as a battleaxe using magic. Her specialty magic is nature, though she uses a dark variant. She absolutely despises Morro and would gladly throw him off a cliff.

The Haven Rattlers tend to just be bg charas, but there are a couple side charas that come into play. Veera and Crystal.

Veera is a young haven constrictai who is Yuuki's personal student in magic. She's about 10yrs old, and is about as calm and collected as ten yr olds come. Veera and Mei are eventually a thing. (dumb lesbian kiddo love) ((blossomshipping))

Crystal is an albino hypnobrai, and is Yuuki's advisor. When Yuuki isn't around, Crystal usually makes sure the island runs smoothly. Her specialty is water magic.

The Haven Dragon (AKA Sir Wigglybutt) is guardian of the former home of the HRs -- Old Haven. Though I mostly consider him Mei's weird flappy dog.

And then outside of the HRs and Karu family, we have Taiga and Madoka. I'll keep them a secret for now ;3c

Aaaand finally we have the next gens - Kieran and Tempest. I don't consider them fully "canon" but it is a concept I like to think about from time to time.

Tempest is Yuuki and Morro's daughter. She practices wind magic and is in her early 20's. She was next in line to be leader of the HRs but stepped down to join the next gen of ninja. She's a bit of the "older sister" of the group, and is a calm, snarky, and genuinely very loving person.

And finally we have Kieran - Yuuki and Morro's adopted serpentine son. He's a haven hypnobrai/venomari mix who consistently chips his right fang by some Mighty Act Of FSM. He's a college student, and is younger sibling to Tempest. He's extremely odd and eccentric, but he loves to make new friends. He will absolutely bring you hot cocoa on a cold day. He's a history nerd and also studies magic (though I haven't decided on a dominant magic type for him.)

[gumnut-logic]

He carried her.

Warning: Virgil/Kayo (though pre-relationship)

-o-o-o-

She was being carried.

The gentle sway of a walk, the brush of tough fabric against her cheek, aftershave. The deep rumble of baritone, urgent.

Virgil.

The name swam to the surface of the confusion.

Safety.

Brother.

What happened? She reached for her memory and found nothing. She had no idea how she came to be in this position.

She opened her eyes, but she couldn’t see. Everything spun. She shut them again as her stomach roiled.

Panic loomed.

“Kayo?” His voice was soft. The walking stopped. “We’re almost there.”

A whimper.

“It’s okay, hon, it’s okay.” There was a brush of a kiss on her forehead. “We’re nearly there.”

Where?

She clung to him, the only familiarity in a sea of confusion.

The walking began again. The gentle sway was lulling. The rumble of his voice, he was talking to her, quietly, words of reassurance. His scent filled her nostrils, his aftershave mixed with sweat and dirt.

Dirt.

Under her fingernails.

The image flickered in her mind and panic came with it.

“Shhh, you’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Another whimper.

His grip tightened.

And then he was laying her gently down on something soft. Her head spun at the change in position and she was swept away.

-o-o-o-

Scott Tracy leant on the door to the infirmary and stared at his younger brother’s hunched back.

Virgil’s yell over the comms, the lack of response from Kayo, the desperate dive of his brother into that ice crevasse...

Virgil was running his hand through his hair, staring at his unconscious sister’s bed. Silently Scott slipped into the room and placed a hand on his shoulder, hoping it would bring some calm. The obvious dumb question.“You okay?”

His brother startled just a little, his brown eyes darting up at him. “I-“ He let a rough breath out and shook his head, looking down and away.

Scott’s lips thinned a moment before he grabbed a chair and sat down beside his best friend. “She’s going to be okay.”

“I know.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.”

There was silence again.

“You were right.” He could barely hear Virgil’s whisper.

“What?”

“You were right.”

“I’m happy that you’ve seen the light, but it would help if you could be more specific.”

“I like Kayo.”

A moment. “Oh.”

“I think I love her.”

“Okay.” A pause. “Does she know?”

“No.”

“So?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay.” He reached out a hand and gripped his brother’s shoulder once again.

“I heard her fall.” Virgil licked his dry lips. “She didn’t answer. And I had to-“

“I know.” Those minutes had been pure hell. Virgil’s frantic yell, his mad scramble down the ice crevasse. They had saved three people today, the two climbers and their sister. “Brains said the belay pin was faulty.”

Virgil turned in his seat, his eyes fiery. “Faulty? I checked all the equipment myself!”

“Hey, it was a manufacturing flaw in the alloy. You couldn’t have known. He’s already sent a report to the manufacturer. We won’t be purchasing from them again.”

Virgil slumped.

“She is going to be okay. She was lucky. She had you.”

“She broke both her ankles.”

“Yes. She was lucky.”

Virgil looked up at him, his eyes fragile.

Whispered. “Yes, she was.”

-o-o-o-

Clarity returned slowly. She was curled on her side on something soft, her head was foggy and a little painful, her body felt heavy. Opening her eyes proved to be a challenge. They stuck together.

“You can do it, honey.” A soft baritone with a smile.

She forced a blink and a blurry blob appeared in front of her. It was bright and she scrunched her eyes shut.

“Oh, hold on a second.” There was the sound of a blind being drawn. Her eyelids dimmed. Movement. Soft footsteps. The bed, it was a bed, moved just slightly. “Now try again.”

She could only do as she was told. Her eyelids opened again and the blurry blob transformed itself into a dark haired, smiling brother. Virgil had his arms on the edge of her bed, his chin on his hands. His brown eyes were filled with his smile. “Hey, beautiful.”

She couldn’t help but return that infectious smile.

“How are you feeling?”

A frown broke her smile. “Headache.”

“Not surprised. That was quite a concussion.”

She reached a hand to her head. “Who hit me?”

“Khumbu Glacier.”

“What?”

He sat up. “How much do you remember?”

She thought back. “We were on Thunderbird Two. Call out to the Himalayas. You and I were going to rappel down...” A frown. “Did I fall?”

“Yes, you did.” His expression was tight.

Another frown. “I-“ She stopped. Her legs were heavy. “Wha-?” Lifting the covers, she reached down...

He caught her questing hand. “You’re going to be okay.”

“What did I do?!”

His expression fell a bit. “You broke both of your ankles, honey. Nothing permanent, I promise.” His hand squeezed hers.

“Both of them?”

An eyebrow arched. “Yeah, you kinda landed on them.”

“Damn.” A thought. “The climbers?”

“Better off than you.”

“How long?”

“Six weeks minimum, plus rehab.”

Her expression must have revealed her thoughts on the matter, because he reached out and touched her face. “Hey, c’mon. It could have been much worse.” And she saw it in his eyes, his fear was blatant.

Grow a spine, Kayo. “I’m fine.”

He frowned at her. “Kay?”

She forced a smile. “I’m good.”

She knew he would have said more, his frown deepening, but at that moment they were interrupted by Alan peering into the room. “Hey, you’re awake!” Her youngest brother literally bounded into the room. “How are you feeling?”

And as more members of their family found their way in, Virgil faded into the background. A presence hovering at a distance. Scott smiled at her, but she saw him look askance at his next youngest brother. Virgil barely shrugged, his arms folded in front of him. She frowned, but Grandma had a bunch of flowers from the garden and Scott was smiling at her. She didn’t see him leave.

-o-o-o-

“I’ve got something for you.”

Virgil was standing in the doorway, a silly grin on his face.

Uh, oh.

She put down the orange juice on the bed table. “What are you up to?”

The grin just got bigger.

His arm was hidden by the door jam...until it wasn’t. He held out something green and fluffy.

“Oh my god.” It was a Thunderbird Two plushy. She stared. “Where did you get that from?”

He walked into the room, his grin still splitting his face. “They’re selling them. I just had to get you one.”

She couldn’t help it, she smirked. “So you got me a Thunderbird Two?”

“Well, yeah, I thought she could keep you company.”

“She?”

“Of course.” And he reached over, gently lifted her arm and snuggled the fluffy toy to her side. “There you go.”

Kayo looked down at the fluffy green furry nose staring up at her, then back at him. “So no Thunderbird Shadows?”

He rolled his eyes and put on a completely put out expression. “Okay, here you go.” And he reached around the door jamb and came back with a fluffy approximation of her beautiful ‘bird.

She reached up and grabbed it out of his hands. “Now that’s more like it.”

His pout was hilarious.

“In that case, I’ll have my ‘bird back.” He reached for fluffy TB2.

“Oh, no you don’t.” And she held onto the fluffy monstrosity. “He’s mine now.”

“He?”

“Of course.” She grinned at him.

The put-upon expression was nearly as hilarious as the pout.

“Okay, then I guess you’ll be wanting the rest of them.” And he managed to produce a Thunderbird One, Three, Four And Five and lined them up all on her bed table. “Though you may have to lock them up. They may wander.” He was grinning again.

“Does Scott know about these?”

“Nope.” Still grinning.

“Oh dear.”

“Yup.”

“I’m probably never going to see them again.”

“Probably not.”

“Well, just as well I have the two important ones.”

“Definitely.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you, Virgil.”

His grin softened to a smile. “Anytime, hon.” And to her astonishment, he backed out of the room and left.

She stared at the empty doorway for a moment. Wha-?

Looking down at the green plushy under her arm, she had the irrational urge to ask it to explain.

“Is that Thunderbird Three?!”

And Alan was suddenly at her bedside. She rolled her eyes. She hadn’t even had a chance to touch it yet.

-o-o-o-

“This is embarrassing?”

“Why?”

Her glare had no effect on Virgil as he helped her out of the bed covers. Fortunately Grandma had been helping her with the female necessities, including earlier into some loose sweats and t-shirt. Unfortunately, Grandma couldn’t carry her down the stairs. “It feels stupid.”

He stopped, staring at her. “This is hardly the first time, I’ve picked you up.”

“I was twelve, Virgil, and we were dancing.”

He was obviously holding back a laugh. “Oh, is that what we were doing?”

She hit him.

“Ow. Your muscle tone has definitely improved since then.” He rubbed his arm.

“So has yours.”

An arched eyebrow. “C’mon, it will be over before you know it.” He offered his arms.

With a sigh, she acquiesced.

He reached around her shoulders, his hand under her arm and clasping her waist, his other arm under her legs. She felt his muscles move as he took her weight. “There, are you comfortable?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. “It will do.”

“You know, I could ask Scott to carry you next time, or Alan.”

He definitely deserved the thawp this time.

“Is this how you treat all your beasts of burden?” He was walking them down the stairs into the kitchen.

“I only have one beast.”

“Hah! Then I guess that makes you the Beauty.”

His grin was obviously making a point of ignoring her glare.

Then they were climbing the stairs to the comms room, his abdominal muscles moving against her hip.

“And here we are.” He turned her slightly so she could see the sofas. Scott grinned at them from the desk. She glared at him too and was just as equally ignored. “Where would you like to sit?”

She waved at a random couch. “There will do.”

A few more steps and he was gently settling her down. On impulse she drew him closer a moment and pecked a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Virgil.”

“Uh, you’re welcome.” Was that a blush? “Anytime.” And he was elevating her plastered feet onto a footrest.

She frowned at him as he sat beside her. The rest of the family flew in from several different directions, each of them greeting her with a grin or a smile as they arrived for the briefing. She didn’t fail to notice that while Virgil seemed absolutely fine throughout the meeting, not once did he look at her for the next forty minutes.

When the briefing ended, he finally turned to her, a small smile on his lips. “M’Lady, may I h’assist you?”

She levelled another glare at him.

“Shall I take that as a yes?”

“I think I would prefer Virgil rather than Parker as my ‘beast of burden’.”

“Your wish is my command.” He bowed at the waist.

She rolled her eyes. “You are such an idiot.”

“Anything for you, m’dear.” His arms were around her again and the world moved. “Where to, oh, gracious one?”

Wrapping her arms once again around her neck, she caught a sudden whiff of his aftershave. A flash, and a memory surfaced. “You carried me?”

“Uh, yeah.”

She tapped his shoulder. “No, no, when I was hurt. You carried me.”

“Yes, I did. Why?”

“I just remembered.” She lay her head against him, once again wrapped in that sense of safety. “Thank you.”

“As I said, anytime, hon.” And he tipped his head so it touched hers. “Anytime.”

She chewed her lip. “Can we go outside? Sit by the pool?”

“Sure. Your wish, my command, yada-yada.”

As he moved towards the stairs, she thwapped him gently again on the shoulder.

Idiot.

-o-o-o-

“Kayo?”

She jumped and her whole body complained. Ugh. What the hell?

“You okay?” Scott’s soft voice was worried.

A blink and she realised she was seated at the situation desk in the comms room. There had been a mission...

Oh, hell, had she fallen asleep? She straightened up, calling up the mission status. Her legs were throbbing.

His hand landed gently on hers. “It’s okay. Mission complete.” He smiled. “And don’t worry, both John and Grandma had their eyes on you.” A smirk. “And no doubt, Virgil.”

“Why? Where is he?” Why wasn’t he here?

“Hey, he’s fine. Just a few bruises. I ordered him to bed.”

She looked at him. “And that worked?”

“His alternative was the infirmary and an ass kicking from you.”

“That would work.”

“That it did.”

“Now, may I offer my assistance to help you to your room?”

She stared at the digital read out on the desk. 4am. That explained the impromptu snooze, she just wasn’t up to par. A sigh. “Yes, thank you.”

Scott was taller than Virgil. He was still in his uniform, and there was the smell of smoke and dirt. She shivered as he lifted her. She draped an arm around his shoulders.

“Sorry about the smell. I thought you’d prefer to be in bed sooner rather than later.”

“Not a concern.”

They didn’t talk as he climbed the stairs to her room. It was obvious he was tired. As he lowered her to her bed, she did have one question. “Did you manage to save all of them?”

His eyes dropped. “No.”

Damn.

“How many?”

“Thirty survived, eleven didn’t.”

Hell.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.”

He made sure she was comfortable and had everything she needed. Being Scott, he fussed somewhat and in the end she ordered him to bed.

He smirked.

She threatened to throw her pillow at him.

“Okay, okay. Contact me if you need anything.”

As if. He was dead on his feet.

“Shower and bed, Scott.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Her Thunderbird Shadow plushie hit him in the head.

“I’m going!” He threw the toy back on to her bed and made a break for it.

She grabbed the plushie before it could fall on the floor. Curling around it, she tried her best not to think of the eleven kids who wouldn’t be returning to their beds tonight.

-o-o-o-

She woke late the next day. She suspected the rest of the house did the same as it was very quiet even at 9am. But then Grandma arrived to help her with her morning routine, and, to her surprise, Gordon.

“Hey, Tin, heard you slept on the desk last night.”

“Ignore him, dear. I just brought him to be a pack mule.”

“Hey, pack horse at least. I have breeding after all.”

Kayo smirked. “You do?”

“Most certainly.” He stuck his nose in the air. “Thoroughbred Tracy all the way.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“I have medals to prove it.”

“More proof of your fish lineage, I would think. Seahorse?”

He considered it. “Nah. Too slow.”

Grandma was staring back and forth between them. “Now I know why I usually ask Virgil, he’s quieter.”

Kayo frowned. “Is he okay?”

Gordon answered. “He just needs his beauty sleep.”

She stared at her second youngest brother. “But he is okay?” She couldn’t remember anything happening to him last night and Scott had said just bruises...

“He’ll be fine.”

“Will be? What about now?” Now she was worried.

Gordon held up his hands. “He’s fine.”

“Scott said he had some bruising.”

“Well, yeah. He’s just sleeping it off.”

She glared at him.

“Kayo, he is fine. I have no doubt that once he wakes up, he will drop in and reassure you. In fact, I will make sure he does. Okay?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Okay.”

His eyes widened just a little. “Good, because you are scary.”

His grandmother poked him in the ribs. “Probably because she has been stuck in that bed for the last five hours. Move it, kiddo, and help your sister.���

Gordon gulped. “That means I need to get closer.”

“Move it.”

“Tell Alan to look after my fish.” His exaggeration of his fear of her was both amusing and annoying. Pretty much the definition of Gordon.

Her fishy brother was smaller than his two eldest, but his upper body strength was toned solidly from many hours of swimming. He was also very careful with her. This was a man who had known injury. His movements were fluid and precise.

The fact he had to carry her to the bathroom was a fact she chose to ignore. Though she did remember doing something similar for him on one or two occasions. He was respectful and kept his jokes out of that particular room.

With Grandma’s help she managed her morning ablutions.

“Brains has a surprise for you.” Gordon was obviously excited about something.

She finished brushing her hair, quickly tying it back and out of the way. “He does?”

“Are you ready, dear?”

“Yes, thank you, Grandma.” She looked up at her brother and smiled just a little. “And thank you, too, Gordon.”

“Does this mean you won’t feed me to your plushies?”

He was hit in the head with Thunderbird Shadow.

A knock on the door forestalled any response her brother might have had and Grandma let in Brains, pushing a hover chair.

“K-Kayo, sorry a-about the delay. I-I needed to modify it to manage the s-stairs and the hangars.”

She stared at the chair. He had obviously modified it much more than that. It was the sleekest hover chair she had ever seen. It had even been trimmed in silver and black and branded down its sides were the words ‘Thunderbird imPatient’.

“Don’t tell me you strapped a rocket to it?” Gordon managed to say it before she did.

Brains looked thoughtful. “V-Virgil didn’t think that was a very g-good idea.” He frowned. “Or the VTOL for that m-matter.”

Kayo’s eyes widened. Was he serious?

This was their brilliant engineer. Of course, he was.

“Wow, thank you, Brains.” She couldn’t help but stare at the machine.

Moments later Gordon had her settled in the seat and she strapped herself in. Her legs were lifted and supported in front of her, and as Brains ran through the controls and capabilities, she realised exactly what this was.

It was freedom.

-o-o-o-

It was two days before she saw Virgil again. And that was only because she cornered Scott and Gordon and threatened to throttle them both. Scott’s expression was amusing, caught somewhere between commander and brother-to-Medusa. Gordon was simple, he was just terrified and broke first.

“He’s in the infirmary.”

Scott glared at him.

“What? Why? You said he was okay.”

Her eldest brother was defensive. “He is! Just some bruising. He didn’t want to worry you.”

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Uh, that was the other reason.” Scott’s tone was definitely slipping into the commander range. “He has the right to confidentiality, Kayo.”

“He’s hiding from me?”

“Kinda.”

Scott glared at his brother. “Shut up, Gordon.”

“What exactly happened?” At this rate she was going to kill three out of five of her brothers.

The commander sat down behind the desk, his professional facade falling into place. She didn’t like the change, but realised why moments later.

“The last eleven children were in the gym. Virgil was making his way to them when the roof collapsed. Fortunately his exo-suit and helmet took most of the impact. The children were not as fortunate.”

She swallowed. “His injuries?”

“As I said, bruising. Black eye, bruised ribs. Sprained wrist.”

“How did he get a black eye when he was wearing his helmet?”

Scott swallowed before looking her in the eye. “A piece of rebar breached his helmet.”

She stared at him.

Scott reached out and touched her arm. “Please, Kayo, he just needs a little time.”

“I need to see him.”

“Kayo, please-“

“He doesn’t even need to be awake. He doesn’t need to know. I just need to see him.”

Caught between siblings, she could see the cogs of decision spinning behind his eyes. “Okay. But he can never know.”

“He won’t.”

Two hours later, Scott came to her room and lifted her into his arms. Without a word, he carried her down the corridor to the infirmary. Ever so quietly, he slipped into the room where a huddled form lay on the partly elevated bed. It was dim, but she could clearly see her brother. The right side of his face was horribly swollen, his eye almost hidden and black. A butterfly bandage dressed a gash on the very edge of his eye socket.

Oh so close. She bit her lip.

“You and I are going to have words, Scott.”

“Shit.” The word was breathed out by the man carrying her.

One brown eye, dark in the dim light, was staring up at both of them. “Hey, Kayo.”

“Virgil.” She held everything in.

That eye blinked slowly. “Looks that bad, huh?” And he levered himself upright, obviously with some difficulty.

“Damn it, Virgil, lie down.” Scott was frowning again.

“I’m fine.” His arm curled around his ribs.

“Please put me down, Scott.”

He looked at her as if he had forgotten she was in his arms, before gently, if hurriedly, depositing her in the empty chair beside the bed. A place she had no doubt, he had been spending some of his time.

“We’re a great pair now, aren’t we?”And the idiot was smirking at her.

She looked up at Scott. “Could I have a moment with him, please?”

He inevitably glanced askance at Virgil, who waved him out of the room. “Go.”

Their eldest brother threw up his hands and stalked out.

And then they were alone.

“Sorry.” She knew that would be the first word out of his mouth.

“For what?”

“For not being there.”

“Wrong answer.”

“What?”

“Why are you hiding from me?”

“I’m not hiding.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Uh, injury.” He pointed to his eye.

“Bullshit.”

Unbelievably he tried to raise his eyebrow and winced.

She rolled her eyes. “Why didn’t you want me to know?”

“Didn’t want you to worry.”

“I worried anyway. I haven’t seen you for two days.”

“I’ve been busy?”

“Virgil you have been with me through this from the day it happened. Did you think I wouldn’t notice if you suddenly disappeared?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t really want you to see me like this.”

“What? Why? I’ve seen you passed out drunk on the front lawn. I’ve seen you vomit in the car. Hell, there was the time Gordon shaved off your eyebrows and half your hair. Why is this any different?”

Another shrug, but he didn’t say anything further.

There was something more to this, she just didn’t know what. Perhaps another angle.

“Thank you for Thunderbird imPatient.”

He looked up, a half smile crooked on his face. “She’s cool isn’t she.”

“Yes, he is.” And it was her turn to smirk at his strangled expression. “Nice paintwork.”

The half smile returned.

She called the chair on her wrist comm.He watched his eye as it followed her actions. “Wanna ride?”

“Uh, no, not yet. Bruised ribs.”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“I’ve had worse.”

There was silence for a moment and she simply looked at him, studying his features, his posture. The hum of the hoverchair arriving was their only interruption.

“You need to rest. I’m missing my ‘beast of burden’.”

“You don’t need me anymore, you have TBimP.”

She pinned him with her eyes. “I will always need you, Virgil Tracy.”

He actually flinched backwards, wincing as he hurt his ribs again.

She frowned, reaching out a hand to touch his knee. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” He wilted. “Just tired.”

What the hell?

“Virgil?”

“Kayo, please, I-I just need some time.”

Now really worried. “Okay.”

He managed another half smile, before finally, and awkwardly, lowering himself back down on the bed. She didn’t miss his stifled groan.

“Sorry.”

She gripped his arm. “Get some rest.”

“Yes, ma’am. Your wish is my command.”

“I’d hit you, but I might actually hurt you.”

A snort. “Does that mean I win?”

“No, you’ve just banked for your future.”

“Great.”

“Now get better. I don’t like Scott’s aftershave.”

“What?!”

And she grinned.

-o-o-o-

It was late evening when Scott found Virgil on the balcony that night. It was a familiar sight. His brother stood, eyes closed, feet planted shoulder width apart, hands clasped behind him.

Feeling the breeze.

Scott stepped up beside him. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” He didn’t open his eyes. “Why did you tell her?”

“She needed to know.”

“Why?”

“She was worried about you.”

Virgil sighed.

“Honestly, Virg, I don’t think she cares what you look like.”

He didn’t need to look at his brother to feel the glare shot at him. “You think this was all for vanity?”

Scott turned to face his brother, somewhat annoyed. “Well, Virgil, what is your reason? Because you’ve been far from clear to anyone.”

Virgil shifted from one foot to the other. “I hate this.”

“Hate what?”

“Being incapable.”

A frown. “Incapable of what?” It was like pulling teeth.

“Incapable of being able to help her!”

“Kayo?”

“No, the frickin’ tooth fairy. Who do you think?”

Scott blinked. “Really?”

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

“Kayo can kick your ass. She doesn’t need anyone’s help.”

“Exactly. It was kind of nice to be useful to her, and now I’m useless.”

“Are you nuts?”

Virgil stared at him.

“All this moping, hiding in the infirmary for two days - and don’t you doubt that I’ll use Kayo to get your ass in there if I need to - all because you don’t feel useful?”

His brother half-shrugged. “Never said I was perfect.”

“Never said you were stupid either.”

“Hey!”

“Kayo is not going to care if you are useful or not, anymore than I would.”

“It is frustrating! She needs help and I can’t help her. And I have to watch-“

“You’re jealous?! Are you kidding me?”

“Well, not really, but it is annoying.”

“Do you realise you sound just like Alan when he is whining because he can’t get his own way?”

“Hey!”

“You’re the one who is doing it.” He sighed. Be the strong one. Younger brothers need it...though not usually this one. He put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Virg, she already loves you.”

“Yeah, as a brother.”

“That is more of headstart than most get. She’s already seen you at your worst. Remember your neo-punk era?”

Virgil groaned.

“Exactly. She’s family. She couldn’t run screaming anymore than the rest of us could.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled. “Just be yourself, Virg. And when the right moment comes, make a move.”

His brother looked at him sideways. “Sage advice?”

“I’m your big brother, I’m not that ancient.”

“Give it time.”

“I’d cuff the back of your head, but I might rattle something loose in there.” His hand shifted until his arm was around his brother’s shoulder. “She’s going to be quite happy just to have your company. She always has. You don’t need to be carting her around the house in those massive arms of yours.”

“Now who’s jealous?”

“No-one. She’s not as light as she looks.”

“Now you’re kidding me.”

“Uh, no, muscle is heavy and she has her fair share.”

“Sounds like you need to make some more of your own.”

“I’m quite happy with my physique, thank you very much. Not all of us have to be built for heavy lifting. My flight packs can only take so much weight.”

“Excuses, excuses.”

“A couple of weeks and you should be back to being her pack mule, don’t worry. In the meantime, take advantage of the fact both of you are on downtime and have some fun.” He shrugged. “Take her on a picnic or something.”

Virgil was staring at him.

“And stop being an idiot. She might start thinking you have a screw looser than she thought.”

“Thank you for your vote of confidence, big brother.”

“That’s what we’re for, slapping you when you need it.”

“I’ll remember to tell John that one.”

“Don’t worry, I already have. Just didn’t think I’d need to tell you.”

“You are on a roll tonight, aren’t you.”

“It appears so.”

Virgil turned to face him, placing both his big hands on Scott’s shoulders. “Thank you, big brother, for being both big and my brother.”

Scott smirked. “You are welcome.”

“Though not as big as some.”

The smirk disappeared.

“Oh, and Kayo hates your aftershave.”

And with that Virgil grinned, turned and walked back into the lounge.

“What? What’s wrong with my aftershave?”

Virgil just chuckled and waved his hand vaguely in his direction as he left the room.

-o-o-o-

He surprised her by appearing at her door two days later, first thing in the morning. “I’m thinking of taking a walk. Want to come?”

His face was till a mess and it hurt to look at him, but it was getter better, ever so slowly.

“Sure. Give me a moment and I’ll get the chair.”

Both his hands clenched. Even his right one, restrained by its wrist brace.

What? He didn’t like the chair?

It whizzed past him, but he didn’t react. She levered herself off the bed, dragging her casts into position. Just in the periphery of her vision she saw him take a step forward, but stop.

“Are you alright?”

He straightened. “Fine. You?”

She grit her teeth. “Totally fine.”

He led her down to the pool and off on to the coastal path. It was an easy walk with few gradients, to the point that the boys had labelled it the Invalid Path as it was usually the only one they could manage after a major injury.

It was also the first step back to health.

It ran all along the coast of the island with pleasant views of the beaches and the offshore coral reefs. She knew it was one of Virgil’s favourites. She had caught him painting various scapes along its length over the years.

She let him set the pace, her chair humming along beside him. She also let him choose the conversation.

“How are your ankles?”

“That is not a line you hear many men ask a woman.”

He snorted softly. “Well, normally I wouldn’t have to ask as I could quite amply see your fine ankles. Unfortunately, their slender elegance is currently obscured by several layers of plaster of Paris.” He half-frowned down looking at them. “Which appear to be still spotless after two weeks. How on Earth did you manage that with Gordon in the house?”

She simply looked at him.

“Okay, you have a point.” He tilted his head to one side. “Remind me to hire you as my bodyguard next time I break a bone.”

It was her turn to snort. “My ankles are intermittently painful and itchy. They have been known to make me cranky.”

He took an exaggerated step away. “Should I fear for my life?”

“Not at the moment.” She smiled at him. “Though that may change at any time without notice.”

An arched eyebrow. “Note taken.”

They walked on further for some time without talking. The path wandered past Thunderbird Two’s runway, through the palm trees and around the bluff created by mountain that housed TB2. The coastline beyond was totally wild and untamed. She heard him draw in a deep breath as they reached the top of a short cliff. The wind was coming off the ocean and it caught his hair, playing with it and she realised that he had no product in it. It was flopping onto his forehead.

“Feel that?”

“Feel what?”

“The wind.”

And to her surprise he closed his eyes, held up his arms and turned into the wind. It streamed his hair, his shirt, the flannel flapping in the strong breeze.

She raised one hand and let the wind blow through her fingers.

“Feel the Earth breathe.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything.

He stood there for a moment totally absorbed, his fingers twitching against the breeze.

She found she wanted to touch him with no idea why.

But the moment passed and he was turning to look at her, a bright smile attempting to form on his broken face. “Try it.”

“What?” She stared at him.

“I want to show it to you.”

“Okay.” A little hesitant.

He beckoned her forward, so she moved into position where he had been been moments before.

Standing behind her, he gently lifted her arms up until they were perpendicular to her body, and spread her fingers wide. His breath was on her ear. “Now close your eyes and feel the planet breathing.”

She did as he asked.

The wind caressed her face, slipped between her fingers and played with her hair. She felt his fingers touching her gently as he slipped off her hair tie, letting the wind catch the strands of her hair, let it flow through her.

She took in a breath, that same cool air now caressing her lungs.

The world breathed around her.

It was exhilarating.

She held the moment.

And opened her eyes.

To find him crouched beside her, grinning like a loon.

“Did you feel it?”

“Yes.”

“That wind has been blowing for millions of years. Those waves on the shore have travelled halfway around the world through an ocean that is that same millions of years old. This moment exists only now, yet forever.”

She stared at him.

“Why?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Why do you do that?”

A shrug. “It feels good? It grounds me? Perhaps it helps pale the world’s troubles into insignificance.” He tilted his head to the undamaged side. “It helps.” He looked down at her hair tie as his fingers played with it. “I just thought it might help you, too.”

And she realised he was sharing something important with her. She imagined him trying to explain the concept to any of his brothers. Maybe John might understand and at a stretch Scott, but this was artistic Virgil to the core. The same piano playing, paint throwing creative, standing on a cliff and interpreting the world around him.

Honestly, she was with Scott on this, but it meant a great deal that he trusted her enough to share something that was so obviously important to him. “It is beautiful, Virgil.”

His smile was worth it.

-o-o-o-

Time passed as it always does and injuries healed. First Virgil’s face and his ribs. It took a few weeks, but he was eventually able to replace Gordon in assisting his sister. He was quite happy to hear that he was a welcome return. Apparently Gordon was great in small doses only. He once again had the opportunity of Kayo’s arms around his neck, her head tucked into his shoulder.

They did take advantage of the time off, and there was a picnic, but Alan and Gordon party crashed two minutes in, followed by Grandma with a stash of cookies. It went downhill after that. There were even ants and rain.

But there were some evenings of simply talking. They had always held a good conversation, despite their different interests. Perhaps it was because of those different interests that their conversations were so in-depth. She truly seemed to respect his ideas and points of view. As for him, he found her fascinating. Her strategic thinking rivalled his engineering skills and between them they were a force to contend with.

They were a notorious team in online gaming and somewhat feared across the net. Alan was quite proud of them.

So time passed, most of it pleasantly, later speckled with Virgil taking on his usual duties with IR. And soon Kayo had her casts cut off (still clean except for one little sketch of Thunderbird Shadow just below her left knee and a red flower on her right ankle - the first done on request by Virgil, the second unknown, but suspect Virgil).

Kayo powered through her rehab, and before long, his sister was sliding back into her own duties with IR. And while he missed helping her around the house, it was good to have her back and happy doing what she loved.

And if he returned to his room late one night and found a Thunderbird Shadow plushie on his bed, he never mentioned it to anyone.

Several months later after throwing himself from a train to save a toddler, he never mentioned hugging it late at night when it all became too much.

Nor how it had made the voyage from his room to the infirmary.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[christinesficrecs]

This trainwreck of a post is dedicated to oodball-faerietales for being a kind and generous soul. You are appreciated always. 💖

Every single one of these fics is a gift which I have opened multiple times and enjoyed them every time! I did not include any fics I’ve already mentioned this year and it was SUPER hard! But you can find more favorites here. 

Wait by cutloosemcgoose | 23.4K | Explicit

Sitting on his couch, staring at the wall, it feels like Derek is watching his whole, miserable, lonely life flash before his eyes. He’s twenty four and he’s alone. No family, no friends, no real pack. He’s six days away from spending one of the most family-oriented holidays of the year trying to avoid any human interaction. If anyone could see him right now, they would tell him he looks pathetic. If Laura could see him right now, she would probably beat the crap of him and then tell him he’s a loser.

I am a HUGE fan of the woke up married trope but this fic is so much more than that!!! I should probably say that I wasn’t that impressed with the movie The Family Man but this AU is 20 times better!!! So even if you don’t care for Nick Cage or kid fics, this fic is still worth a read. Why you say?!?!! Stiles is THE perfect husband through and through. He is EVERYTHING Derek deserves and so much more! Also, I was just chatting up @dearericbittle about how much I love a great epilogue:

“Are you ready?”

“Jesus, Derek,” Stiles says, turning around so quickly that his foot catches on the rug and he almost goes flying. “You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding, it’s bad luck.”

Derek rolls his eyes at Stiles and they stare at each other for a second, wordless, before Stiles cracks up.

“Yeah, I know,” he says. Derek used to think that Stiles was mildly psychic, maybe an empath or something because of the spark, but he’s since realized that Stiles just knows him—knows all of them—so well that’s it scary and a little out-of-this-world.

“Are you ready?” he asks again. Stiles straightens the lapels of his tux, frowns down at it.

“I feel really silly wearing something so fancy to be married by an Elvis impersonator, I’d just like to say.”

“Write your congressman,” Derek advises. “Come on, we gotta go.”

Big Days by crazyassmurdererwall ( smartalli) | 9.6K

It’s an impulse really, inviting Derek to spend Thanksgiving with him and his dad. The Sheriff. Who once arrested him. It’ll be fine. Stiles is sure it’ll be fine.

This is pure gold. EVERY single thing about this fic is a gift! 

“I might have invited someone to spend Thanksgiving with us.”

He lifts one eyebrow. “You might have?”

“Yeah, no. I absolutely did.”

He may as well own up to it. Besides he’s not sorry he did, he’s just sorry he has to have this decidedly awkward conversation.

“Okay…” John says slowly. “And do I know this person?”

“You do.” Stiles nods back, slowly. “Sort of.”

“Sort of.” His hand grasps the edge of the counter as he says, with a saintly patience born only out of years of being Stiles’ dad, “Does this person have a name?”

“They do.”

“Excellent. And their name would be…?”

Saturday Night At The Movies by aussiebee | 7.3K | Explicit

After running into Stiles at the late night movies, Derek realises just how badly Stiles is handling the post-nogitsune fallout. He knows the feeling.

Derek healing post-nogitsune Stiles with saturday night movie dates is perfect! 

Derek didn’t see much of Stiles in the days after that, but it was hard to be disappointed about it when he drove past the café on Fourth St and saw Stiles and Scott sitting inside, talking over coffee, or when he came out of the bank diagonally opposite the sheriff’s station to see Stiles and his dad sitting on the bench beneath the tree outside of it eating lunch together, both of them looking lighter than they had in months.

But then Saturday arrived again, and Stiles was letting himself into the loft, settling in against Derek’s side in his customary spot, bogarting the remote. “Spaceballs is on in twenty minutes,” he said, smelling of nerves and hope.

“I’m so excited I couldn’t hold my oil,” Derek quoted, making Stiles chuckle, the sound light and at ease.

“May the Schwartz be with you,” he responded gravely, then leaned into Derek and snuggled up close when Derek lifted an arm to drape around his shoulders.

A Walk in the Clouds by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 13.9K

The one set during WWII where Stiles is a pregnant grad student and Derek is a PTSD riddled soldier, both of them looking for a better life.

I love crossovers and AUs. Jill did such a great job with this film reboot!! 

Mieczysław couldn’t help the small smile on his lips. “You can call me Stiles,” he offered.

Derek sighed. “Stiles is certainly different than Mischief,” he stated.

“A nickname,” Stiles replied.

“Well, Stiles,” Derek started. “What if you brought home a husband?”

Stiles looked confused by Derek’s suggestion. “How could I do that? There is no one—”

“There’s me,” Derek replied.

“I— I couldn’t ask that of you,” Stiles began. “I already ruined your trip to San Francisco.”

“Maybe I was meant to be here,” Derek offered. “There seems to be a reason for me bumping into you on the train—exchanging our tickets. Getting kicked off the bus.”

“Those were all my fault,” Stiles dejectedly replied.

Derek shook his head. “Or it was fate knowing that you needed a husband for a day.”

Call Me (Cliché) by SomewheresSword | 84.6K | Mature

When the sheriff's sister ends up in a wheelchair for the duration of summer, Stiles' dreams of three months full of pack bonding, late-night video games and bro-time with Scott come crashing down. He's temporarily relocated to Redford, a three hour drive away, and he can already tell he won't be getting many visitors.

Sure the pack will forget about him while he's gone, Stiles is determined to make the most of his summer of isolation, training his body and mind - and his magic - so he can come back with a bang, and maybe catch a certain Sourwolf's eye.

Then Derek shows up at his window one night with a flimsy excuse about needing research done. Suddenly, his summer away is looking a whole lot more interesting.

When I was a young fangirl there was a series called Ever Fallen In Love With Someone. This is not that fic but the initial plot is similiar especially with the S2 vibe which gives me all the feels! 

“So, there’s this guy,” he began, anxiously reaching for a cookie and nibbling at the edge. Hannah nodded in a wordless ‘go on’ motion. “He’s… older. Dad wouldn’t like it. Or him.” Very firmly didn’t like him, as a matter of fact. Hannah’s grin widened.

“Ooh, a bad boy?” Stiles nodded — that was a bit of an understatement. “Sexy. Tell me about him.”

“He’s got these really dumb, scowly eyebrows that are about ninety percent of his facial expressions and at least fifty percent of those expressions threaten murder,” he said, the words coming before he could think to stop himself. “But he’s such a marshmallow and he doesn’t seem to realise that I can’t take him seriously anymore because I know he’s got all of the emotions. He’s so damn overprotective and sweet and he pretends like he doesn’t care about anything but it’s all lies and I just wanna give him a hug so bad because I honestly don’t know the last time someone hugged him for real.”

Tell Me, So I Know by TroubleIWant | 7.4K | Mature

It took years for Derek to finally confront the way he felt about Stiles, and even after he figured it out he could only explain in Spanish. It took them two years more to get to where they were now. Only with neither of them quite willing to commit, where exactly is that, anyways?

Well, for Stiles it’s a deserted stretch of road behind the Hale house, half trapped in a car wreck after being abducted by hunters. Frankly, he could really use Derek’s help if he’s going to get out of this alive. Mates are supposed to be able to tell when the other is in pain, right? As Derek would probably say, 'querido, no.'

Or, a love story in two parts... and two languages.

I love everything about this fic. It’s hot and beautiful with mates and polyglot Derek. So perfect! 

He trails off, knowing he can’t say amor in the next line without Stiles realizing exactly the sort of thing he’s being told.

“Holy hell,” Stiles rasps, his voice heavy with lust. Even in the low light Derek can see the pulse in his neck, the rabbit-fast tick confirming exactly how attractive Stiles finds his bilingual skills. “What was that?”

Derek shrugs. “Just something I memorized once. It reminds me of you.”

“What’s it mean?”

“It’s a parable about a sheep who pesters a wolf with too many questions and gets eaten for being so annoying.”

“Liar,” Stiles says with a smirk, but he leans back in his chair and doesn’t press the issue for the rest of the meal.

[iwantitiwriteit]

Slow Burn: Act I - Part 5

The Lip Sync Battle 

Pairing: Chris Evans x Famous!Reader

Summary: Growing tensions between you and Chris overflow in the most musical of battles.

Warnings: Profanity, drunken silliness

Notes: Oh my fucking gosh, I fucking finished it! This part was a BEAST to write! It’s hella long so it’ll be in two posts. Before you dive in, set the mood with the moodboard + music specially curated to go with this part! Read the previous part here.

“How about this one?”

“No, not neon enough!”

“Ok…” you hold up another top option, “this one?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Alright. This?“

“Uh—”

“Uggggghhhhh!!!” It’s been 45 minutes of trying to decide on an outfit and your patience is running thin. “I’m this close,” you put up a microscopic amount of space between your pointer finger and thumb, “THIS CLOSE to leaving in my pajamas. Don’t think I won’t do it!”

Your older sister, Lynn, laughs at your dramatics from her spot on the end of your bed in her guestroom. “Oooo won’t the paps love that! I just want to make sure you slay tonight! You never know what Hottie McDotties might be in there…”

You scoff, “I’m trying to be low key tonight and not draw any attention to myself. Tonight is not about me.” You look over to your sister who is distractedly sorting through the pile of clothes that’s accumulated on the bed. “Do you hear me?” 

“I hear what you're saying… I just don’t care. Now c’mon, let’s find you something sexy! I know we’re close!” You and Lynn turn back to your almost empty closet one last time. “What about that furry, hot pink thing?”

“Oh, you mean the jacket I impulse bought with the birthday boy?” You laugh thinking back to that day. It was the day you first met Scott before filming. We were only supposed to go out for lunch, and damn near bought out the whole plaza!

“Yeah, that one! That could be cute.”

“With my black, skin tight leather pants…”

“Your black, sheer and lacy corset top…”

“And the black knee highs to top it off!” You two say simultaneously making you giggle like school girls. You settle into a comfortable silence as you pull out the pieces of your outfit.

“I missed this— these moments with you, big sis. Laughing, being silly— “

“Talking about boys,” she finishes for you. You roll your eyes, but smile in agreement as Lynn continues. “Me too… god, why’d we both have to be successful?” she says mockingly, making you both laugh again. 

“Honestly, the real question is why'd you have to move to Boston?” You asked a lot less like an inquiring adult and more like a pouting toddler. 

It’s Lynn’s turn to roll her eyes as she sighs deeply. “You sound like dad.”  

“You’ve got some nerve,” she starts in a playful tone. “You’re literally the one who is never in one city for more than a day. You being here for these months is unprecedented.” It’s true; your touring schedule made it where you’d been any- and everywhere, except with family as of late.

“Now who sounds like dad.” 

“Sorry, but you opened yourself up for it!”

You huff out a sigh, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Lynn hopped up from the bed and headed for the door, “Uh-huh. I’m gonna warm up the car. Be down in 20.”

“Sure, I can do that.”

“I wasn’t asking. I was instructing.”

“And I oop— she said she’s being a big sister tonight!” you laughed out as you turned around to start getting dressed, hair and makeup already done. Lynn began to leave the room, rolling her eyes at you not taking her seriously. 

Suddenly, you were met with a pillow to the back of your head. “What the hell!” The sound of your sister running down the hall and laughing maniacally fill the house. “Hey! Not the curls!” you yelled after her, closing the door.

Just then your phone vibrated with a FaceTime call. You went over to it on the dresser and tapped the screen to answer, the view fixed on the ceiling. The screen filled with a visibly excited Scott, his face a little red from excitement, face a little sweaty from dancing. There was music and loud chatter on his end. Shit! He’s already there! I’m late! “Heeelllooooo? Anybody there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you peek one eye into the frame, “I’m getting dressed. What’s up?”

“What’s up is that everybody is here, and you are not,” he tapped his camera for emphasis. 

“I’ll be there soon. Beauty takes time, ya know!” Each sarcastic word accented with a huff and jump to get in your tight pants. “Whew!”

“What the hell are you doing?” Scott’s eyes peered with genuine curiosity as he sipped a fruity drink.

“I already told you I’m getting dressed.”

“It takes all of that?”

“Listen, as the great philosopher Beyoncé once said, ‘if you don't jump to put jeans on, baby, you don't feel my pain!’ Ok?”

Scott laughed, “OK, yes ma’am!”

“So… who all is there?” Scott knows just what you're asking; if Chris is there. 

Chosing to play dumb and not give you defenitive answer, Scott asks. “Is there anybody in particular you’re looking forward to seeing?”

“More like who I’m not looking forward to seeing…” you mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” You said for a quick cover, Scott giving you a knowing look. “You know I’m looking forward to seeing your ‘Ma’; I love that y’all call her that. It’s so New England!”

Scott chuckles, “She’s looking forward to seeing you too. She calls you her ‘lovely lunch buddy’.” Being close with Scott on set meant that you’d gotten to meet his mom. She’d taken a liking to you after joining you and Scott for lunch one day, and started joining you as often as she could.  

“Awwww, she’s too sweet! I’m gonna let you go now; I gotta finish getting cute for her.”

“Only her?” Scott said with a smirk. Please… Chris could kiss my a—

“Only her. I’ll see you later Scott, and happy birthday for the gazillionth time!”

“Thanks love, see you later!”

With one last fluff of your fro, pop of your lipstick, and once over in the mirror, and you felt ready. Collecting your phone and bag, you headed out for the night.

——————————————————————————

“Sooo....” Lynn turned the down the music as she drove. “How do you feel about possibly seeing you-know-who tonight?” The eyeroll and groan that escaped you were almost involuntary. “What?! It wouldn’t be far fetched; it IS his brother’s birthday.”

“I know, but… do we have to talk about him? I just wanna have a good time tonight,” you whined, throwing your head back on your seat.

“You already know the answer to that.” You let out a long sigh. You hadn’t seen Chris since your game night tell-off a few weeks back, and as much as you tried to forget about him and how you lost your cool, not talking about it was starting to gnaw at you, especially knowing it was only a matter of time before you saw him again. “So, how are we feeling?”

“I…” you took a breath, “I can’t help but feel annoyed! Like, sure I ignored his apology attempts, but he’s the one that passed unfounded judgments on ME. How the hell does that make me a diva? God I hate that word! You know how that word just triggers me,” Lynn nods in response, letting you continue. “And you know what's the most annoying part of it all?”

‘What?”

“Mackie and Scott talk about him incessantly. How smart he is, how caring he is, how fun he is. I mean, I saw it, when we met in New York. But I haven't seen it since. We’re their friends, so I get what they're trying to do, but at some point, like, give it up. It’s obviously not working, nor will it ever.” You let out a sound of frustration, “I don’t know what to do. Do I keep it to myself for the sake of our mutual friendships, or—”

“Be the diva he thinks you are?” You know Lynn is joking, but that’s not a bad idea… I mean, he already thinks it of me, might as well have some fun with it…  Lynn looks over to see you mischievously smiling into the Boston night and she begins to fear for the idea she’s just given you. “Oh God,” she mutters.

You look at her with a goofy grin and shrug. “What?” you try to say innocently.

“C’mon! Don’t actually consider that! Look, you weren’t expecting to see him last time, and that’s probably why it didn’t go so well. But now that you are, you can show up as the composed, level-headed woman I know is somewhere in that thick, thick skull of yours.” You give her no indication that you’ll heed her advice and she can tell. “Fine, just don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she half laughs out.

The car comes to a stop in front of the venue and you check the time. 30 minutes after the invitation time, not TOO bad. You arrived at Majesty’s, a unique, swanky lounge in a trendy area of Boston you’ve never been before. I’ll have to come back and explore sometime. You lean over to give your sister a quick hug, thanking her for dropping you off, then briskly make for the curbside entrance, needing to escape the nippy Boston air. 

Once inside, you’re warmed by neon lights that illuminate the otherwise dim room. To your right is a full-service bar with a plethora of drink options on the wall behind it. Tables staggered up the middle of the room lead to a medium sized dancefloor just before a stage. Velvet curtains hang at the back wall behind a neon sign of the venue's logo. The place is packed. It is Saturday night after all. Music and conversation buzz around you as you scan the room looking for your friends.

“Hi there!” a cheery hostess approaches, her face beat to the gods, making you wish you’d opted for more makeup yourself. “Here with Scott Evans’ party?”

“Yeah! How’d you know?” She gives you a weird look, as if to say, ‘you're joking, right?’. It dawns on you that she knows who you are, hence why she knows who you’re here to see.

“Right…” It’ll be awhile before I get used to people recognizing me.

“HeeeEEeey!! There she is!” You hear Mackie’s voice but aren’t sure where it’s coming from. The hostess points up to a balcony where Mackie is hanging over the railing, flailing his arms to get your attention. 

The hostess escorts you to your party, leading you through the tables on the main floor. The walk there is spent with her talking about how “tonight is like the Oscars” because she’s “never seen so many big stars in one place” but she assures you she “isn’t a creepy fan” and that there’s a no recording policy for guests’ privacy. You smile and nod politely, but you’re not fully listening to her. You’re too in your head wondering if one of those “big stars” is Chris. You’re led up a staircase near the dancefloor that takes you to a roped off VIP balcony area where you can overlook the entire venue.

You give hello’s to the people in the section; some you know from set, but most are Scott’s longtime friends you’ve never met. Feeling a bit shy, you look for a familiar face when Mackie pulls you into a bear hug. “How ya doing, Kid? I’m glad you came out tonight!” You could be reading too far into it, but it feels like he means ‘glad you came despite the possibility Chris will be here.’ You suppress your urge to give a look of disdain and just smile and avert your gaze around the section. You notice that Chris isn’t there, or at least not yet, and you’re not sure if that makes you uneasy or not. Relax girl.

You still haven’t decided on what your disposition towards Chris will be tonight, but needed to choose quickly to get in the right headspace. Before you could process what was happening, you were whisked up into a hug by Lisa. Shit. I can’t be salty to him with his mother here. She’s so sweet. Ugh, guess it’s decided.

“How’s my lovely lunch buddy doing?” she asks with a genuine smile and kind eyes. 

You chuckle at the title she’s given you. “I’m doing great! How are you?”

“Better now that you’re here! Now we can get this party started!” She does a “raise the roof” motion with her hands as she bobs her head causing you to raise your brows. It would be a sure way to embarrass her children, but just makes you laugh. “I should stop before the birthday boy kicks me out,” she laughs out.

“Where is Scott by the way?”

“Oh, he should be around here somewhere...” she scans the section, squinting her eyes with her index finger tapping her upper lip. “There he is!” she points to a corner on the other side. You follow her finger to see a glittery Scott, adorned in a birthday hat and sash. He’s in conversation with a brown-haired woman, the pair laughing and slapping their knees.

As you approach, you notice someone else on the velvet cushion with them, but not at all in the conversation. Sat next to them is Chris, eyes fixed on you, expression blank. It was a matter of time. You tense up, clenching your jaw and holding his gaze.

When you reach them, you embrace Scott. “You look great!” he compliments your outfit and you give a couple poses to show it off.

“Thanks, it’s just a lil somethin’, somethin’ I threw together! Remember this jacket?”

“Yeah! You blew, what? Like, eight hun—”

“Shhh…” you stop him before he could blow up your spot, “Let’s not talk about it. Not the best show of my judgement.” Everyone laughs, except Chris who just scoffs and shakes his head unamused, making your laughter dissipate. 

“We all have those moments of weakness. Hi, I’m Shanna,” she greets with a handshake.

“Yes, she is my youngest, and this is my other son Chris. Chris honey, this is—“

“We’ve met, Ma,” he offers a fake but polite smile, one you just know he wouldn’t have if his mother wasn’t right there.

“Oh, really? When?” There’s a beat of silence that’s only uncomfortable for you and Chris as you both go through your brief, sordid history silently.

“At an industry thing not too long ago,” you offer, not meeting Chris’ eyes.

“Of course, I often forget that that world is even smaller than the real world,” Lisa chuckles. “I hope he was on his best behavior!” Chris looks up at you in panic, a look that says you wouldn’t rat me out to my mom, would you? You know she’s only joking, but the opportunity is too good to pass up on.

“Well, actually,’ you turn to Lisa as she looks at you quizzically, “He’s quite the rascal on the dancefloor; get a couple of Stella’s in him, could out dance the Rockettes!” the group laughs heartily, clearly knowing the truth of your words. Chris laughs nervously but is slightly relieved you didn’t reveal the truth of his behavior towards you since you two met. “But he’s been nothing but a perfect gentleman,” you say, looking at Chris with a facetious smile. He’s clenching his teeth into a pained smile himself.

“Really?” Scott says, ready to call you on your BS, “‘cos game night was kinda… intense. Or am I remembering it wrong?”

“Well, a little trash talk never hurt anybody,” Chris states while sipping his drink. And just like that, a silent pact was made between the two of you; to be cordial for the sake of all involved. Maybe there’s no need for the diva disposition after all…

“Right…” Scott is unconvinced, but is too in party mode to press on. Turning to you now, Scott asks, “How’s the soundtrack stuff coming along?”

“So great! I actually just got the final mix for the song I did with Miguel in New York, and I gotta say, it smells like a hit!”

“Oooo! And I bet it is! You’re literally a hit machine, am I right?” Shanna hits Chris’ arm seeking endorsement from him. He just raises his brows and shrugs as if to say, ‘yeah, sure, whatever’.

Scott isn’t amused by his brother’s disinterest. “Oh, don’t act so unimpressed! She’s literally an award-winning artist! Just the other day, you were literally—”

“Ok, Scott, that’s.... sheesh,” Chris interrupts what sounds like would’ve been a great story. “It’s not that, just that I don’t believe in creating to get awards; I believe you should create for the love of it.”

“I agree,” you chime in. “Even though I put my art out into the world for consumption, it doesn’t make or break me if others applaud it or not. What’s most important is that I do.”

“But you gotta admit it feels good,” Shanna taunts with a grin.

“Sure... but, I don't know… I love what I do so much, I'd do it even  if no one gave a damn. Hell, I have for years! Only recently the recognition started rolling in. And, not to sound self-loathing or anything, but it’s been… a challenge dealing with it all. I kinda miss the days when nobody knew my name.”

Lisa nudges Chris with her elbow, “She sounds like you.” He was thinking the same thing. “How’s filming going? You guys are on Harvard campus, right?”

“Mostly, yeah. It’s kinda funny being back at a college. I kinda forgot what it was like, but memories of those years have just been flooding back.”

“All those fond memories of studying coming back to ya, huh?” Chris digs. Walked into that one. 

Before you could form a petty rebuttal, Mackie called Chris over. Soon after, Shanna and Lisa excuse themselves, leaving you and Scott in the corner. 

Scott checked his phone for the time, “Ooo it’s almost time for my performance!”

“Performance?”

“Yeah there’s lip syncing!”

“Lip syncing? Not karaoke?”

“I asked that too. Apparently the owner was tired of hearing drunk people screech and butcher songs.”

“Understandable. What are you gonna perform?”

“I’m thinking ‘Birthday’ by Selena Gomez, but then there’s also ‘Birthday’ by Katy Perry, so I’m torn.”

“Both great choices! And I’m fully prepared to join you for either, do a little back up, whatever you need.”

“Uh-uh, nope.”

“Whaa— why not?” you put your hands on your hips.

“Because you’re a professional performer. You will get up there and literally intimidate anyone else from giving it a try and having some fun.” A pout was all you could muster as a response. “Oh don’t look at me like that! You know it’s true. Take a backseat tonight, ok?”

“Fine, whatever.” It wasn’t fine, but you did want to keep a low profile tonight. Performing would be the exact opposite of that.

“Thanks, love!” Scott gave you a hug, which you didn’t reciprocate out of feigned annoyance. “So, what the hell was that? With you and Chris?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, hoping he’d drop it.

“Well, I know that you two had some... words, and you’re not super fond of him even though you won’t say it out loud, and—” he paused to collect his confusion. “You know what? Doesn’t matter. Tonight isn’t about you two acting hella weird towards each other. Tonight is about my favorite people coming together and enjoying being around each other. Even if they’re faking it.”

“Yes, exactly!” relieved you don’t have to talk about it any further.

“Wanna know something?” You slightly raise your brows. “The other day, I caught Chris not just listening, but dancing to your music. I mean full on rocking out to it!” Scott laughs.

Your face heats up at the thought, but you play it off like you don’t care. “So?”

“So, you’ve obviously been on his mind. And if I know my brother, I think he wants to make things right but doesn’t know how. He may just be nervous.” You just sigh and look over to Chris and Mackie across the way, roughhousing one another and laughing. If he was nervous, it’s not like you made it any easier with your actions toward him. “He’s a good man. Silly, and sometimes stupid, but good nonetheless.” Maybe we did just get off on the wrong foot…

Some of Scott’s other friends pull him into conversation, and you make your way to the bar to get some libations to sort out your thoughts.

——————————————————————————

“And that’s when I said ‘Sis, what are you doing?’” The group crowded around drinks laughed at Jaden’s story from set, something about how you got stuck under some bleachers or something. Chris wasn’t listening. He’d long tuned out the cringey storyteller. Instead, his attention was with where you were with his mother across the way, deep in conversation. 

You sat with your legs crossed, hands moving around animatedly. Chris looks you up from the heels of your knee highs, to your shiny leather clad thighs, your lacy corset that leaves just enough to the imagination and shows off your collar bone, any man’s subconscious weakness. Goddamn.

“Careful of those wandering eyes,” Chris turned to see Mackie handing him one of the two beers in his hands.

“I don’t remember asking for this.”

“It’s to quench your obvious thirst.” Mackie motions his head in the direction Chris had been staring for the past 15 minutes; in your direction.

Chris rolls his eyes. “I’m not ‘thirsting’ over her,” he takes a sip of the drink, “and I think you’ve been hanging out with those kids on set a little too much.”

“Maybe,” Mackie chuckles, taking a sip himself, “but you know I’m not wrong.”

“She’s not even my type.”

“‘Your type?’ Since when do you have a type?”

“I have a type,” Chris tries to defend himself. “Kind, humorous, humble…”

“She’s literally all of those things!” Chris just offers him a side-eye in response. “Look, I don’t know what happened between New York and now—”

“Cos nothing really happened! So what, we had a good time when we hung out once. Means nothing. Not to me, and obviously not to her.”

“You couldn’t be further from the truth my man.” Chris looks from Mackie to you. “She’ll surprise you if you let her.” I hoped she would.

——————————————————————————

“Ladies and gentleman!” A loud voice, booms from the PA system, commanding everyone’s attention. You, Lisa, and everyone in your section approach the railing to look down to the stage where a spotlight had been cast on the speaker. “Here at Majesty’s, we don’t karaoke. We don’t want to hear you drunk motherfuckers screech!” The crowd erupts in laughter, but you look over to Lisa to see if the language offended her. She doesn’t seem to mind as she’s laughing along with ever else.

“At Majesty’s,” the speaker walks around dramatically motioning their hands like a magician's assistant, “We perform, we put on a show, we lip sync like you’ve never seen before!” There’s a chorus of claps, cheers, and ‘yass queen’s. 

“We have a special birthday performance by the birthday boy himself! Everybody give it up for Scott Evans!!!” Your section filled with Scott’s friends and family go crazy cheering him on. I wonder what song he decided on. 

Come and put cha name on it, put cha name on it

Come and put cha name on it, ya name

Don't chu wanna put ya name on it, put cha name on it

Come and put cha name on it, bay-bay-bay-bay-uh

“Oh my goodness! He would!” Scott surprised everyone with ‘Birthday Cake’ by Rihanna, and you have to say, he did it justice. Ansel and Jaden are his back up, twerking and being silly hype men. You look around to see everyone in hysterics and cheering, enjoying the clownery and having a good time. 

In your scan of the section, you notice Chris standing beside you. You admire his profile; the way his eyes scrunch up when he smiles genuinely, the lucious length of his lashes, the sharp angle of his nose, the slack of his jaw when he brings his beer to his plump lips. Before he poured the liquid in his mouth, he looked at you from the corner of his eye, the corner of his mouth quirking up around the neck of the bottle. You whip your head back to the stage below, kicking yourself for getting caught. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, but his cheeks take on a slight rosy hue.

When Scott’s performance is over, everyone cheers and claps for the guest of honor, who takes his center stage bow and makes his way back to the section.

You and Chris look at one another, both of you mid smile, gazing at each other. Your smiles fade and you clear your throat, readying yourself to speak, although unsure of what to say.

“That was...”

“Yeah, it was…”

“Cool…”

“Entertaining even…”

“Uh huh.”

“Yep.”

You both stand there awkwardly. You’re looking everywhere but at Chris, while Chris is rocking back and forth on his heels, swinging his hands in front then behind himself.

“What a riveting conversation we’re having,” you joke, hoping to loosen up the tension.

It seems to work because Chris breathes out a light laugh before testing some humor himself. “Going better than our last conversation, that’s for sure.” He peeks at your expression tentatively to see if the joke landed, and it seems so by the small smile you offer him.

“Yeah… yeah, you’re right,” is all you could think to say. A lull enters your exchange again, but this time it feels a little less rigid, but still not comfortable or cozy. You both have the same idea to interrupt the quiet with a start of a sentence, then share a laugh for simultaneously speaking.

“Ladies first,” he says.

“No, you can. I don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“Well, if we were thinking the same thing, you were probably gonna start with ‘I’m sorry…’,” he punctuated with a smile. 

You, however, are not smiling. Your face is contorted in complete confusion. “What exactly should I be apologizing for?”

Now Chris is confused. Your face and your tone say that you are serious. He’s searching your face for any sign of humor, and when he doesn’t find any, says, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe for acting all high and mighty like you’re too good for a peace offering?”

“There wouldn’t need to be a peace offering if you weren’t judgemental in the first place!”

“Maybe, but my judgments weren’t wrong. You parade around like you’re queen of everything!” You glare at him as he continues his tangent.  “‘OOooooOoO look at me, I’ve won a bunch of statues for my poppy-pop songs and spend my money on fufu jackets, but also don’t look at me cos I’m kinda awkward and might turn to putty at any given second.’” He mocks you in a high pitched, “woman” voice. 

You scoff at his foolery and to feel enraged by his stupidly silly drunken display. “First of all, I do not talk like that!”

“Yeah, ok.”

“And secondly, I’m not about to apologize for being proud of my accomplishments that I worked really fucking hard to achieve. I’m not afraid to clap for my damn self. We can’t all be overly-humble and self deprecating and blessed with the ability to be great with everybody. I refuse to shrink myself for anyone any longer!”

‘Any longer’? What’s she mean by that? Chris’ expression softens, as does yours. You’ve realized that you've once again been brought out your box, by a practical stranger no less. The two of you share similar expressions; anger tinged with a bit of hurt. Before either of you could say anything else, not that either of you wanted to, a commotion coming toward the two of you takes your attention away from the heated moment.

Scott is making his rounds through the section, receiving celebratory high fives, kisses, and smacks on the ass. “That was incredible dear!” Lisa punctuated with kisses all over her his face, causing you to laugh at the affection she showed her grown son.

“Ok, ok, thanks Ma!” Scott said, removing his mother’s hands from either side of her face. As he proceeded to wipe off the lipstick from his face, he turned to Chris. “Bro, are you gonna go up there?”

“Nah, just gonna hang back tonight,” Chris says, sounding defeated.

“What? Why? You love karaoke!”

“This isn’t karaoke. Besides, I’m not really feeling it tonight.” That sounds a lot like what you told him as an excuse to leave the game night. You felt like he was baiting you. To bite or not to bite? That is the question. After some intense and uncomfortable pouting from Scott, Chris caved. “Maybe, and that’s a hard maybe!” Chris slurred and gesticulated as he said so.

Satisfied and then distracted, Scott wandered off to his other party guests, his mother following closely behind him. You, however, feeling particularly petty, were not satisfied with his answer. “Too cool for this, are you?” You instigate.

Chris scoffs and swigs his beer, eyes fixed ahead. “Why don’t you go up there? You’re supposedly a big shot rockstar,” you roll your eyes at the title, “and I’ve yet to see what you can do.” A lie, but only he knows that.

You narrow your eyes at him. “I would, but I’ve been told I can’t because I’m a ‘professional’ and will ‘intimidate’ others from having fun, so, whatever…” you say, mocking Scott’s request.

“Yep… sounds about right.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” The liquor made you bold, but Chris barely bats an eye at your brutish behavior. He only winks and walks away. You find yourself trying to manage the butterflies that arise at his slight act, the fluttering cutting through your irritation. What the hell body! We’re not supposed to feel this way towards him!

As you watch Chris disappear down the stairs, there’s a hand on your shoulder that you harshly shrug out of. You turn around to face the offender, but soften at the confused face you meet. “Oh, Lisa. I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to. Not unless you’ve got eyes in the back of your head,” she chuckles. “Are you ok, darling? You look… pissed.”

You lightly laugh, “Yeah… no… I mean yes, I’m fine.”

Lisa looks at you with an eyebrow raised, unconvinced. “Uh huh… I won’t push only because it’s a party, but I want you to know you can tell me anything that troubles you.” Even if it’s your son? You nod, knowing she’s sincere. “So, Scott said that you all are free on Monday.”

“Yep, first full free day in a while!”

“Great! Well, I wanted to invite you to the art museum with me on Monday. There’s a new exhibit opening up and seniors and friends get a special viewing. What do ya say?”

“Aw, I’d love to, Lisa! What’s the—“

“Guys, gals, and non-binary pals! May I have your attention again!” Everyone returns to the railing to look at the host on the stage downstairs. “Our next performer is somewhat unsuspecting, however, a Boston boy through and through. Says he’s a huge fan of the Patriots,” there’s some “woops” for the home team, “and a big fan of singing some Billy Joel…”

“No, he’s not!” you look at Lisa confusedly, as she covers her mouth.

“Who’s not?”

“…and goes by the name of ‘Sassy Cevans’…” the host continues.

“Oh yes he is!” Scott says from your left, inexplicably giddy.

“WHO IS?!” Your question has yet to be answered as the song's guitar riff ripples through the venue. The performer explodes onto the stage, back to the crowd, air strumming along. They turn around as the first lyrics come in and your question is answered, but now you have so, so many more. What in the hell??

Part 5 cont.

[yvvaine]

ASOIAF hot takes ?

I’m not in the best mood right now as I have been working on an essay on the legality of war crimes all week (which is very uplifting in case you were wondering), but that kinda means I want to take out my frustration on something SO LETS JUMP IN:

1) Not much of a hot take but Dany is going be a villain, loves. Don’t misunderstand me: NOT. CRAZY. Nor will to be a sudden, last-minute twist either, looking at you Dumb & Dumber. She’ll be fully in control of her actions, impulsive with violence like she has a long habit of being, and it will end up having dire consequences that solidify her tyrannical tendencies. She’ll hurt and kill a lot more innocent people (more than she has has already….which is still more than a lot of people are comfortably admitting). And it will only become more apparent as the books continue. As the GRRM approved Meereenese Knot Essays basically stated: the dream sequence in the last novel was ultimately a turning point for Dany toward an even darker path where she embraces the family motto to a draconian degree. 

2) It’s worth saying just for the record that I love Daenerys’ idealism and her crusade for a more just, equitable world (how much you think that crusade is actually for personal gain, survival, and/or ambition under the general guise of righteousness is on you though), but it ended up being pointless and ill-executed.

2B) On that point, I’m vehemently against those who counter any criticism of her crusade, specifically how she handled the crucifixion of all men wearing togas (which were a symbol of wealth, not just of owning slaves) over the age of 14, as being “pro-slavery” when that’s usually far, far from reality. I’d argue that though she tried to make the situation better, which is again admirable, she eventually becomes a glorified slaver herself, literally. “Mysa is a master”. Think about it, I mean at first she “liberates” cities based upon opportunity, and impulse, and what they can offer her, at that moment. But it’s a short term power/resource grab, and all she ends up doing is creating a bigger mess for the mostly-innocent people that live there, sentencing them to lives in horrid conditions like hunger, death, violence, and poverty. In Meereen she uses the people that she liberates (and its not like these “ex”-slaves had better options other than to follow her, or families elsewhere, etc. … plus to them she’s this albino goddess come out of ashes to save them who has these magical, thought-to-be-extinct dragons; it seems reasonable she’d amass a following on that alone) as her unpaid labor force in various inhumane conditions. Then the city becomes so mismanaged, chaotic, and violent because she is so inept at actually, ya know, ruling, that she allows said people to sell themselves BACK into slavery, SO LONG AS SHE GETS A 10% CUT…. sort of like A SLAVER. I just don’t think the metaphorical America in GRRM’s Afghanistan, considering how anti-war he is in real life, and how disastrous he’s said that that expression of imperialism actually was, is going to end up being the good, ethical guy you want in charge by the end of his novel allegorizing the triumphs and pitfalls of power. His whole point is that good intentions don’t guarantee good actions or good outcomes, however honorable that they might be. Short term decisions are just that; short term. 

3) Sansa is not like Lysa in any way besides their casual connections to Littlefinger (of totally different natures) and their red fucking hair. I see a lot of gifsets or meta —usually by extreme Arya stans (which to be fair: you do you! I’m not about to sit here and tell anyone how much they should or shouldn’t love a particular character; the whole point of literature is that its entirely subjective and based off of emotional connection) — that states to some degree or another Arya = Lyanna and Sansa = Lysa when like….. no. I agree its very apparent that Arya shares a lot of personality and appearance-related attributes with her paternal Aunt, but that does not foil to her sister and other Aunt. If anything Arya has a stronger Lysa-connection with the whole “jealous of the more beautiful and dutiful red-haired older sister” thing. But that’s a silly and superficial parallel at best, just like claiming a connection to Lysa/Sansa because of shared geography and a “Tully look”. Moreover, on the Tully note, there’s nowhere that it says Sansa and Lysa look alike the same way the text explicitly says Arya and Lyanna do. They just both have red hair and blue eyes. That fact alone is not enough to constitute a parallel; in the books their face shape, eye color, physical figures, and other attributes like cheekbones are described totally different. Even the color of their red hair is described in different shades. 

4) People need to stop discounting Sansa’s connections to Lyanna. Yes, they are not alike in looks or personality the way that Arya and Lyanna are, but their stories align very closely in many ways that Arya and Lyanna’s do not. Both were Northern princess with broken betrothals to “Baratheons”. Both were debatably romantically involved with Crown Princes. Both were given tourney roses. Both “kept/imprisoned” in the South. Both’s strengths were underestimated because of their beauty (Porcelain, Ivory, Steal, vs. You saw her beauty, but not the iron underneath). Their siblings went to war for them (and independence too) and their fathers and brothers were executed in the south, on the King’s orders. Both have strong song motifs, rose motifs, etc. And they share a lot of literary quotes besides their famous beauty v. metal parallel (i.e. “like a ghost, dead before her time” is repeated once in regards to Lyanna, and once again by Sansa, no other times). Just…. stop discounting them. 

5) Arya’s story is not one of duty and ladyship, stop trying to fit her into that mold. She doesn’t want to be the wife, mother, or queen. In her own words: “Thats not me, that’s Sansa”. She’s finding herself and trying to survive while being true to who she is at the same —  that’s her journey of personal growth. To accept her rebellious nature, her untamed wildness, her adventurous spirit and know it doesn’t make her a freak or bad at being a woman. While I know a lot of people might hope that the end of her journey is like, “I’ll be a queen of the people sitting at my desk doing paperwork and running a castle and kingdom and all that it involves”, but I would be sorely disappointed if that’s her endgame, the woman they’ve been trying to mold her into since the beginning. I can understand why: she understands the common folk and their needs, wants, and humanity, in ways that no other contender for queen does. Daenerys has always been a degree removed from the people, even when she wast technically supposed to be a part of them re: her marriage to Khal Drogo, and she has become further and further removed from the people she rules over ever since. Margaery doesn’t truly, truly care about them, but rather sees them and their love as a source of popularity/power. Cersei is Cersei. Sansa bought into the role of the “high dignified lady” and the class system that unwittingly upholds the duty she’d been taught to model, and though she is learning that its a load of crap - especially as the “bastard” Alayne - and has always been very, very kind throughout her imprisonment in Kingslanding to dealing Sweetrobin in the Eryie, she still has a long way to go before she is truly a lady of the people, (which i think is the crux of Sansa’s journey).

I think I’ll stop there - thats enough ranting for one day! It did make me feel a little bit better though, I have to say! Thank you for the ask dear

Xx 

[wintersrcse]

✦ ▓ AND WHO GOES THERE? oh, it’s just [ LYANNA STARK ]. some say [ HER ] resemblance to [ MAGGIE Q ] is almost uncanny, but the [ FIFTY ] year old has been in the capital for [ 3 MONTHS ]. many suspect that they are the notorious [ BRIGADIER ] of the [ STARK ] family: perhaps that has made them [ IMPULSIVE ] && [ OBSTINATE ] of late, when they used to be so [ STRONG WILLED ] && [ FORTHRIGHT ]. during the daylight hours, [ LYANNA ] can be found working as a [ REPATRIATION RESEARCH SPECIALIST ], but when night falls over king’s landing, they are best remembered listening to [ ALL MY DEMONS BY AURORA ]. may the gods be with them in these dark streets.

THE ORIGINAL MAFIA PRINCESS ; 

Lyanna was raised equal to her brothers in a time when people would not consider a daughter to be so.  Her confidence, her sureness, her wild nature were all seen as things ladies should not have.  But the Starks always knew their women were their strength, not their weakness.  

Her young days were spent running alongside Brandon, Eddard and Benjen, their fourth musketeer, twigs and leaves in her hair as they played cops and robbers.  Rickard and Lyarra Stark had long learned to leave well enough alone, and never tried to temper their daughter’s fire, her unrestrained want for life and all it’s experiences.

Perhaps mollifying their daughter’s need to act on any deep feeling would’ve saved a lot of people a lot of trouble down the line, but at the time, the idea of telling their only little girl to stop acting on her emotions was not something they wanted to do.  

But as a child, her deep feeling of the world around her; of it’s beauties, it’s injustices, it’s love, served to make her an empathetic, courageous, and one to always stand up for her beliefs.  If a kid was being bullied unfairly on the playground, she’d later be found missing next day’s recess due to her throwing of rocks at the perpetrators.    Growing up the only sister with three brothers left her with a strong arm and sharp tongue, something she’d use without restraint.

At a young age she also recognized the power of her family’s name, and always tried to use it for good.  She would use her sway to frighten people who needed frightening, she’d use it to make things right when she could.  She was never oblivious to her family’s dark dealings, nor did she ever disapprove of it, but she would try and use the Stark name for positive change when she had the chance.

Alongside her brothers, when she hit the tender age of 16, their parents officially began to let them in on the family business, although their entire lives had been filled with different lessons and trainings, both mental and physical.  While they had always been aware of the going-ons, suddenly the four children were being asked their opinions, being asked what they would do in a situation.  In the beginning, most times their answers ended with Rickard telling them exactly why that was not the correct answer.  But eventually, gentle lectures turned into proud smiles as Rickard’s children learned.  And at one point, without the children knowing, situations posed at nightly dinners were no longer in the past or fictitious and were current dealings, and their words had weight and were considered.  

So to say Lyanna was raised for this life would be correct.  Never did she think she would ever willingly give it away.  But that was because she hadn’t met Rhaegar yet.  She had known of him, of course, the Targaryens being a well known family to say the least.  But it wasn’t until they met at some glad-handing event, did she truly understand what all the fuss was about.  And it seemed as if he felt the same way.  And the rest, as they say, was history.

Lyanna will never excuse her actions during this time, she can’t justify them, because she cannot say they were right or reasonable.  In fact, they were wrong and unreasonable.  But her fatal flaw was her deep feeling heart, and she could see nothing else but what it wanted.  She could not see the fiancé and boyfriend they respectively left at home on their nights spent together. All she could see was her love for Rhaegar.  And at 20, when you think someone is your one true love, you’d be willing to burn down your entire world for them.

And they did try, oh they did.  Jon was their match.  They hoped the birth of a child would lead their families to allow them to break their entanglements to Elia and Robert respectively.  Create an allyship between Stark and Targaryen.  But they soon found out that Lyanna could bear no children genetically her own.  So the two young lovers sought out a discreet pregnancy via in-vitro.  While biologically Lyanna is not Jon’s mother, she did carry and give birth to them.  The couple’s egg donor looked remarkably like Lyanna, making it so Jon believably could be the result of their time spent together.  To this day, no one knows that Jon was not simple the result of neglect and or failure of birth control after nights spent together.

When Jon was born Lyanna was only 21, a fact that many people seem to forget in their attempt to vilify the other woman that Lyanna had become.  What they had done, what she had done, was not right, but people also fail to understand that she was young, dumb and in love, could see nothing else due to the brightness of their relationship.  She couldn’t see the harm they would cause if their planned failed, or succeeded.

THE BEGINNING OF THE END ;

But it did fail.  Aegon refused to let the allyship to the Martell’s be broken by his son’s misplaced love, and Lyarra and Rickard finally put their foot down, telling Lyanna just because she felt something, even if she wanted something with all her heart, didn’t mean she could have it.  This left Lyanna in a relationship (soon to turn into an engagement) that she did not want.  Rhaegar was left to put Elia in the unfairest of positions by marrying her despite not holding the truest of loves for her.  And Jon was left a bastard.  Ned, always the honorable older brother had offered to take Jon in as his own, pass him off as his child, knowing that the world would look more kindly on his bastard than her own.

The first year, Lyanna raised Jon among her and her family, with Rhaegar coming to visit whenever he could.  But around their first birthday, things were rough.  Between the Starks shady dealings, whispers that the Martells had found out, and Rhaegar’s rising star, it became clear to Lyanna and Rhaegar that Jon was not safe in King’s Landing.  So they sent them upstate.  To this day, Lyanna attests that this was the hardest decision she ever had to make.  But she knew, that if they weren’t proactive about Jon’s safety, they could lose them forever, not just for their formative years.  As well as, deep down she knew, even if the secret of their parentage was kept, they’d never have a normal childhood, and it was something she vehemently wanted for them.

Rhaegar and Lyanna visited them in the little hideaway as often as they could, spending as long as they could manage.  Sometimes it was hours, sometimes days, and on a rare few occasions, weekends and weeks.  They saw their little child bloom into a normal child, so unlike the lives they themselves had led.  And looking back, Lyanna knew if she had the choice, she would let them continue to grow that way.  But life (or, the Lannisters) had other plans, and their secret, their family, their lives and Jon’s little hideaway was blown up by one leaked video.  She’s honestly not even sure where it came from, or how long the Lannisters had had it, but what she did know was it brought ruination.  

Afraid of reprisal, Jon was whisked away back to King’s landing, Lyanna and Rhaegar feeling much better with them among kin to protect them than a sweet but defenseless old lady out in the sticks.  Of course, that meant the end to their idyllic childhood, but it was a precaution that they had to take.  But the two made yet another hard decision, and in a way Lyanna finally took Ned up on his offer.  Afraid that their presence would not only lead to Jon being under constant scrutiny from the media as well as the other families but also be a danger to them as well, Rhaegar and Lyanna left them with her family, to grow up among his cousins, aunts and uncles.  

EXILE && RETURN ;

And then the two fled the city.  No one had ever been able to confirm if the two had gone their separate ways or had left together.  Most people were naysayers, accusing the two of falling into their adulterous ways due to lust, and no relationship based on that would survive the scandal.  But a few, perhaps the ones closest to them, had inklings of the idea that the two had left together.

And those people would have been right.  While sickened by the pain they caused to others in the wake of their dirty laundry coming to light, the two were also incredibly relieved, finally able to love each other as they had always wanted: freely and in the open.  Of course they continued the tradition of visits with Jon, only now they came to their parents, rather than the other way around.

It’s been almost 2 decades, 19 years exactly since they left, and it’s been almost 30 years that the two have been together.  In this time not only have they grown closer than ever, but each found out who they were without their families, without the pressures of King’s Landing and the ever present threat of death, scandal, and violence.  Lyanna went to school, she majored in anthropology, began to work for a museum and somehow found herself interested in and eventually working in the repatriation of antiquities.  To finally have one thing separate from all the chaos and madness of King’s Landing, something that was truly her own was a beautiful thing.  

And while they thrived away from the spotlight, the fact that they gave up their homes, their families, their jobs has to be recognized.  And it was silly to think of people that they would never return to take back what was theirs, even if that means only taking back friday family night dinners with extended family.  In Lyanna’s case, she knew it was time for her to return for her rightful seat at the table, to take the title that had been hers from the beginning: brigadier.  And Ned offered it freely.

Some may scoff at the idea of her taking the position, having been away for so long.  But many forget she had trained for the title for the first 20 years of her life, just as long as she had been away.  Of course, there would be an adjustment, learning new players in the game.  But Lyanna was always a quick study when it came to things of this nature, so anyone who has something to say about needs to either say it softly, or come at her with a big stick.

THOSE YOU’VE KNOWN ;

YOU HAVE BEEN HURT;  The people at the center of the controversy, close family members and those directly affected who have not moved on and firmly grip the past in their hands.  They have not forgotten nor have they forgiven.  Depending on who it is, Lyanna will either allow herself to be lashed by their tongues and fists, or will tell them to fuck off and move on.

YOU HAVE BEEN HEALED; The other people who have moved on, moved past, who realized holding onto old scandals from two decades past did no one any good.  They don’t have to be best friends, but Lyanna will be grateful to anyone who either realizes it’s none of their business, or even if it was, they’ve chosen to forgive and forget.

FRIENDS OF OLD; Friends that were regrettably left behind when Lyanna left King’s Landing.  They could be more than willing to pick up friendship where they left off, or perhaps they could be hurt and in need of an apology before even considering reviving their friendship.  [Would need to be Stark aligned, either in the syndicate itself or an ally of the Starks at the time of Lyanna’s departure]

I’M WITH YOU UNTIL THE END OF THE LINE;  The so called ride-or-die, probably the one person outside of immediate family that knew the truth, that knew of her whereabouts and stayed in touch all these years. She truly believes without this person’s unwavering support and friendship, Lyanna would not have made it through. [Would need to be Stark aligned, either in the syndicate itself or an ally of the Starks at the time of Lyanna’s departure]

COG IN THE MACHINE; This person has been Lyanna’s spy within the Stark syndicate for the past few years, simply letting her in on the inner workings of the family business while she’s been away.  Nothing more, nothing less, although coming back into the fold it’s nice to have an ally already in place.

WRENCH IN THE SYSTEM; Someone (or someones) who is not happy with Lyanna’s return to the Stark Syndicate.  Perhaps they thought they should take the position of Brigadier, or maybe they just don’t see how someone out of the loop for twenty years is up to the task.  Whatever the reason is, the two will probably be butting heads.  

A PLACE WHERE NOTHING WAS LOST, JUST REDISCOVERED; A simple connection of the two having some previous or new connection due to her working with museums!  Perhaps your muse is a board member (something many rich people do), or is a large donor, or works there themselves.

[isaacdian]

hope you don't mind me asking, do you have any Isaac and Miria headcanons? i'd love to read some from you. you appear to have a good grasp on the characters, and great love for them. :)

aw thank you so much for the ask, sure thing!

some of these will probably get into theory territory as well, because i’ve had the novels sitting in my mind for years now, and there are a few details i’d like to mention (beware of baccano light novel spoilers, just in case).

this could get a bit long, so you can read it below the cut:

i’ll write my headcanons/thoughts in no particular order. more people might have come to similar conclusions, but i don’t think i’ve seen any posts or had any discussions with anyone regarding these (at least in depth), so!

- i like to think that miria and isaac ran away from their then (seemingly) unhappy lives after they got to interact with each other for quite a while, and not spontaneously upon meeting for the first time.

there isn’t much evidence to back this up beyond some characters commenting that they “were probably runaways” or that “maybe they eloped”, so they might have escaped together on the spot, since we already know they can be very impulsive. however, i get this feeling that their bond took some time to develop, and i’d love to see some of their interactions as isaac dian —and— miria harvent before they ever became isaac & miria, if that makes sense.

i doubt they met too long before their string of robberies, though? this is such a weirdly specific and probably meaningless thing to pinpoint, but in 1935 miria asks isaac if he’s ever been to the circus, and he responds that he does remember animals, but he doesn’t remember if that was the circus or the zoo. this hardly means anything, but their circumstances overall don’t really make me think that they’ve known each other since they were too young.

- whatever optimism and general exhilaration regarding life isaac has is innate. on the other hand, miria has mostly acquired her own sense of hopefulness over time, with isaac’s help.

miria is a 100% confirmed literal ray of sunshine and this indisputable. it just hasn’t/doesn’t always come to her as effortlessly as it may seem. bloody to fair isaac and miria magic show color page.png

this is somewhat related to the next one (and also the last point i’ll mention at the end of this post):

- when isaac gets arrested and he and miria get separated in 1934, they’re both having an equally hard time dealing with this.

okay this one is like. obvious ksjksk. but i wanted to talk about how they deal with this situation, because at first glance it looks like miria got the shortest end of the stick here. and in a way, that might be true! i’ve already mentioned that miria herself has been shown thinking about how much isaac helped her to be happy, and narita has been deliberately vague regarding the nature of their silliness, on top of hinting at the possibility of their shenanigans being a kind of mechanism to escape the harsh realities of life from the rolling bootlegs (very first novel), if i recall correctly.

(btw:

i recall that somewhere in the 1935 arc, graham starts talking with the usual “let me tell you a sad, sad story” prelude. however, isaac and miria are upset by this, and they tell him that he shouldn’t tell sad stories, because if you do it, your happiness will run away. meanwhile, this part in cloudy to rainy living rent free in my head:

i have to laugh..........)

that being said, i couldn’t help but feel like isaac was having an equally bad time, even if he displayed it in a different and not so blatant way. while i was rereading the novels after i got to buy the official english release, i felt very strongly that something was definitely wrong about their separation, which, again, is obvious to us readers and to the characters who know isaac & miria. but it extends beyond that. there was this general feeling of knowing that whoever came across an unaccompanied isaac would magically feel like there was something missing. i don’t know how else to explain this. he’s still full of energy and optimism and he’s fueled by his desire to reunite with miria, but every time he’s shown hesitating or doesn’t reach a satisfying conclusion while thinking about a frivolous topic, it hits you like “oh... right” (firo didn’t help much on that last front, either, so miria and isaac must have had to discuss what exactly happens to fellas who don’t believe in fairies after their reunion... lol)

in short, he needs miria just as much as she needs him. this is something i’ve seen other people mention as well: isaac might be the “force” factor in their relationship, but that force won’t amount to much without miria’s “direction”, and viceversa. the lift each other up, and they keep each other grounded, too.

i’m also remembering isaac and sham’s conversation and just. there’s a self-esteem/confidence factor in there. Fun Game of Spot the Difference

and this is getting ridiculously long, so i’ll spare you from having to read my dumb thots about isaac’s (possibly real) fear of miria not liking him, as the narrator implies, which i subconsciously ended up linking to that one impossibly crack ending in the ds game, where you pick the option of him not knowing frankenstein’s monster’s real name, so miria leaves him after realizing how “cheap and uncool” he is LMAO

- isaac’s father might have been an academic of some sort, as well as a stern man who disapproved of his son’s flighty and childish tendencies.

???????? besides miria’s implied tragic backstory, the most we know about both of their pasts is that isaac comes from a wealthy family with whom he seems to have a bad relationship with, so even though i’ve tried to work out other details (his parents’ provenance for instance?) i can’t really elaborate on this. even if isaac’s knowledge on the topic is pretty scrambled (to put it nicely lol), he knows a lot about “the orient” as he puts it, and the “dian” surname is pretty unique so who knows!👀 i’ve only mentioned his father because isaac, too, has only mentioned his "old man” twice so far in the novels, if i’m not mistaken. in my opinion, it also speaks volumes how flustered isaac got when molsa apologized to him, because it was the first time someone older than him has done this. and this is pretty arbitrary, but if isaac started robbing and getting into trouble before he and miria even met and/or before he got kicked out/ran away from home, that whole deal about “being used to dealing with policemen” (in the unofficial translation i read back in the day it was something along the lines of “this isn’t my first time being interrogated by the police”) in 1934 would make sense, i guess, considering that miria didn’t realize what was going on at the moment even though she’s a fairly perceptive person.

anyways it’s too bad we don’t know that much about miria on this front, also!! i get the vague feeling that she might have also come from a wealthy family (probably not a good environment, though), since in 1935 it’s mentioned that the closest they’ve ever gotten to working/having a job was when they were digging for gold, apparently. that’s why i can’t really think of anything too specific regarding miria’s past and upbringing... i have a feeling that she might have felt alone, trapped and/or overwhelmed. let’s just hope that when she said her bruises would heal up fine with ice in 1935 it had nothing to do with this “i should have died” business :(((

- even though isaac and miria love their friends and would do anything for them, they aren’t particularly attached to anyone (or any place) besides each other.

this is more of an observation than a headcanon, but i find it really interesting: they would definitely do anything for their friends, and they do enjoy life very intensely, but that’s precisely why they don’t seem to be fixed in one singular spot? basically, i feel like they’re the personification of “home is where the heart is” taken to the extreme. they could go anywhere and do anything as long as they have each other, and they will never make any attempts to actively do things that make it easier to label their relationship, such as getting married, which is heavily implied by firo (i think) in 2002 bullet garden (i think!!). that’s also part of the reason why i’m sure they’d never find themselves commiting to things like taking care of a pet, or a child; it’s more like they instantly “adopt” everyone they run into, as if they’ve always been friends, even if they won’t meet again for months, years, or ever again. anyway, isaac and miria are extremely good and they are literally going to be happy together forever and ever! they don’t need to prove that.

that doesn’t mean they’re not sentimental, though! i like to think that they keep some meaningful objects that remind them of fond memories of their friends. and this is hardly canon because it shows up in the anime And in a background at that, but shoutout to the rocking toy horse in their california mine lol.

- miria knew about her own immortality (as well as isaac’s) before the 2000s.

THIS IS PROBABLY MY SPICIEST TAKE and i tried to back it up in the next point of this list. i still keep thinking i’m reading too much, into this but

i can’t stop thinking about the implications, folks

which brings us to:

- miria is smarter than isaac is and actually has a fairly good idea of when he’s making stuff up, but is happy to let him take the lead.

i won’t deny that isaac and miria dedicate a huge chunk of their day to doing moronic stuff, and they are pretty dumb, but i feel like people don’t give them enough credit for how perceptive they are. even though that’s true of the two of them, i feel like this mostly applies to miria.

among other things, we’ve learned that she knows ronny isn’t human and has supernatural powers (wow), which is why she comes to him for help after isaac’s arrest. she’s very good at paying attention to small details, such as the kind of programs ennis watches on tv, or chané’s feelings, when the two talk in 1934. miria also “really knows her way around japanese” and has been shown to --apparently?-- multiply large numbers in her head in 1935... while isaac was talking about how good of an idea it would be to use the martingale betting system. not to mention how isaac stated he “doesn’t know how to count money” earlier in this arc. my god ksdjgjks. i want to know what’s up with this, if anything.

so, yeah! there’s probably more stuff that i could mention, but i am exhausted lol. thank you for your patience anon, i have no idea how long this has been sitting in my inbox. always happy to get baccano questions <3 i apologize for any typos/errors and the like.

bonus headcanon: miria grabs ennis with one hand and chané with her other hand and they go out with their arms linked and excited and they learn more about having fun, as friends do. no printer just fax