#its Tuesday it’ll be fine

[hobisexually]

x

[eunhos]

.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Last one I swear...What If 141...had an American girlfriend and they argued or had to teach them about some cultural differences? Football/soccer...currency...bathroom/loo, etc.

You said last one but we know that's not true. Don't blame you though. Keep them coming.

I love this idea. It's so cute! Translation mixup, confusion about slang, cultural differences, etc. Even though the Brits speak English, it's nothing like American English in a lot of respects, which is why I find this prompt so fun!

Wanted to make this quick and short. Presented in four drabbles. Enjoy!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings: brief swearing, brief mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 400

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Those are cookies, Kyle.”

“It’s a biscuit.”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “A biscuit is savory. Cookies are sweet.”

“Your biscuit is a scone.”

“Oh my god,” you groan.

An old lady navigates around the two of you inside the grocery store. Her cart almost clips you.

Kyle glances down at the list in his hands. “What the fuck is an eggplant?”

“We need it for dinner on Tuesday.”

“But what is it?”

You point and Kyle follows. His arm drops to his side and he side-eyes you.

“That’s an aubergine.”

“That’s an aubergine,” you mimic as Kyle laughs.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The front of the pub is painted all black with intricate gold lettering. A nearby streetlamp casts the front window in a warm glow.

“Remember what I told you?” asks Simon.

You both stare at the pub, neither moving to the door just yet.

“Tell me again.”

Simon clears his throat. “If I’m buying a round, don’t offer money for your portion. Order at the bar but don’t linger. Know what you want. Respect closing time.”

He pauses and you see him turn in the reflection of the window.

“Got it?” he asks.

“Got it.”

“Let’s get bloody pissed then.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“You’ve got this. Don’t stress.” Johnny grasps your shoulders and squeezes. “It’ll be fine.”

“What if I mess up. Make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t,” he affirms.

“Johnny.”

He sighs and then cups the sides of your face. “You don’t have to say anything but three things.” You breathe deep, and Johnny goes in for a quick kiss. “What are they?”

“Aye,” you say. “Which means yes.”

“Naw,” and this is you emphasize with a terrible accent that makes Johnny wince, “is no.”

“What else?”

“It’s okay to use ‘fuck’ casually in a sentence.”

“That’s my girl,” laughs Johnny.

John Price

“If you’re coming to the game, you’re calling it by its proper name,” says John, pointing at you.

“What?” you ask with pretend aloofness. “Soccer?”

“Football,” he growls with annoyance.

It irritates John when you call the sport by its American name. But you do it anyway just to tease him.

John holds up a jersey. “This is important to me.”

“I know.”

“It’s a game with the boys.”

You pat his shoulder. “I know, John.”

He sighs. “What is it called?”

You remain quite and John arches an eyebrow.

“Soccer,” you answer, grinning.

“You’re lucky you’re so damn cute.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@taysarchive @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

[yelenasbraid]

𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐨 𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 — 𝒋𝒐𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘

summary — joe proposes to you

warnings — fem!reader, major fluff

note — joe is NOT bald in this, but when i saw he shaved his head i winced a little (i’m dramatic i know it’ll be fine)

𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋. you and joe were hosting your families for dinner, and you couldn’t be more excited. you loved when your families got together, eating dinner and laughing at all of the good memories.

joe was excited for the same reason, but there was another one that had kept him up the previous night.

“dad said he wanted to grill tonight, so if it’s alright with you, we let good ol’ dad grill,” you chirped as you slid a pumpkin pie into the oven. joe always requested pie at special occasions, sometimes he requested it on a normal tuesday. you always obliged; you thought it was adorable that joe’s favorite dessert was pumpkin pie.

“less cooking for us,” joe grinned. he was at the counter, leaning his forearms against the countertop. he watched you, observing how your cheeks were flushed with the heat coming from the oven, how your hair was tied up behind you. your eyes sparkled as you eyed him, a grin spreading across your lips.

“true, plus dad makes a killer steak,” you told him, putting a timer on the oven. you stepped away from the oven and walked up to joe, wrapping your arms around his middle from behind him.

“has your mom said anything?” you asked as you rested your chin on his shoulder.

“only that she’s bringing a side, though i told her not to,” he twisted his head to kiss your temple. as much as he loved having family over, hearing the laughter and seeing you smile, joe cherished moments like this where it was just the two of you. it was a kind of intimacy that while silent, spoke volumes.

“mama burrow will always bring a side, you know she misses cooking for you boys,” you hummed, and joe sighed in agreement. there were days he missed being with his mom, but he wouldn’t change anything. if he did, who knows if he��d have met you?

a knock at the door separated you two.

“hold on,” joe spoke as you parted to get the door. he softly grabbed your hand and pulled you to him, softly kissing your lips.

“what was that for?” you smiled, pulling away with a blush on your cheeks. even after three years, joe still could make you blush.

“just because,” he shrugged, a boyish smile making its way onto his face. you playfully rolled your eyes, pecking his lips again.

“alright, sweet boy,” you said, turning away from him to greet your guests.

—

dinner was done, dessert finished, and now both families were sitting outside on the patio, lights illuminating faces. you sat by joe, a glass of wine in your hands as you listened to a story your mom was telling.

“i’m telling you guys, this girl could fall asleep anywhere. i’ll never forget i came home from work one day to find 6 year old y/n sleeping in her father’s office chair. except she wasn’t sitting in it, no, the top half of her made it into the chair, legs didn’t. so she fell asleep only halfway on a desk chair,” your mom couldn’t contain her giggles as she recalled the memory.

“how did you not fall off?” robin asked you, blushes of embarrassment rising to your cheeks.

“that’s a fantastic question,” you laughed, as did everyone else.

“she can pretty much still fall asleep anywhere,” joe confirmed, which earned a playful eye roll and a shove from you.

stories continued to be shared, and as the evening came to a close, the ring box in joe’s pocket grew heavier by the second. he was beginning to get nervous. what if he said things wrong? what if, by some chance, you said no? you’ve seen each other through thick and thin, the good days and the bad days. why was he so nervous?

it was getting later, the soft colors of the sunset beginning to fade. you and joe bid farewell to your guests, but you didn’t hear what your father said to joe as he embraced him.

“she’s gonna say yes, joe,” your father gave him a wink before they all bid farewell for the evening, leaving the two of you alone. the little affirmation from your father helped joe’s nerves, but not enough to completely be rid of them.

“well, that was fun! i would say dad cooked an extra mean steak tonight,” you sighed as you took another sip of your wine.

“he definitely upped his steak game,” he agreed, but the more he stood there the crazier the nerves got. he felt like he was going to keel over, but at the same time, he was so excited. ever since he met you he wanted to marry you. he couldn’t see him spending forever with anyone else.

you finished your glass and got up to take it into the kitchen. joe softly grabbed your hand, pulling you back to him. a concerned but relaxed expression dawned on your face as you walked towards him.

“you alright?” you asked him, setting your wine glass down. you felt the warmth of his hands, how sweaty they were.

“i’ve never been better,” he hummed. underneath the lights, you glowed. your eyes sparkled, your skin was glowing, and of course you held a smile on your face. he ran the words over in his mind, hoping he made some sense. it shouldn’t matter, but it did to him.

“you look like you’re gonna pass out,” you commented, which earned a chuckle from joe.

“i’m not gonna pass out on you, promise,” he reassured you. he cleared his throat, and brought his hand out of yours to caress your face. you reached up and grabbed his hand, watching as his eyes sparkled.

“have i ever told you how much i love you?” his words were smooth and sweet. you felt your cheeks heat up, and for some reason, the butterflies awoke in your stomach.

“many times, joey,” you answered.

“y/n i…you’ve been by my side this entire time. with grace, with love, and with a forgiveness that sometimes i didn’t deserve. ever since i transferred from ohio state, you’ve been there. you told me that i shouldn’t give up on my dream to be a pro football player. you told me to prove them wrong,” he started, feeling his eyes start to burn with tears. he swore he wouldn’t cry, not now. he had to at least get down on one knee first.

you were silent. you watched him curiously, but something in your gut told you this wasn’t a normal speech. your breath was shaky with nerves as you watched him, trying not to get your hopes up too high.

“you stuck with me through lsu, through injury after injury. through everything, and i can’t repay any of that. you’ve been the safety i come home to, my biggest cheerleader, and the woman who’s been the glue to hold me together,” he continued, fighting the tears that threatened to spill.

you held onto his hand, which had dropped from your face, and rubbed circles on his hand with your thumb.

“with all of that being said,” he started, digging a shaky hand into his pocket and pulling out the box, “will you marry me?” he got down on one knee, opened the box and revealed the beautiful diamond ring he bought you.

your hands covered your mouth as tears escaped your eyes. you were speechless for a moment, mainly because of the words joey said and the intentionality behind them, but also because you didn’t see this coming. at all.

“joey i wouldn’t want to do anything else in this life,” you whispered, offering him your left hand, “so yes, i will marry you,” joe’s face ignited as you responded, sliding the ring over your ring finger. the second he did, you stood him up by the collar and kissed him, your hands cupping his face. your lips mingled together, every emotion and every ounce of adoration you had for each other pouring out of you. joe’s hands found their way to your face, cupping your cheeks as you firmly kissed him. it was a warm embrace, and even as you kissed him tears still streamed down both of your faces.

finally pulling away, you rested your forehead against his.

“i love you, so much, joseph burrow,” you whispered, looking into his eyes.

“i love you, future mrs. burrow,” he hummed as he dipped his head in for another kiss.

ok ok yes i have no idea what an engagement speech sounds like (or if that’s still a thing, some people just pop the question) so if these sound like vows IM SORRY

[ghost-proofbaby]

friday, i'm in love (eddie munson x reader)

summary: one of these days, you'll talk to the cute boy at your coffee shop. just... not today. (wc: 6.3k+)

order up! i've got one cup of sunshine for @munson-blurbs ♡

Today’s the day. 

You take a deep breath, adjusting the strap of your bag as it digs into your shoulder.

Today’s the day. 

You pull the door open for your local Starbucks, your preferred study date destination. 

Today’s the day. 

You smile at one of the other regulars, a kind and older gentleman named Jim. If you focus on Jim, your eyes won’t avert to him. 

Today’s the day.

You already know he’s here. You delude yourself into believing you can specifically hear the scratch of his pencil on paper, that every click of a mouse or clack of a keyboard is coming from his laptop. Hell, maybe if you closed your eyes, you’d convince yourself the music humming over the shop’s speakers is actually the muffled tone warbling out of his headphones. 

Today’s the day.

You order one of your normal drinks, one brimming with caffeine and drowning in enough sweet caramel drizzle to give you instantaneous cavities. It doesn’t matter – today’s meant to be a sweet day. The weather’s nice, nothing like it was last week when you’d been ordering a hot Earl Grey tea sweetened with honey each day, and you tell the young man taking your order that it’ll be iced. 

He’s new. You have no doubt in your mind, because he wasn’t here last week, and one of the baristas you do recognize is hovering to the side as he rings you out. 

You’re a creature of habit. All the baristas know you well, other regulars (see: Jim) even recognize you these days. You used to only come in once or twice a week, either to cram for tests or play a morbid game of catchup with all your homework, but something changed in the last two months. 

He showed up in the last two months. 

Today’s… not the day.

You turn with your overly sweet drink in hand only to be met with sore disappointment. You were right, he is here, already seated at his usual table. 

And he’s joined by a girl and boy you’ve never seen before, but he surely has, by the way he’s all smiles and laughter focused directly at the pair. 

You try to not let your stomach drop too low, to catch it before it hits the ground and gathers any unwanted attention your way. It’s fine, it’s okay, it’s good – today wasn’t the day, but maybe tomorrow will be. Maybe tomorrow can finally be the day you speak to the boy from the coffee shop who’s overrun your thoughts one day at a time, the boy you see every day like clockwork, the boy you’ve never exchanged a single word with. 

“Dingus, you can’t just say that to a girl!” the girl seated in front of him, her back to you, yells as she smacks Dingus on the chest. 

Your coffeeshop boy only cackles in delight, and you feel as if the sunshine that has broken through the cloud cover outside has wormed its way into your veins. His laugh is brilliant and warming as it echoes in your chest, and you try to remind your beating heart that it isn’t yours to keep. That doesn’t stop your arteries and veins from wrapping their way around the sound and thrumming to match its pace. It doesn’t stop your ribs from trying to hopelessly capture the sunshine. Maybe one day you’ll make him laugh like that, maybe one day you’ll find the nerve to strike a conversation with him.

Tomorrow has to be the day, since this sunny Monday hasn’t been.

—

Tuesday also isn’t the day. 

You don’t even have a good excuse this time. He’s alone today, just as he usually is. His headphones are already in once you’ve arrived and you can hear tinny guitar solos blaring out of them from across the room. You almost convince yourself that that’s a good reason to approach him, to tap his shoulder and let him know how listening to music that loudly can permanently damage your eardrums, y’know? 

But then you realized how prissy that made you sound. If you did that, you’re sure Chrissy, one of your favorite baristas here, would absolutely taunt you for days on end, probably making jabs about you being a grandma, going the full mile and offering you a senior discount just for shit and giggles. 

So you stay seated. And you meet the peculiar look of Chrissy as she watches you and Eddie, the only two customers in the lobby this time of afternoon, as if she’s waiting for something to happen. Anything. The raise of her eyebrows serves as a painful prodding in your side as if to say “Well? What are you waiting for? Go on.” 

You don’t go on. And that’s the issue – for the last two months, you have let the idea of some stranger completely occupy every thought you have to spare without even knowing his name. He was just always here; two months ago, your once quaint and nice study spot was infiltrated by wild curls and drumming fingers, plush pink lips that could make the older ladies that pass through absolutely swoon with a simple smirk and hello. You’d talked the ear off of all your friends for nearly an hour the day he’d worn grey sweatpants in rather than his normal ripped jeans. You’d caught yourself staring intently at the various rings that decorate his left hand on more than one occasion, trying to make out what the various symbols of silver were. 

“This is getting painful to watch.” 

You hadn’t even noticed Chrissy round the counter and head over to your table with a cloth in hand until she was looking down at you with a soft, childish pout and her big blue eyes framed with furrowed brows. 

“What?” you question, putting down the pen you’d been clicking on and off for the last ten minutes, making no move to properly revise and submit the essay lighting up the screen of your laptop. 

Chrissy keeps her voice low, moving to lean down closer to you under the guise of wiping the table beside yours, “The two of you. It’s painful, babe. One of you has to stop making eyes and make the first real move eventually.”

Real. A word you had cursed over a glass of wine with your roommate last night. 

She’d pointed out the way you only liked the idea of your coffee shop boy thus far, how you had yet to introduce yourself to the real him. Which, she was right, of course. It was easiest this way; from a distance, he can be anything you want. He could be your easy Sunday mornings, sleepy smiles over toast and coffee made at home. He could be your tired Thursday evenings, coming straight home from whatever class or shift had wreaked havoc on your mind and right into his arms, popcorn and a movie already waiting for you to decompress over as you told him about your day. He could be a source of comfort on cold nights, a breath of fresh air on warmer mornings. He could be anything, as long as he continued to be just your coffee shop boy. A fruitless crush you’d always observe from across a bustling lobby. Keeping him at an arm’s length kept both of you safe: from disappointment, from complications, from reality. 

“Just because we both come in everyday to use your free wifi and drink your mediocre coffee, doesn’t mean you get to play match-maker when you’re bored,” you try to keep a straight face as you say this, forcing a look of disinterest as Chrissy stares you down. 

Normally, this would be the part where you’d snap at Chrissy that if she was so piqued in her interest with your coffeeshop boy, she could ask him out herself. But he wasn’t Chrissy’s type – the round enamel pin on her apron with a faded, baby pink  background, multiple cats stacked on top of one another in different shades of pink, orange, and white, told you as much. The heart eyes she’d made at the girl that had been here with him the day before confirmed it. 

“Don’t be so pissy,” Chrissy teases, “Or I’ll revoke wifi privileges.” 

“You don’t scare me, Chris.” 

“I should.”

“You’re all bark, no bite,” you scoff, a bit louder than before, and don’t even notice your boy subtly taking one of his earbuds out, fighting to keep his eyes down to the page he’s scribbling on rather than glancing up at your interaction, “And I use bark sparingly, considering your bubblegum pink aesthetic doesn’t exactly scream scary dog.” 

Chrissy grins wider at your words – you’ve never backed down from being brazen with your humor against her. You don’t treat her grossly delicate or thickly lay on fake niceties. You’re genuine. It’s probably a contributing factor to you being her favorite regular.

He snorts, and you just barely catch the echo of the sound, making both you and Chrissy glance in his direction. 

His eyes are glued on his notebook as a blush begins to spread up his neck. You can’t help the shy smile that urges the corners of your mouth upwards. 

Talk to him, Chrissy mouths obnoxiously as she grabs her rag, taking slow and exaggerated steps backwards before she spins, her blonde ponytail bouncing as she speed-walks back behind the counter.

One day, you’ll talk to him. Soon. 

—

Soon comes too soon. Far too soon and far too embarrassing of circumstances. 

One moment, your eyes are glued to the statistics textbook in front of you, laptop set off to the side with your headphones connected in and a study playlist queued up on Spotify. The next, someone’s frappucino is spilling across the pages of numbers and percentages, making you gasp and jump back to no avail. The damage is done – your book is ruined, the front of your shirt is soaked, and all of your handwritten notes are now soggy and unreadable. 

“Oh, shit!” the poor kid who had been the culprit stands before you, stunned and red with embarrassment as his friends quiet their cackling from behind him. It’s clear the group had been rough-housing, and that’s what led to this accident. 

You zero in on a melting glob of whipped cream that settles into the open spine of the textbook, mouth falling agape as tears fill your eyes immediately.

Shit. No. No, no, no. This was a rental. 

None of the younger boys are the one to make a move to help you. The baristas don’t stand a chance, delayed in even noticing the commotion. You’re a statue of bleary vision and panicking breaths as you realize the sticky mess is everywhere, including your laptop. 

Your coffeeshop boy notices immediately. He’d noticed the moment the young boy had lost his balance beside you, was already scooting out his chair and jumping up before the blended coffee had even made contact with your table. 

You come to your senses right around the time he’s at your side, a fistful of napkins, uselessly attempting to save your textbook that was already clearly ruined.

“Ah, fuck,” he whispers as he uses up all the napkins he’d managed to snag, looking up wildly at you, eyes zeroing in on the mess on the front of your shirt. You can’t even relish in the fact that this is the first time you’ve heard his voice so closely; you’re mortified and trembling, still unsure of whether you’re more angry about your textbook, your laptop, or your shirt, “Hey, you okay?” 

Tears. There’s tears streaming down your face, hot with embarrassment and anger and defeat. You think the kid whose drink is now in your lap has been apologizing, but you pay him no mind. 

“Go get cleaned up,” the coffeeshop boy immediately moves out of the way, motioning you out of your seat, towards the bathrooms, “I’ll watch your stuff, try to clean it up some, too.” 

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You’re up in an instant, ignoring the stares of the baristas and the other boys, racing to the back corner of the shop where the two single-person bathrooms reside. You rush into one blindly, trying to calm your erratic heart and the impending panic attack. 

It takes you twelve minutes to do so. Three splashes of cool water to the face, two pep talks about how it “wasn’t that bad”, and another whole minute of blankly staring into the mirror at the baby-hairs that frame your face that are now wet and plastered to your cheeks and forehead alike, just wondering where you’ll come up with the money for your damaged textbook. 

And laptop. It also got on your laptop, son of a bitch.  

You also have to come to terms with the fact that you’d burst into silent tears in the middle of your favorite coffee shop. In front of your coffee shop fantasy crush. You may never recover from that embarrassment, if you’re being honest with yourself.

A small knock comes from the door of the bathroom, forcing you to sigh deeply before gathering up all your composure and broken pride. 

“Yeah?” you ask through the crack, hardly opening the door. 

It’s Chrissy, standing wide-eyed and hopelessly holding two pieces of clothing in her hand, “Okay, so uh, we don’t have any spare shirts here. But… But I have a spare apron? And a spare jacket? I’m sorry, these are awful options.” 

“I…” I’d rather die than wear that apron, or ruin someone’s jacket. “It’s fine, Chris. I’ll probably get going anyways.” 

“But your shirt is all-” she pauses, and you could burst into tears all over again at the way she scrunches her nose so adorably, “-sticky.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“It’ll get all over your car.”

“It’s already all over my stuff. Might as well go big or go home.” 

“I owe you a free coffee now, you know that?” Chrissy’s shoulders finally deflate in defeat, accepting your stubbornness as the winning contender, “Next time you come in, probably tomorrow. Whatever you want. It’s on the house, I sw-”

“Damn, now I wish some twerp spilled their mocha cookie whatever all over me,” it’s him – your coffee shop boy. A boy who came to your rescue, a boy who lives in all your bedtime fantasies, and a boy whose name you still don’t know. Chrissy turns and the two of you both look at him, you opening the bathroom door wider despite your embarrassment. He immediately throws up a hand in surrender, “Sorry, I’m, uh- shit, I’m interrupting. But I just… Uh, well. Okay, this is weird. Really weird. You can ban me if this is too weird,” he turns to Chrissy with wide brown eyes, making her immediately cross her arms across her chest defensively, “Seriously, okay? Say the word, I’ll accept my banishment. I just-”

“What’s behind your back?” Chrissy narrows her eyes. You hadn’t even noticed the boy hiding something, too busy being enamored by his stumbling words and adorable blush. Fuck. You hated it; you hated the fact that everyone was right, and the real him was even more adorable than you could have anticipated. 

He brings his arm out from behind him, and when you see what’s in his clutches, you nearly scream in frustration. 

He’s not just more adorable than the fantasized versions of him you’ve created – he’s more thoughtful, too. It spells out trouble for you and your restless, irrevocably romantic heart. 

“I keep spare shirts in my van,” he explains sheepishly, “I swear it’s clean. It’s for- well, I… It’s for ‘just in case’ situations. Sort of like this one, I guess.” 

Chrissy is quick to take it from him, passing it along to you as she keeps staring him down, “How convenient.”

“Very,” he nearly cowers under her stare, swallowing hard before turning to you, “You don’t have to give it back or anything. You can even burn it, for all I care. It’s just some shirt for… for, uh, some shitty band.” 

You don’t think too much about the comment, just shut the door and leave Chris alone with the coffeeshop boy, silently praying she doesn’t tear into him unnecessarily after the act of kindness. You change shirts, dabbing at your chest with wet paper towels between peeling off your coffee-stained blouse and switching it for your coffeeshop boy’s shirt. 

Corroded Coffin. It’s not a band you recognize, as you read out the jagged writing of the logo across the front of the black t-shirt. The white font pops and you’re already trying to think of an easy segue into maybe discussing whoever this ‘shitty band’ is with coffeeshop boy rather than the mortifying disaster you’d just endured from a group of young teenage boys who knew no better.

But when you leave the bathroom, that group of scoundrels is gone, along with coffeeshop boy. Chrissy wears an apologetic look over the shoulder of a customer she’s taking the order of at the front counter. It does nothing to wear on the sinking feeling of disappointment in your gut, that deflation at realizing he didn’t wait around for you. The customer pays and leaves the counter, and Chrissy almost looks to be expecting you to stop and say something, but you don’t.

You don’t say a single word. Only rush and gather your things off the table, which are surprisingly clean. Coffeeshop boy did a good job.

Too bad you don’t have the chance to tell him. 

Reality, you decide, has something in common with the coffee; it’s always going to end with a bitter bite, no matter how much sweetness you suffocate it with. 

—

You don’t return for several days after Wednesday’s incident. Thursday turns to Friday, Friday bleeds into Saturday, and by the time Sunday rears its ugly head, you’re still wallowing in self-pity. Embarrassment has a way of sinking deep into your bones, and no amount of curling up in the center of your bed will make it fade. You try to sit up at your desk and finish some of the revisions you’d been working on that awful day before wearing some kid’s frappucino, but you can’t focus. The pages of your rental textbook are still sticky, your S and K keys now only work half the time, and you can’t find the right study playlist. The atmosphere is wrong, the vibe is wrong, everything is just wrong. 

At least you hadn’t resorted to wearing Coffeshop Boy’s shirt. You’d thought about it, of course, but you hadn’t hit that low of a point. Not yet, at least. 

Your roommate can’t take it. She insists you get out of the house, simply because your moping is “too fucking sad” to witness. To which you obviously had to retort, “how do you think I feel?”.

So now you’ve been standing outside of your usual Starbucks for five minutes. Squinting like a weirdo through the large, front windows, trying to make out if he was there. Or maybe the ‘twerp’ who had spilled the frappucino. You weren’t looking for a fight – you just needed to avoid every individual who had witnessed the most embarrassing day of your life to date. 

“He’s not here,” a voice suddenly says from behind you. You jump a fraction before spinning and catching sight of one of those damn witnesses: Chrissy, “He never comes in on Sundays. You don’t, either, by the way. What gives?” 

“I’ve come in on Sundays before,” you deflect.

Chrissy laughs, shaking her head, brushing past you with her green apron rolled up into one of her fists, “No, you haven’t. So I’ll ask again,” she pauses, opening one of the front doors and motioning for you to enter first, “What gives?” 

Your feet drag as you walk past her, the lobby eerily quiet. At the very least, she’s right – there’s no sign of your coffeeshop boy. Just some old dude with a newspaper in your usual corner, and a girl with a laptop, seemingly in some sort of video meeting, in coffeeshop boy’s usual spot. 

“No hidden romance there, unfortunately,” Chrissy notices your staring and waves between the patrons. Neither so much as look up, “You and Eddie are our store’s only modern Romeo and Juliet.” 

“Who?” 

“Eddie,” she repeats, watching the realization spread across your face. A smirk appears on her glossy lips as she clarifies anyways, “Your knight-in-shining-armor. The boy you’ve been making heart eyes at for weeks. The dude of your dreams-”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you cut her off, cheeks already warming as you glance again to the girl and the old man. Still no reaction. Your mortification today, it seems, has no audience. 

Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. 

The name thrums through your chest, excitement and a twinge of guilt racing through your veins. 

Your coffeeshop boy’s name is Eddie. 

“I never knew his name,” you whisper quietly, catching yourself staring in the occupied seat that is usually his. “I… Have you known it this entire time?” 

Chrissy shakes her head, “No, I asked him Thursday. You know, the first day of your disappearance.” 

You can’t even process her slight jab at you, or the way she tilts her chin as she waits for a reaction. You’re too busy thinking about Eddie. Eddie, who doesn’t come here on Sundays. Eddie, who keeps spare t-shirts in his van– Eddie, who drives a goddamn van.

He’s suddenly tangible. It’s dizzying. 

“He asked about you, y’know,” Chrissy’s voice is low and you finally glance back to her, “On Thursday. And Friday. He asked about you.”

Eddie, who you’ve been waiting for the day to introduce yourself to. Eddie, who asked about you. 

“What’d he ask? Specifically?” you question, taking a deep breath and trying to clear your thoughts. 

“If you’d been in, if I’d seen you. He even asked for your name.” 

“Did you tell him?” 

“Nope,” she grins, blue eyes sparkling, “I figured I’d give you the honor.” 

It’s on Sunday that you decide the next day you see coffeshop boy, that you see Eddie, it will be the day. It’s only fair that he knows your name now that you know his, after all. 

—

Monday isn’t the day, and neither is Tuesday. You show up to the Starbucks, you take your usual spot, you spend hours studying – Eddie never shows up. Wednesday and Thursday aren’t the days either, filled with finals and celebratory dinners at twenty-four hour diners with friends. 

By Friday, you’re missing your coffeeshop romance terribly. 

But Friday, as it turns out, isn’t quite as unlucky as the rest of the week. You wake up that morning, and you can feel it in your bones; today’s the day. You’ll see Eddie today. You’ll introduce yourself to Eddie today, without a Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappucino soaking your shirt. It’s an acknowledge truth in your bones, maybe even in the stars. Everything is aligning, and you were going to stop spending your days with your head in the clouds. Maybe it would fizz out, and the crush that had kept you on the edge of your seat, that had kept you mildly entertained for months would lead to nothing. But maybe, just maybe, this could be a beginning. A leap of faith into reality that could turn into something real. 

 When you first show up, you don’t see him. It’s during the tail-end of the morning rush that you make your way in, ordering your usual iced coffee and taking your usual seat with the perfect view of Eddie’s usual seat. Customers filter in and out, a line occasionally forming before the baristas take care of it quickly, but not a single person is the one you’re looking for. 

You distract yourself. You busy yourself with pulling out your laptop, glancing over whichever grades have been finalized, pondering over the ones that have yet to be set in stone. Once you’ve beat that horse to death and have nothing left but scholarly anxiety bubbling up, you’ve moved on to making a spreadsheet of all the books you want to read during the summer, with all the free hours you definitely weren’t going to waste, and would totally make use of. You even color code by genre. 

You think you have more fun making the spreadsheet than you will enjoy the actual reading over the novels you listed. 

Just as you’ve finished your iced coffee, ready to move onto looking at goddamn Yahoo news to entertain yourself, a cup is sat down in front of you. A hot grande cup. 

You read the sticker turned towards you before you even spare a glance to the person who’d sat down the drink: a grande Earl Grey tea, sweetened with one packet of honey. 

“Chrissy, I only get this when it’s rain-” you start, assuming the barista would be the one standing over your table. It isn’t. It’s coffeeshop boy – it’s Eddie. You can’t help the curse that falls from your lips, “Oh, shit.” 

“Sorry,” he bites his lip as if holding back a life, hands nervously shoved into the front pockets of his jeans as he rocks on his heels, “I just… I honestly don’t know what you usually get. But your cup was empty when I walked in, and the one time I got here before you, this was the drink you got, but now that I think about it, it was raining that day and that didn’t even cross my mind-”

Your smile is slow as it uncurls, so saccharine and so enamored as you finally cut off his rambling, “Thank you.” 

He doesn’t look reassured in the slightest, paling as he stutters out, “Oh, God. I- I’m a creep for remembering that, aren’t I? Fuck, I’m sorry. I just wanted to do something nice because I know Thursday was so rough-” he cuts off at your subtle wince at the reminder of that entire tragedy, “Sorry. God, how many times can I say sorry, am I right?” 

Eddie, who is absolutely fumbling over rambles like a fool when he approaches you to talk to you first. Eddie, who is quickly shaping up to be better than even your wildest dreams. 

“First of all,” you start, nervously making eye contact, trying to calm your nerves by reminding yourself he’s an even bigger mess than you right now, “You’re not a creep for remembering that. That’s… it’s really thoughtful, actually,” he breaks out into a restrained smile, the smallest glimpse of relief on his face, so you continue, “And second of all… I mean, who knows? Maybe it’ll rain and you saved me some trouble.” 

He lets out a bark of laughter at that, and immediately, all frozen awkwardness around the moment shatters. Whatever pedestal you’d set the boy on the last several weeks has crumbled with ease. Reality comes crashing down, and you relish in it. 

You relish in the golden streaks through his messy curls, and you drown in the richness of his brown eyes, entrancing this close up. You relish in that dimple in his right cheek, deep enough to swallow you whole as he recollects himself. You relish in the fact that he’s here, it’s Friday, and today is the day. 

“There is absolutely rain on the forecast, and you should absolutely just take my word for that and not fact check me,” he jokingly replies, “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“I know,” you blurt out with thinking, and immediately regret it. You can’t tell if the shock on his face is laced with amusement or not and you panic, desperate to defend yourself, “I- Chrissy told me, I swear. I’m sorry, that was weird, I just-”

He’s the one interrupting apologies now, “It’s okay. Can’t be weirder than knowing a stranger’s rainy day coffee order.” 

Grinning. God, you can’t stop grinning, even as you breathe out your name. 

“Sorry?” he asks with furrowed brows, hardly catching on to the whispered reveal.

“That’s my name,” you explain before repeating yourself. His cheeks undoubtedly ache the same way yours do, “Now I’m not a stranger. Makes it less weird.” 

His smile is downright radiant, and oh, God what you’d given to hear him murmur your name under his breath again in that odd, peculiar manner he just did. As if he’s trying it out, tasting it on his tongue and deciding if it’s worth repeating. 

His eyes shine; you have a feeling you will be hearing it again. 

“Say, is this seat taken?” 

You assume he’s meaning the chair across from you, tucked neatly into the table covered in your belongings, and you immediately shake your head to tell him it’s not, motioning for him to join you. 

He wasn’t meaning the chair. He flops himself down beside you on the bench seating, settling into the plastic plush as his thighs brush against yours. 

“So,” he starts, propping his elbow up on the table beside your laptop, resting his chin on his fist,“Tell me about yourself, not-stranger.” 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Everything,” he answers, making your heart clench, “But maybe, let’s just start with your coffee order for days that aren’t rainy.” 

Hours. You and Eddie spend hours talking. The baristas behind the counter rotate, the sun eventually sets, and you don’t even notice when clouds form and light spatters of rain spit out onto the sidewalk outside. You dive headfirst into reality with Eddie, and it’s like the first breath of Spring. 

He wakes you up in a way no shot of espresso ever could. It’s as if something deep inside of you had been sleeping for so long, you’d forgotten it existed until he magically awoke it. Something shining, something wonderful, something new. Something real.

Everyone was right. The tangible Eddie is infinitely better than the idea of coffeeshop boy. 

“You know,” you’ve drained your earl grey, laptop long since closed as your body mirrors Eddie’s and twists until your kneecaps press against each other. His arm rests casually along the back of the seat just over your right shoulder, “I’m still curious who Corroded Coffin is. I know you said they’re shitty, but-”

“Oh, God,” Eddie throws his head back in laughter, running his free hand over his face, “So, uh, funny story.”

You quirk an eyebrow, “Funny story?”

“Yes. Hilarious, actually,” he affirms, “Corroded Coffin is… uh, well… Corroded Coffin is my band.”

You can’t stop the snort, realization dawning on you. That’s why Eddie had the spare shirt in his van – it’s his own damn merch.

“I’m going to pretend you’re laughing with me, not at me,” he hums, leaning back and watching your giggles continue to hit you in waves.

“I am-” you start to reassure, broken off by another gasping laugh that even has him chuckling along, “I am, I swear! I just… Why would you tell me you guys are shitty?” 

“A bad joke,” he hums, waving his free hand, chuckles still lingering at the edge of his tone, “I tend to tell a lot of those around pretty people.” 

Pretty people. He thinks you’re pretty. 

“Yeah?” you choke out, laughter abruptly fading as the realization hits you.

He thinks you’re pretty. 

“Yeah.” 

Oh, God. He thinks you’re pretty. He’s in a band. He remembered the drink you got on a rainy day ages ago (him forgetting the rainy detail can be forgiven because he remembered without even knowing your name). He smells like spice, like everything kind and gentle and warm. It mixes so well with the smell of the coffee already in the air, you wouldn’t have noticed it was his cologne unless you hadn’t spent a better part of the hour leaning in closer and closer to him, the scent getting stronger and stronger. 

Maybe reality can be sweet. Maybe it’s not always bitter. 

“You know, we have a show coming up,” he continues on, tilting his head at you curiously, “Tomorrow night, actually.” 

“You do?” you ask dumbly, not catching on, not yet.

He nods, the corners of his lips curling up, “Yeah. It’s at this venue not far from here, a small bar. It’s not much but it’s an upgrade from where we started…” he trails off, eyes diverting to the wall behind you and across the store, “Uh, you obviously don’t have to… but, I mean, if you’re not busy, I could always add your name to the guest list. It’s no pressure, obviously! I mean, you don’t have to go, it’s just an id-”

“I’d love to,” you stop him with a hand on his knee, grounding him from the returning rambling, “Tell me when and where tomorrow night, and I’ll be there.”

Your heart might just burst. 

“Right,” he seems to still entirely beneath your touch, eyes darting down to where your hand rests, “Yeah. I can write it down for you-”

“Or I could give you my number.”

“Or you could give me your number.” 

You’re both grinning, blushing fools. He takes a second, just staring at you, seemingly in awe, before you have to remove your hand from his knee and put your palm up as a signal for him to hand over his phone. 

He nearly drops it in his flurry to get it into your waiting hand, bouncing his knee the entire time it takes you to put in your contact information. You make a point to add a coffee cup emoji after your name. 

“Hey, guys,” the two of you are suddenly interrupted just as you’re giving his phone back. It’s the barista from last Monday – the new one, the one who’d taken your order when you’d been convinced that would be the day you were going to speak to Eddie. Funny how clueless you had been at the time, “Sorry to interrupt, just wanted to let you guys know that we close in about ten minutes.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie gasps, sitting up straight as he tucks his phone back into his pocket, “Sorry, man. We’re heading out.” 

The new guy’s eyes light up ever so slightly, shrugging off the apology and just nodding with a polite smile. 

You wonder if you’ll even get the chance to break the news to Chrissy. Something tells you she’ll be finding out before you see her again. 

The boy retreats, and you’re quick to grab your laptop and move to shove it into your bag. Eddie stands and waits, unbothered and encouraging you to take your time before you swing the heavy bag over your shoulder. 

Eddie, the boy who’s show you’ll be going to. Eddie, the boy who now has your number. 

You don’t think you’ll ever get sick of his name echoing through your mind. 

“Thank you again,by the way,” you say as you pick up that empty grande cup, turning for the trash, “The tea was good, even though-” 

It’s raining. It’s steadily sprinkling outside, trees shifting with a gentle and stormy breeze. You can tell easily, even with the darkness of the evening having fallen. There’s rogue raindrops racing their ways down the window in front of you. Your reflection stares back faintly, and over your shoulder, you can see Eddie smile shyly. 

“It’s raining,” you murmur. 

“I told you,” Eddie says softly, “It was on the forecast. Also, I might have noticed the clouds building up on the drive over.” 

You turn to face him slowly, heart thumping against your ribs, “Did you… You knew it was my rainy day drink, didn’t you?” 

He blinks once, twice, before swallowing hard and nodding, “I did.” 

“How?”

“I mean, I wasn’t lying. I did hear them call it out that one time. Also, you always have a hot drink especially when it’s raining.” 

He looks like he might pass out from embarrassment, but you just let a grin overtake your features, “Oh?”

“Like I said, it’s creepy. Do I need to apologize again? I can apologize again.” 

Oh, your grin grows. 

“What else did you notice?” 

“Excuse me?”

You shrug, “What else did you notice about me? For example, I’ve always noticed your rings. Also, you listen to your music far too loudly. You’re gonna go deaf one of these days, you know.” 

He melts, color returning back to his features as he realizes you’re not upset or creeped out, “You noticed me before the other day?” 

“I did,” you try to downplay it, keep an even tone as your heart screams, “And it sounds like you noticed me too.” 

A boyish grin and two steps forward, he’s approaching you and evading your space with that warm smell of spice once more. 

“Yeah, I did,” he admits, ears and bridge of his nose alike tinged in a spackling of pink, “I noticed the faces you made whenever you’d work on math homework. And the way you’d cringe every time I turned up my music. And the way Chrissy never stopped teasing you, the same way she’d tease me on the days you weren’t here.” 

“Wow,” you sigh, looking back down at that empty cup. That goddamn empty cup that just revealed to you that he thought of you just as you’d thought of him, “We’re idiots.” 

That feeling that still rings in your bones. No longer just the feeling that today is the day, but that there’s more good things to come. There are lazy Sunday mornings to be had, relaxing Thursday nights to enjoy. There are tangible things to have and to hold in your future, materializing right out of nonsensical ideas you’d clung to just days before.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs in agreement as you toss the cup into the trash, “Yeah, we’re fuckin’ idiots. Don’t tell Chrissy, capiche?” 

Today was the day. Today was just the beginning. 

“Capiche.” 

It’s not until a month later, when you and Eddie come in together on one of your slow Sunday mornings, that Chrissy gets her I told you so moment. After the shock of seeing her two favorite customers on a Sunday, of course.

[grahstumhurts]

2. Putting it into gear

Cheerleader!Megan x Loser Band Member!Reader

A/N Not proof read lol so it might have some weird wording and shit.

Rekindling Masterlist

The late May air is starting to feel slightly humid and hot as it usually does by this time, Megan's waiting outside. Leaning on the side of the school fence looking effortlessly beautiful as she does.

“Hey” you greet her, “What did you need to talk about?” She looks up from her phone, then looks around behind you to see if people are watching.

“Look, I owe you an apology and-” 

“That's an understatement.” You cut her off. “Two years of ignoring me should get me something better than an apology”

“Just hear me out” 

She looks you in the eyes, Her pupils glistening with the caramelised apple colour it's always been.

“Please,” 

“Fine” You cross your arms in anticipation “You gonna tell me or what?”

“I need to fake date you, for friendship reasons I guess.” Obviously that stuns you, A girl you had a crush on for the past ten years of your life is suddenly asking you to fake date her. 

“What?” Your face contorts in a mix of surprise and confusion “Why me?”

“You're the only gay person I know, I’m trying to come out to them and they won't believe me till I date someone who fits their “Gay” vision” She sighs, her face portrays her obviously conflicted emotions. “Look its okay if you won't do it, You don't owe me anything especially since i abandoned you but at least sleep on it for me.”

She pauses, trying to read your face, noticing the slight differences in your eyes.

“I also needed to say sorry, I wasn't there when I promised I would be.” 

“I wont accept your apology for now, you need to earn my trust back, Megan.”

 You sigh at the dilemma, do you chose to help her with her fake dating thing, or do you leave her behind. 

“I’ll help you under one condition, We will stay friends afterwards.” 

You expect her to say no, the wavering tone in your voice saying so.

“Thank you so much, seriously I appreciate this. I owe you, N/n” She hugs you, Her scent lingering of fresh citrus and light berries. Her arms wrap around your waist, you instinctively wrap your arms around her shoulders.

“We need to figure out a plan for this whole situation.” You comment as you two break the hug, still feeling the lingering warmth of her. 

“Are you free this week to meet up?” 

“Tuesdays and Thursdays I meet up with my band, any other day we can meet up after school.”

“How about wednesday? I have practice, can you come watch and we can go somewhere after?” The thought of her friends seeing you makes your skin crawl as your reputation with these “Popular” people is not exactly great. Considering that you and Lara are the ones who stand up to Greg when he feels the need to degrade Yoonchae. You may or may not have gotten into some physical altercations with said Greg. 

“Sure, It’ll sell the idea that we are dating a bit more,” It’s a trade off that is worth it to make Megan happy. You shrug just as her phone rings, Her ringtone was not the same as the one you had remembered her to have. It had been her favourite song, Perfect Lover by Britney Spears. But now it's one of those default ones, Removing some of the personality from her.

“Yeah?"

"Oh, Okay."

"I’ll see you soon, Mom. Love you bye”

You can vaguely hear her moms voice throughout the quick phone call, her familiar tone isn't something you can forget easily. 

“You gotta go I assume?” you pick at your nails, “I can walk you home if you want?” You look up to her, trying to gauge her reaction through her body language. “Unless you dont want me to.. You know what forget i even said-”

“NO!” She suddenly cuts you off mid sentence “I mean, No” She clears her throat repeating her affirmation in a softer tone, “it’d be nice for my mom to see you again, She used to ask me about you all the time.” She presses her lips into a line, her face covered with embarrassment. 

“Lead the way,” You slightly smile at the thought that her mom still wondered where you had been all this time, She starts walking in the direction of her house. Making small talk to catch up on each others lives during the two years of absence, Your hands brushing together as you walk on the pavement.

“I missed you, you know that right?”

The smallness in her voice juxtaposes her usually large demeanour.

“I hoped you did,”

You chuckle slightly,

“I missed you too.”

“This is me,” she stops in front of the house you used to know, “You wanna stay for dinner? I mean you don't have to or anything.”

“Sure, It’ll be nice to say hi to your mom.” She leads you into her house, The recognisable scent of her moms cooking wafting into your nostrils. Filling your senses with memories of years prior. “Do we have to fake date in front of your mom aswell?” You tease her, Slipping off your shoes.

“Yeah, I guess so..” She replies nervously, just as her Mom wraps around the corner from the kitchen. “Hey, I brought home a special someone.” 

“Oh my gosh, YN! I didn't realise you were coming tonight for dinner.” She embraces you in a warm hug. “Feels like I haven't seen you in forever.” She lightly jabs at Megan with her elbow. 

“Just been busy with school work and college applications, you know how it is.” You lightly giggle at Megan’s mom’s actions. “Glad to see you Mrs. Skiendiel”

“Oh please, Yn. You know not to call me that, Just aunty is okay.” 

-

“Wow aunty, this is seriously delicious.” You moan as you wolf down the rice and pork on your plate. “I'm grateful that your cooking skills haven't deteriorated in the period I haven't seen you” You say in between bites.

“Im happy you like it, feel free to come over and eat when you want to, Honey” She chuckles

“Uhm Mom, We have something to talk about with you.” Megan’s words shift the energy at the table. You swallow your latest bite and glance at Megan, Giving her a reassuring look. 

“You guys are dating? I know, it's not that much of a shock.” Aunty takes the words out of Megan's mouth, “I've been patiently waiting when you two would realise your feelings for eachother. I have a standing bet with your mom, Yn.” She matter-a-factly comments,

“No funny business in my house alright?” 

“Yes aunty, I don't plan on doing anything with Megan till she's ready. Don't worry”

You try to clear the air quickly, Megan grabs your hand on the table. Interlocking her fingers with your ring clad ones, The slightly cold metal meeting her warm skin. The embarrassment of your words settling in with the two of you.

“I wouldn't dare hurt Megan, I hope you know that aunty.” You stupidly grin at her.

“I know, Yn. Just double checking, I know how you teenagers can be.” She lets out a deep sigh of relaxation. “I have some work to do. all I need you guys to do is the dishes, can you two handle that?” She squints her eyes at us, 

“Yeah, dont worry about it, Mom.” Megan stands and starts clearing the plates from the table, You follow her actions grabbing plates and silverware and bringing them to the sink in the kitchen. 

“I’ll be in the office working if you need me, Good night you two.” Megan’s Mom announces before the door closes.

“Oh my god i swear that was the most awkward i've been with your mom in forever.” You let out a deep sigh as you lean against the kitchen counter, Megan places down the rest of the dishes.

“Yeah no that was really awkward.” She giggles “Yes aunty i don't plan on doing anything with Megan till she's ready” She mockingly says in your tone of voice. You shove her shoulder lightly. 

“Come on lets finish the dishes, I rinse, you dry?” You stand over the sink, turn on the sink and scrub the dinner plates with a soapy sponge.

“Mhm, sounds like a solid plan” She hums, picking up the drying towel from the towel rack as you start to hand her some rinsed dishes. You cheekily smile to yourself as you get a devious idea. Megan is suddenly met with a warm splash of water from the sink head

“You did not just do that” She looks at you astonished, Mouth agape. “You little shit, Yn” 

“Such hurtful words require punishment” You giggle as you spray her with more water,

“What the fuck!” She squeals, feeling the water soak her shirt, “that's not fair, i don't have a sink to spray you too.” Suddenly it seems as Megan gets an idea for your payback.

“Come here, YN. Give me, your girlfriend, A hug. why don't you?” 

“No! I'm not gonna hug you, Meg. You gotta catch me first.” She roars with laughter as she chases after you in the kitchen. 

“Im gonna get you!” She loudly shouts, Running you into the corner of the kitchen.

“I’ve got you trapped now don't i?” She pants.

“I guess so, And what are you gonna do about it?”

You tease her, She pulls you into a wet hug “Eughhhh, it's so cold” You groan feeling her damp top spread the water on your shirt. She pulls away, Snickering at the sight of your now also damp shirt, 

“You get what's coming for you.”

“Can i atleast borrow a shirt or something?” You pull your shirt away from your chest to unstick it from your skin.

“Yeah, Come on. Let's go upstairs and dry off.” She grasps her hand with yours, Her nails graze your wrist. She drags you up the stairs into her room. You stare in awe, It looks similar to when you were last here but different at the same time.

“You took down the BTS posters?” You take a glance at her as she rummages through her closet for two shirts.

“Figured it was time to grow up i guess” She sighs and pulls out the shirts. 

“You sure it wasnt just your new friends pressuring you? Not that it really matters honestly, just curious.”

“Yes its fine, seriously, YN. I dont get whats your problem is right now, they were just posters.” She throws a purple oversized shirt at you.

“Just asking, No offence and all that” You exhale deeply, “Should i go to the bathroom and change or?” She just nods and you take that as your sign to leave the room.

You reenter the room and she's laying on her bed, Phone in hand. You knock on the door frame, she glances up then pats the side of the bed for you to sit down.

“Sorry by the way. Its not really my place to ask those types of questions.” You sit on the end of her bed.

“Its okay, I'm sorry too by the way. I overreacted a tad.” You observe as she hesitates to interlock hands, You take action as you interlock your pinkies together. 

"I guess i realized how much you've changed. And i guess i wasn't ready to fully realize it." You lay next to her, Brushing shoulders.

[rogueshadeaux]

The show, the NCR, and me defending their timeline

If you know, you know. SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. Do not read if you haven't seen the show in its entirety. Stamped and immediately published so if you see spelling mistakes, no u don't

Now, the tv show did absolutely fuck up the fact that they didn't put a date under the blast, but you need to realize that Lucy and Maximus both lived in Shady Sands as children! The blast itself couldn't have been in 2277.

Especially when the show is set in 2296.

Now following this, in the show, Maximus/The show calls Shady Sands the first capitol of the NCR. I believe this correlates to the 'fall of Shady Sands' to say not that the NCR is irrelevant, but that something happened along the way for the NCR to essentially lose its hold on the city. The fall of an empire takes longer than a day. And events like that are labeled in hindsight! It wasn't the 'fall of Rome' to the Romans, it was a buildup to the world's shittiest Tuesday. We know it as the Fall of Rome.

The Vaulties know it as the Fall of Shady Sands.

The question is; what did the city fall to? Fact of the matter is that the NCR was already showing signs of being overtaxed with the First Battle of Hoover Dam. They lost a prison to some basic ass gang, and a good 100 men in the fight to reclaim it. They didn't pursue the Legion after the battle and could have done numbers to the faction. There's a very good chance that something happened very fast and very violently to make the NCR lose its hold on Shady Sands. They’re not retconning New Vegas, they’re giving us mapped out teasers to the truth! That’s why 'The Fall' starts in 2277. It begins with Hoover Dam.

New Vegas doesn't happen till 2281. Lucy and Maximus are both early 20s, and were at least 5 and at most 8 when Shady Sands was nuked. 15 years have passed since New Vegas and 19 since the alleged bomb! They would have to have been younger for the bomb to happen before the game. It's very plausible that the events happened post-game, and do not retcon NV at all.

In the end, we won't know the truth till next season, but I think there's a reason the writers both inserted Shady Sands and the NCR conversation into the story; its going to become very relevant, very quickly. House is in the show, for goodness sake, at that same round table Bud is. There's a reason Hank ran to NV. They're going to have to address the events, and we are going to get answers.

EDIT TO ADD: this is a tweet from Emil Pagliarulo, designer at Bethesda:

And Bethesda/Todd okayed or vetoed every choice and plot point in the television show as they’re also making another Fallout game, and have plans for the events in that. Todd wouldn’t have nuked their best selling game. I wouldn’t be surprised if we get a statement from him sometime this week because of the blowback regarding the blackboard.

It’ll be fine.

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

Idk what this is

A chapter snippet/word blob that came out of my brain I guess idk if it’ll be in the Final Cut.

The star’s smile vanished as he looked at her with…scrutiny?! Oh she was in for it now wasn’t she? “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the slanderous wicked poor-visioned miss skeptic, come to kick a man while he’s still down. Have you?” He said in a scolding manner that Asha wasn’t quite sure was serious or joking.

“Not unprovoked,” she huffed as she crossed her arms. “And my vision is fine…you’re just salty that I completely annihilated you.”

“Salty? My dear we were on a boat in the middle of that ocean and neither sea nor person was as salty as you. The ocean Asha! THE OCEAN!” He exclaimed as a few crows cawed in surprise before taking off.

“I wasn’t salty!” She protested. It…it was true! Sure she’d been feeling…off but to say that she’d been salty was just wrong! Right?

Unfortunately for her the star didn’t seem to back down as he smiled, slowly walking towards her as he asked her slowly, “Really? So why couldn’t you take your eyes off me?”

She hadn’t realized just how close he’d gotten until he’d rested his hand on the wall next to her head. His finger patiently tapped its stone surface with a dark sharp nail. She couldn’t. Wouldn’t take her eyes off him, not when he was practically in front of her.

Tap tap.

As satisfying as it had been to silence the star, she had to admit that in hindsight it was somewhat foolish. He was a star, a being of otherworldly power and temperaments with secrets that had been the reason why the doomsday clock had started ticking once more.

Sure he was her friend, but he was also an alien! And she’d do well to remember that when it came to possibly testing his temper. “I was watching everyone. Not just you,” she lied with as much calm as she could. “Kind of have to given how we were both attacked by hooded assassins, who could literally be anywhere or anyone don’t you think?”

Tap. Tap.

Now even the crows were watching with a little less friendly anticipation than they had the first time Asha had met them.

“Fair enough,” the star shrugged as he took a step back just as Asha remembered to breathe. Whoa did he actually buy that?! “Paranoia is a usual effect of your first assassination attempt. But after the first thirty or so it’ll just feel like another Wednesday-,” he promised as Corvias landed on his shoulder once more. “Or was it Tuesday?” The surrounding crows shrugged as he scratched his head. “I don’t think I have a very good track of time. But that might just be my insanity talking.” He paused, looking at her as Corvias readjusted herself on his shoulder. “What were we talking about again?”

“Uhh,” Asha paused nervously looking from him to the crowd of children before nodding, “you agreed to help me!”

“Asha you are such a bad liar,” the star disapprovingly shook his head.

“You’re saying that like it’s a bad thing!” She protested.

“It could be, especially if you’re not an inherently honest person either,” he huffed while crossing his arms.

She sighed. Now she could see it. Defeat and the end of her sanity, lingering on the horizon as she’d grumbled, “Don’t get mouthy with me Cepheus, I need your help with the children! This is for the children! I want them to have fun! Don’t you want to have fun?”

[slytherinshua]

COOKING WITH PRINCE

genre. fluff. crack. warnings. obv this wouldn't happen irl it's all just for fun <3 i tried to emulate prince's captions in his videos as best i could, as well as his overall vibe but i am just a new ghostie so sry if its a bit inaccurate :( pairing. prince x fem!reader. wc. 720. request. requested by @haecien, here: cooking w prince even if he doesn't get the recipe a/n. mwahaha so ofc i had to start writing for ghost9 babies someday and prince was a good place to start esp since his cooking videos are absolutely amazing (go show them a lot of love if you haven't already as well as prince's (and all of ghost9's) instagram!!!) and stan ghost9 obv

you didn’t plan on crashing your boyfriend’s solo baking fest in the practice room on a random tuesday afternoon

you weren’t even used to the prospect of your boyfriend cooking

for the years you’ve been dating Prince, you have done 100% of the baking in the relationship (though you had always urged him to try it out since it was fun)

ever since his videos have been doing better than anyone could have predicted, he’s been excited to make something with whatever he had on his hands

from the usual baking ingredients along with several very overripe bananas, you could easily tell what he was planning to bake today: banana bread, one of your favourites 

but also knowing your boyfriend, you knew things would probably turn into a disaster if he didn’t have a recipe

so naturally the first thing you asked was to see the recipe he was following

“I swear I had one somewhere when I was gathering the ingredients, but I literally can’t find it.”

he just brushed off your concerns about him possibly poisoning himself, you, and the ghost9 members

“The last time I baked, I didn’t even follow the recipe because it was in cups. It’ll be fine, baby, you just need to have faith.”

you were planning to leave and let him film in peace, but your boyfriend was persistent that you stay especially because he was making one of your favourite baked goods

you relented easily, really it was hard to say no to him, plus the prospect of baking together seemed kind of fun!

more like a chaotic disaster…

most of it was spent playfully arguing over how much of each ingredient to put in

Prince seemed insistent that you should remember exactly how much of every ingredient for him to measure down to the gram

obviously, you didn't, and eventually you stopped trying to help completely and just let him do his thing

though you did stay behind him to supervise, and your hands were visible in the final video messing with his hair and occasionally giving him a loving slap tap on the cheek when he messed something up

once the banana bread was finally in the oven, the two of you joked about what the voiceover should be

you didn't have the highest expectations for how it tasted, but you knew it would at least be pretty good

all the things your boyfriend had cooked in the past had been decently delicious

it turned out pretty well, and you were happy you were there to annoy him help him with it

bonus: what I think the voiceover would be like

welcome back to cooking in the practice room 🧑‍🍳 until I get busted by my manager 🚨👮 today we have a very special guest joining us 👀🥁✨my girlfriend✨ that’s right 😍 us idols 🧑‍🎤🎤 are actually in relationships 😘 despite what most people want to believe! tbh my girlfriend was not 🙅‍♂️ supposed to be joining me today 😔 but we’re making banana bread 🍌🍞 which happens to be her favourite 😍‼️ so I just had to let her join 🤷‍♂️ as you probably know if you watched my chocolate stuffed coffee bun 🍫☕ video, I don’t bake… but my girlfriend does 🎉 I had a recipe for this, but I think peter got hungry 😋 and ate it or something, so no recipe 📄🚫 but again, at least I have my girlfriend 💃 so it should be fine, right? she’s made this hundreds 👩‍🏫 of times 🧑‍🍳🍞 (she’s literally a minion guys idk why she loves bananas so much 🍌⁉️) but despite that she is still somehow clueless 🤓 as to how much flour I should be measuring 😍 but it’s fine 👌 we just dumped sugar 🍭 flour ❕ butter 🧈 bananas 🍌 eggs 🥚 and baking powder into a bowl 🥣 and hoped that they would magically ✨🧙 turn into banana bread 🤔 and guess what 🧐 they did ✨😍 I also added chocolate 🍫 because my girlfriend materialized it out of nowhere 💁‍♀️🍫 I have no one but my girlfriend to thank 😚 for distracting me by pulling on my hair 💆‍♂️ and telling me I was doing it wrong every 2 minutes 😘 but jokes 👎 on her because this banana bread was delicious even without a recipe 😏 10/10 would bake again 🥸

↳ ghost9 taglist: @haecien,, @eternalgyu,, @weird-bookworm,,

[alanjeffbrainrot]

Bending the Rules pt. 1

CW: Student/Teacher AU, eventual smut, minors dni

A/N: idk why im obsessed with this concept. It’s also a soulmate AU cause I’m a slut for alanjeff true mate shit. Enjoy 😌

Word Count: 4.5K

Find it on AO3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~ To read pt. 2

My masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alan takes a different path earlier in life and ends up becoming a college professor. Jeff walks into the first day of class and sits at the very edge of the room, away from all the other students. Alan notices him on day one and doesn’t understand why he’s so intrigued by this new student.

A few days into class Babe (also a prof at the university, he started 4 years after Alan and they became fast friends. Lots of students think they’re dating because of how close they are) pulls him aside to mention that “Jeff, the kid in your Tuesday/Thursday class ? That’s the kid we’ve all been talking about, he’s going places”.

Confused, Alan casts a glance over at Babe murmuring that he wouldn’t be convinced until Jeff says something. Literally anything.

“Oh, that’s just how he is, don’t worry too much about it.” Babe shrugs it off but something about the boys nature still bothered Alan. Why was he so quiet, he thought to himself, and what will it take to get him to talk to me.

Why this mattered so much to Alan he wasn’t sure, but he vowed to keep an eye on the omega and see if he could get him to crack one day.

As the class continues Alan discovers that the Babe’s comments rang true. Jeff was truly remarkable. Just after midterms Alan calls Jeff to his desk, asking him to wait to speak with him.

“You’re the best student I’ve had Jeff and I just happen to be losing my TA after this semester, graduation and all” Alan chuckles. “Would you consider taking the position ?”

Jeff looks conflicted and quietly says he’ll think about it (the most he has said to Alan this whole semester, making Alan’s alpha puff up its chest). Alan nods and says he’ll check in again in a few days before waving Jeff off, wishing him a good day.

A week goes by, still no answer from Jeff and Alan is stressed. He feels like he’s going crazy, anytime he sees Jeff on campus he has to keep himself from bombarding the boy. Maybe he just doesn’t want to do it ? Alan thinks to himself. He’s about to start his senior year, lots of students turn down TA positions.

Babe, who’s usually next to Alan when they run across the little omega, is beginning to notice his strange reactions. Alan stands straighter and can barely keep his eyes focused in front of him, always glancing over to watch Jeff walk by them. The worst part being Alan’s pheromones, subtly being pushed out a tad stronger when the shorter is nearby, a fact that probably hasn’t even registered with Alan yet. Babe doesn’t say anything, just observing his friend become smitten like he never has before.

To Alan’s surprise, however, the next class Jeff is in he walks up to Alan and quietly mutters “I’ll do it”.

“Oh ! Oh my god, okay, yeah. Awesome” Alan stutters. God, why am I acting like a flustered school boy. Realizing Jeff is still staring at him, Alan shakes himself out of his thoughts. “I’ll email you the requirements and the application. You’ll send a copy to me and to student services. If you need any help just let me know !”

Jeff just nods before walking out of the classroom, leaving Alan a confused and flustered mess. And that’s the moment his alpha decides to complicate the situation. (For years Alan had kept that part of himself under lock and key, getting very good at not listening to his instincts.) Mine his alpha growled as if trying to break out of a cage, that omega is mine.

Alan is appalled at his own thoughts, vowing to keep himself together and not cross any lines. He wouldn’t even be interested Alan reasons with himself, it’ll be fine.

What Alan doesn’t know, is Jeff is having the same battle with himself. He had never touched the alpha (he had gotten very good at never touching anyone at this point) but just before beginning Alan’s class he had grabbed his brother, Charlie, by the wrist. And, unfortunately, it triggered a vision. One in which a tall, sophisticated, older alpha just happened to be hanging off of Jeff’s arm. It was a small point, insignificant in the grand scheme of the vision which was centered around Charlie, but it had shaken Jeff to the core. Who was this alpha and why on earth would Jeff let him touch him ??

When Jeff walked into class the first day he had kept his head down, a habit to ensure nobody spoke to him before or after classes. But when he finally popped his head up and looked at the professor at the beginning of class he had to keep himself from sprinting out of the classroom.

There, in front of him, was the alpha from his vision. No way, Jeff had thought, there’s absolutely no way. That vision had to be incorrect, a fluke.

The day Alan asked him to TA, jeff panicked, leaving campus and driving straight to speak with Charlie. When he gets in front of his brother he realizes he has no clue how to breach this topic.

“You remember that vision I had just before the semester ?” He starts with. When Charlie nods he takes a deep breath and continues, “I didn’t tell you everything….. the vision was about you” Jeff emphasizes, “but…. Next to me……. Was this alpha, someone I hadn’t met before.”

“Oh ?” Charlie said surprised, eyes going wide, “Why didn’t you tell me before ? What’s the problem ? Probably someone we’ll meet in the future.”

“Well….” Jeff trails off, not sure which topic he should begin with, “in the vision I was letting this alpha hug me ? Kind of, he was holding my arm like he was hugging a pole. But I didn’t seem bothered by it”

Jeff is interrupted by Charlie squealing, “YOU GET A BOYFRIEND IN THE FUTURE OH MY GOD !”

“Charlie !” Jeff huffs, hitting his brother on the shoulder to get him to quiet down. “You know my visions aren’t always absolute. And I really think this one can’t be true. There’s no way !”

“What, you don’t think an alpha will want you ? Come on jeff, you’re a catch.”

Jeff glares at Charlie but he just smiles back, sincere as ever. “It’s not that, jackass. It happens that I met the alpha when the semester began. But….”

“But” Charlie drags out, “what, is he an asshole or something ?”

“No ! No, hes… he’s the nicest person I’ve ever met. Gentle and so smart” jeff abruptly shuts his mouth. What am I saying he thinks to himself shaking his head before looking up at Charlie, who’s wearing a shit eating grin.

“You LIKE HIM” he teases, “so again I ask, what’s the problem ?”

“Umm…” Jeff looks down, not wanting to see Charlie’s face when he admits this. “He’s my professor” he whispers.

“Oh, okay that really could be a problem” Charlie says, tone nothing but understanding. “But you graduate next year right ? Just avoid him until then and let fate decide once you’re not a student anymore.”

“Well, he kind of asked me to be his TA next year. And I feel like I have to do it. I could learn a lot from him and it would look really good on my resume. Ive seen the places his past TA’s have gotten hired. This could give me a huge advantage getting into a garage Charlie.” Jeff looks up at his brother who seems to weighing what he has just told him.

After a few hours of discussion jeff came to the decision that he would accept the position and just keep his distance as much as he could. I Can do this he thought to himself, I just have to keep my guard up until I graduate.

Jeff didn’t understand why his omega, on the other hand, was resisting this wholeheartedly. Begging him to get as close to the alpha as he could. He’ll be ours soon enough his omega taunts him, just you wait.

Much to his omegas (and Alan’s) annoyance, Jeff goes back to ignoring the alpha. He keeps his head down, scurrying in and out of class without sparing a single glance at Alan. Even during class when Alan would look over, Jeff would avoid his gaze and only look back up when Alan had directed his attention elsewhere. Alan was losing his mind.

Two weeks before the semester ended, Alan was sitting at his desk, neck deep in grading assignments. Babe walks through the door, nose wrinkling at the heavy pheromones in the room. “God lung, what’s got you so stressed.”

Alan glares at Babe, laying his own down and leaning back in his chair. “Unlike some people, I have papers to grade. And more coming soon for finals. So, do you need something or can I get back to work ?”

“Not my fault you don’t teach a practical course” babe shrugs, walking further into the room and leaning on a desk in the front row.

“Someone has to teach the textbooks” Alan sighs. It’s always around this time he wishes he had Babe’s job, teaching practical, hands on classes in the on-campus garage. “Seriously though, did you need something ?”

“Yes, actually. I heard about your TA for next year.”

Alan furrows his brow, “Jeff ? Why, you were right. The kid’s going places.”

Babe nods, crossing his arms and leveling his gaze with Alan. “That’s true but… are you sure you know what you’re doing ?”

Babe’s delicate tone leaves Alan even more confused. “What do you mean? I’ve had TA’s for years and I think he would be great. A little quiet but that’s not a problem.”

Sighing, Babe looks down. “Lung, i'm going to be honest with you. Do you have any idea how you act around him ? You get nervous, you stare at him. God, I’m the only one that would notice but you push your pheromones out !”

“I don’t-“ Alan trails off, not sure how to defend himself.

“Look, it was fun to watch you get all flustered around him. If the circumstances were different I would absolutely be pushing you to ask him out. But… he’s your student, you know ? You just need to be careful.” Babe finishes, glancing back up at Alan to gauge his reaction.

Alan, though embarrassed for being called out, begins nodding. “No, no you’re absolutely right. I’ll keep myself in check, Babe, you don’t have to worry. Besides, Jeff has gone back to ignoring me so I don’t think there will be much of an issue.”

Babe nods, giving Alan an encouraging smile. “Good luck with the grading, lung. Let me know if you need anything.” Babe says before turning and walking out of the room. Leaving Alan to contemplate what he has gotten himself into.

The semester ends with no incident, both Alan and Jeff trying to keep their distance but neither handling it very well. Jeff spends more time with Charlie, desperately trying to push down his feelings despite a lingering feeling of sadness. Alan, on the other hand, is just frustrated.

He spent the last two weeks in an annoyed huff, everything seemingly setting him off. He tried his best, he really did, but each time he has to watch the omega hurry out of the classroom a piece of him is screaming to follow. To not let him go.

The second day of the summer vacation (neither Babe or Alan teach summer classes) Babe let’s himself into Alan’s house and immediately is smacked with rut pheromones.

“Shit” Babe curses, covering his mouth and nose with his hand. “Lung !” He shouts into the house, “Do you need anything ? I can drop it outside !”

A pained groan is heard from the other side of the house before Alan drags himself into view. He’s flushed, sweaty, and looks absolutely worse for wear.

“You look like death Lung” Babe says, scanning the alpha in front of him.

“I feel like it” Alan says from the top of the stairs, scrubbing his hand down his face and sighing. “I don’t know why it’s hitting me so hard. It hasn’t been this bad since I presented.”

Alan gets himself together enough to relay a list of supplies he needed. Babe leaves quickly after getting the list, Alan’s heavy pheromones giving him a headache.

Alan makes his way back to his bedroom, peeling his sweaty t-shirt off before throwing himself on his bed. He’s overheating, fire-like arousal licking through his veins. He kicks his pants and underwear off, hand snaking down and grasping his cock.

“Fuck” Alan breaths out. He begins stroking himself, bringing his hand up to gather the precum leaking out of the tip to make the glide easier. He squeezes his eyes shut just trying to focus on the pleasure, bringing his other hand down to squeeze at the rapidly forming knot at the base of his cock.

As he gets closer to his release, his mind starts providing images of a faceless omega propped on his lap, back facing him as he bounced up and down on Alan’s cock. Alan groans at the image and speeds his hand up. “Just like that baby” he mutters, everything in him wishing the image was real.

The omega in his mind leans back, turning his head towards Alan and suddenly he realizes the image is of Jeff. A sob is forced out of Alan as he cums suddenly, Jeff’s name on his lips. He strokes himself through his orgasm, slowly coming back down to earth. When he realizes what he just did he groans, rolling over and shoving his face into his pillows, embarrassed enough to ignore the sticky release still on his stomach that’s now going to be on the sheets below him.

God Alan, he thinks to himself, what the fuck am I going to do.

Unbeknownst to the alpha, across town a very similar situation is occurring in Jeff’s apartment. He had called Charlie, panicked because his heat hit him early. For most people that wouldn’t be too strange, maybe a change in cycle, but Jeff had just gone through heat a month before.

When charlie got to the apartment to drop things off (Jeff had a tendency to not plan for heats and would surely starve himself to death if charlie didn’t deliver a bag of water and snacks each day) Jeff was curled up in bed. Crying.

“Woah, Jeff, are you okay?” Charlie said delicately, trying not to spook the omega.

“Hurts” Jeff wails out, clearly lost in his omega headspace, “need alpha.”

Charlie freezes. It doesn’t matter how many heats Jeff had gone through, he had never let himself slip fully into his omega headspace and he certainly has never asked for an alpha.

“Alpha ? Who’s…” charlie trails off, not expecting to get an answer from the clearly distressed omega (and if he’s being honest, unsure if he truly wants to know).

He waits a few moments before Jeff finally looks at him, eyes red with tears streaming down his face. “Alan” he sniffles, “please. I need alpha.”

Charlie just looks at him confused, not remembering anyone in their lives named Alan. But then it hits him. He had been helping Jeff with the TA application and had noticed the alphas name, Alan, printed at the bottom. Alan, the same alpha who was in Jeff’s vision from months ago.

“Fuck” Charlie cursed after putting the pieces together. “Jeff, bud I need you to listen to me” Charlie says, trying to figure out the most delicate way to put this. “Alan… can’t be here with you.”

This just distressed the omega more, a new round of tears begin falling as Jeff’s scent sours even more. The small omega buries himself further into his nest as sobs racked his body. Charlie sighs, knowing there’s nothing he can do to ease his brothers mind. He decides to leave the room and camp out in the living room. He doesn’t usually stay but Charlie doesn’t have the heart to leave him so distraught.

Jeff’s heat breaks 5 days later, substantially longer than any heat he's ever had. When he finally drags himself out of his bedroom he curls up on the couch next to Charlie. His eyes are still red, occasional tears escaping and dripping down his face. Charlie is worried to say this least.

“You okay?” He finally asks. Jeff refuses to look at him, just curling further in on himself while sniffling.

After a minute a quiet “no” is heard from Jeff, voice scratchy. A second passes before another round of sobs wracks Jeff’s body, “I don’t know what’s happening to me Charlie.”

Charlie hums, reaching a hand out to card his fingers through Jeff’s hair. The omega presses into the hand, desperate for any type of comfort he could get in the moment. “Let yourself cry, I’ll be here as long as you need.”

And Jeff does just that. He moves slightly to lay his head in his brother's lap and cries. “Why do I miss him” he manages to get out, “it feels wrong not having him around.”

“Alan?” Charlie asks, already knowing the answer. Jeff just nods, flipping over so he can bury his face in Charlie’s stomach. Charlie chooses not to press the topic and just comforts the small and broken omega in his lap.

The next day Jeff runs Charlie out of his apartment, wanting to be alone. The only reason Charlie agrees is an agreement that jeff would call that night to check in. Jeff curls up in bed as soon as Charlie leaves, his heart aching.

He would never admit this to Charlie but part of the reason his heat took so long to break this time was because he refused to do anything, touching himself feeling wrong even in the worst of it. He craved Alan in a way he had never experienced with anyone before, his omega set on the idea that either the alpha would be touching him or no one at all.

“God” he groans, rubbing his eyes, “next year is going to be rough.”

And rough it was. Up until the first day of class, Alan and Jeff had been communicating through email, both men managing to make up excuses to avoid seeing the other in person (and neither feeling strong enough to control themselves if they were to meet up alone).

Alan was nervously pacing in this classroom, chewing on his thumb and just trying to calm his nerves when Babe walks in. “Woah, lung calm down. Everything’s gonna be fine” he says, grabbing Alan by the shoulders and guiding him to his desk chair. Once the older man and sat down babe walks around the seat to perch himself on a desk in the front row.

Alan looks up at his best friend, contemplating how to explain the complicated flurry of anxiety and excitement he was feeling. “This is either going to go really well or really bad, babe.” He lands on, sighing and leaning back in his chair.

“Well, just don’t do anything stupid and it shouldn’t be an issue” babe shrugs, crossing his arms.

Alan glares at him, “I’m not going to-“

Alan is cutoff by the door opening, the small omega walking in with his head down. Alan’s breath hitches, okay, he thinks, this is it. When jeff finally looks up he looks straight at Alan, their eyes locking as causing jeff to freeze.

Babe, immediately noticing the fact that neither man was moving to speak, looked over at jeff, “how was your summer?”

Not realizing there was another person in the room, jeff jumps and whips his head around to babe, “oh umm, good. I guess.” he stammers out, glancing between both men in front of him.

Babe hums out a “good” before fixing Alan with a very pointed gaze, “alright lung. I’m going to head to the garage. Have a good first day”

Alan nods, eyes shifting to babe long enough to wish him the same before they settle back on Jeff. Babe rolls his eyes before making his way out of the classroom, already knowing damn well that Alan’s promise to not do anything stupid would really only last so long.

The click of the door closing behind babe seemed to shake Alan out of his trance, smiling at the omega. He quickly explains to Jeff what his day to day tasks would be before they both start working in silence, neither totally sure how to speak with the other.

They carry on like that for the first two months of the semester, dancing around each other and spending no more time than necessary together. Alan gets jeff to talk a little bit, learning about his brother Charlie and Jeff’s goals after graduation, but it never goes further than surface level. Both men feel a pull towards each other, their bodies and minds seemingly linked in a way neither fully understood.

When midterms hit they began working late, trying to get grading done and working on solidifying the curriculum for the last half of the semester. It was a random Tuesday when things changed. They were working late, clock showing 9pm with both men sitting across from each other in the classroom.

Alan groans, head hitting the desk as he closes his eyes, “why did I become a professor” he mutters.

“Because you’re good at at” jeff responds, shrugging. Alan’s head whips up, staring at jeff who is pointedly keeping his eyes on the work in front of him.

“Thank you” Alan breathes out, noticing a small smile forming on the youngers lips. Clearing his throat, Alan stands, “I’m going to go fill my water bottle. Do you need anything?”

“I’m okay” jeff says, looking up to smile at the man standing above him. Alan smiles back before leaning down and kissing the boy before turning and beginning to walk towards the door. It takes a moment for his exhausted mind to catch up to want he just did, freezing and turning back around immediately.

Jeff is staring at him with wide eyes, neither man totally sure what just happened. “Oh my god, Jeff, I’m so sorry” Alan starts stammering out, “I don’t know why I just did that. I’m so sorry.”

Alan’s brain is going a mile a minute, desperately trying to work out what the fuck just happened and why he did that. It was as if it was a habit, something easy that they just did despite decidedly being something they did not do. Jeff just continues looking at him, making no indication towards how he felt about the action.

“Jeff, please say something, I am so sorry.” As Alan continues stuttering out apologies Jeff stands, immediately shutting the man up. He walks forward, the alpha half expecting Jeff to smack him, which would be justified he thinks to himself.

Jeff stops right in front of Alan, looking up and examining his face. “Kiss me again” he says quietly.

“W-what?” Alan asks, eyes going wide.

“Kiss me again.” Jeff says with more finality behind it.

Alan is a strong man, he expected to be able to keep himself in check. But when an omega, no not just any omega, Jeff, his omega, is asking him for a kiss, who is he to say no ? Alan surges forward, capturing Jeff’s lips in a heated kiss and pulling him in by the waist.

At this point both men are giving into their instincts, neither Alan’s alpha or Jeff’s omega could stand being apart anymore. They stumble backwards towards Alan’s desk, the older man’s hands moving down to under Jeff’s ass and lifting him up and perching him on the edge of the desk.

Jeff spreads his legs, alan immediately taking the invitation and stepping between them to get closer. He pulls back for a moment and rests his forehead against Jeff’s, both men breathing heavily. Alan’s hands come up to rest on Jeff’s hips, rubbing small circles into the soft skin just under his shirt.

“Are you sure” he whispers, finally pulling back to look into Jeff’s eyes.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything” Jeff says sincerely, “please.” Just to make his point, Jeff wraps his legs around Alan’s waist and pulls him closer. The alpha moans with their groins make contact, the little bit of friction sending sparks up his spine. “I need you Alan, I don’t understand it but I need you in a way I’ve never needed anyone else.”

Alan leans down again and pecks Jeff’s lips before moving to mouth at the boys scent gland. “This can’t just be a one time thing” Alan says, still buried in the omegas neck, “god, I’ve never felt this way and if we’re going to do this I need you to promise me that.”

Jeff’s nods, hands flying up to grip Alan’s hair and leaning his head to the side giving him more access to his neck. “I promise” he whines out, “we can talk about it tomorrow but right now” Jeff trails off, pulling harder on the alphas hair, “right now I need you.” he finishes.

Alan groans, sucking harder at Jeff’s neck once he says that. His hands trail further up the omegas body, slowly lifting the shirt up before brushing his thumbs across Jeff’s nipples, drawing a shaky moan out of the boy underneath him.

Alan moves his mouth back up, kissing Jeff passionately as he continues toying with the boys chest. All is fine until they hear the door open, Alan jumps back, whipping around to see Babe standing in the doorway. His eyes are wide, never expecting to walk into a scene like this.

“What the fuck lung” babe sighs, not mad but definitely annoyed, “I told you not to do anything stupid.”

Jeff, face bright red and eyes cast towards the floor, slides himself off the desk. “It’s not his fault” Jeff mutters quietly.

Both men turn to look at the small omega, standing in front of the desk and wringing his hands together.

“I don’t care what y’all do, don’t worry about it, but you can’t do it here. Jesus Christ lung” babe says turning back to his best friend, “what if it was anyone else that walked in.”

Alan nods but says nothing, mind reeling with what just happened. Babe sighs, looking between the two men in front of him. “I came to tell you I was heading home lung. Whatever you choose to do is up to the both of you but…” babe pauses, concern clear in his voice, “just be careful” he lands on finally. Babe turns and leaves the classroom, leaving Alan and Jeff in an uncomfortable silence.

Alan turns to look at Jeff, unsure how to proceed in such a situation. Jeff meets his eyes, a look of determination behind them before he walks back up to Alan and leans up to give him a quick kiss. “Let’s go to your place, lung.”

Alan’s breath hitches, nodding quickly before gathering his things, holding the door open for Jeff. The small omega chuckles at the alphas eagerness before they make their way to the parking lot, both men excited and nervous for the promise of what was to come.

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Tuesday evening! Finally getting chance to get away from work and do something I want to do. This review ha Not a ton of Chenford but what they have is really good and its an excellent Lucy ep. We meet her mother who I like even less than her dad...

2x05 Tough Love

Ep starts off with Lucy complaining to Jackson about her dating life. She says its like Goldilocks. This one is too hot or too cold. Too frat bro or screen writer. How she’ll never find someone. Oh sweets just wait few more years you can do it haha it’ll be so worth it. Jackson’s reply is primo. ‘What you need is a grown man.’ Ain't that the truth....She does have one it's just they’re both just not ready yet LOL

They’re scrambling out the door when she opens it and there is Lucy’s mom…..As you remember I wasn’t fond of her dad. Now we get to meet her mom and get the other part of the puzzle piece. She tells Lucy how she and her father are getting a divorce. Lucy doesn’t look worried almost like this happens all the time. Her parents sound dysfunctional af. No wonder Lucy has the issues she does honestly.

She refuses to tell Lucy what happened or what’s going on. Completely dismissing Lucy and her questions. (Just like her father..) Off to a great start. Her mom stares at their couch and says how great it'll be for her back. Jackson gives up his room when Lucy offers a hotel room instead. She Looks like she wants to murder him for doing this baha I can not blame her. Nothing worse than a parent staying with you as an adult. Least that's always been the case for me. They make you feel well at least hers does as do mine like you're a child all over again they can berate and tear down.

The amount of issues I have with my own mother are not unlike what Lucy has. I feel her on this. Her mom takes a pot shot at her on the way to Jackson’s room. Her face says it all. I’ve always loved Lucy’s sense of style BTW. She always looks great to me. But I’ve been there my mom also likes to take little shots like that at me too. I relate so hard it pains me. Can't just show up and be kind...no no has to tear you down a bit before 5 minutes have elapsed. It looks like she gets it from both barrels with her parents. Another thing I can relate to as well. No reprieve.

Grey brings up CI’s in roll call and how they need to cultivate their own. Tim instantly is mouthy about them. Grey tells them they’re good tools. Tim pipes in ‘They’re definitely tools…’ Of course he has a POV that is diametrically opposed to Angela's. He thinks they need to be dominated and never in control. Where she believes they need to feel like they're apart of the team. Why am I not surprised at both of their POV’s? Ha Tis the theme of this ep for them least from a work standpoint. Harper pipes in says they're both wrong they all need to be handled differently.

Lucy already has her CI all picked out. Are we shocked our girl did her homework long before this came up? She’s chosen a pawn shop owner named Opal as her first CI. Lucy has picked this specific one cause they’re never called in help from the cops about illegal merch. Meaning either they're a saint or keeping illegal stuff without reporting it. Tim seems impressed with her strategy. (won’t tell her that of course) but lets her know it’s not easy to bag a CI.

What I love about this first scene is Lucy’s complete control. Her calm demeanor during this whole thing. Not one thing rocks her boat. Tim just sits back (Looking fine as hell btw) and lets her do her thing. He is as proud as can be while he does. I don’t know what’s cuter her little spin around being all proud of herself or Tim’s cute smile behind her. He is beaming but trying to keep it in check. He's enjoying watching her do her thing that's for sure.

Lucy commands this situation entirely. Opal clearly doesn’t want to bite so Lucy forces her hand. Tim just stands back and lets her work her magic. You can see how proud he is of her taking control. Owning this situation and ultimately getting what she wants. I mean he’s seen that in action a million times with her. Usually it’s her battling him haha So I’m sure he’s more than happy to let the shop owner be the recipient of her driven energy for once haha

Opal cracks and Lucy asks for something that has come through recently. No petty misdemeanor crap haha Tim is just sitting pretty literally and figuratively while she does this. Look at him in that second gif. The way he is watching her. He is impressed with her and its showing. Opal presents Lucy with a designer bag worth at least 6k. She starts digging into the bag and Tim is confused as to what she’s doing. He decides to speaks up for the first time and ask.

Lucy tells him these high end bags usually have serial numbers sewn in. It’ll link them to the original buyer. She finds this and proudly shows off her good work to Tim. She is beyond adorable with how proud she is of herself right now. Tim’s little smile is his stamp of approval. First time we get to see Lucy confidently command a situation with no help from Tim and even get his approval during it. Major growth for Lucy and I’m here for it. ❤️

The serial number leads them to an address where they speak with the woman who it belongs to. Lucy tells her that her bag was at a pawn shop as stolen property. The lady is awful and assumes it was her housekeeper and fires her. The step daughter Olivia walks in and fesses up to selling them. Says she wouldn’t have even noticed.

The step-mom (we soon find out she is to this girl) wants her arrested. Says it'll be only way she'll learn. Lucy is appalled by this woman’s behavior. Asks her if that’s really what her father would want? She continues to be terrible and says he wants whatever she says. Tim and Lucy have no choice but to arrest her.

They bring the step daughter back to the station for processing. Lucy asks where her mother is? She lets her know she passed away last year from cervical cancer. Her dad was cheating on her mom while she was in hospice. You see Lucy’s empathy kick right in. The need to help and need to fix things. Something she doesn’t know how to turn off. I’m with her on that. I too am a very empathetic person it’s hard to turn that off when you see someone hurting.

Goes from processing this girl to trying to guide her a bit. Letting her know she shouldn’t go home tonight. Olivia tells Lucy she doesn’t much of a choice. She has no access to the money her mom left her till she graduates college. That her father is withholding it. Lucy says that can't be legal? Olivia lets her know she's too broke to hire a lawyer to know if it is. Lucy sighs tells her stealing isn’t going to make her situation any better. Olivia looks so lost then asks what will? Poor girl that sucks. I can not imagine being in her living situation.

Nolan’s son shows up with his fiancé at the food truck all in love and happy. Lucy already in a funk about dating says how happy they look and she wants that. All in good time my dear all in good time. You most definitely are not ready yet for Tim and vice versa. But breaks my heart to see her longing for that so much. It really is foreshadowing for what happens to her this season with Caleb. *Heart clutch*.

Lucy is on the phone with her mom and she is belittling her about her grocery list (eye roll) when her convo gets interrupted by Opal. I love her calling for Tim and him instantly replying. Said before it’s the little things I love and this is one of them. She goes on to tell him Olivia returned to the shop. Was selling more of her step moms stuff. This time she didn’t want money she wanted a gun.....

Tim and Lucy go back to Olivia’s house and hear gun shots. She’s shooting up all her step mom's hand bags. Saying how she turned her dad against her, that she ruined everything. Sadly they have to arrest her again. Lucy is telling Olivia she made everything so much worse. The step mom starts to go off saying how she’s going to pay for those. The sweet house keeper walks in asking what’s going on? Step mom asks why she is there? That she fired her. She says she was grabbing last of her things when she heard the commotion.

You can see how annoyed they all are with this nasty woman. The house keeper then asks Tim and Lucy if they’d like to see where she hides all her drugs? Amazing. Epic really. Way to return the favor for firing her for no damn reason. Look at them all tall and small looking like a power couple. How can two people who are just standing there exude so much chemistry?

Lucy wakes up next morning to her apt out of order. It’s such a violation to have what should be your safe space messed with. Her mother just did this without asking. Something my mom would do. So this irritates me to no end...Just another comment on what she thinks Lucy is doing wrong. Drives me insane.

Poor girl she looks so betrayed by Jackson agreeing with the new set up. Thankfully when they arrive back home they see her mom's suitcase by the door. Says they made up and her father is coming to get her. As her mom is leaving she levies one last pot shot. Telling her to come by the office to see why she isn’t dating anymore? After she is gone, Lucy makes a comment about being 28 and still single cause of her parents. Jackson challenges her and says you sure that’s why?

I love Jackson so much for bringing this up. It’s why Lucy isn’t ready for something ‘Tim level’ yet. She still is a commitment-phobe. Also she goes for things that are safe right now. Almost like a placeholder for her till she is ready for the real thing with Tim. Goes after men that’ll never really last for her. Or that she doesn’t take seriously enough for it to. Like with Emmett we'll see later on.

Her face in that gif is too funny. She knows Jackson has her pegged. She still has a ways to go but all part of her journey and the process really. Just like Tim it is fun to watch her grow personally and professionally ❤️

That’s all she wrote for this ep. Not a ton of Chenford content but good stuff none the less for our girl and our couple.

~~~~

Side Notes-Non Chenford

Fun to watch everyone get their CI’s and Jackson get out of the hole but that’s a bout it nothing major this ep.

Thank you to all reading and commenting/liking/reblogging. Especially during Chenford week when we have an onslaught of goodies to read and look at appreciate those who read these reviews appreciate you all :)

[damienthepious]

i love when the real kissin' slithers its way on into lizard kissin' tuesday.... :3c

The Beast In On His Chain (ch 26)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ch 4] [ch 5] [ch 6] [ch 7] [ch 8] [ch 9] [ch 10] [ch 11] [ch 12] [ch 13] [ch 14] [ch 15] [ch 16] [ch 17] [ch 18] [ch 19] [ch 20] [ch 21] [ch 22] [ch 23] [ch 24] [ch 25] [ao3] [???]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien, Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla Characters: Sir Damien, Lord Arum, Rilla, Sir Absolon Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, prisoner/guard dynamic, Dehumanization, (which feels like a weird word to use for a nonhuman person bUT. it’s what i got.), Despair, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, (EVENTUALLY!!!! it’ll take a while), Captivity, Suicidal Thoughts, (that will be a theme throughout. inescapable in this particular fic. alas.), Eventual Romance, (Yes the dynamics in this one are fucked. honestly i’m kinda Stretching my limits these days.), (having fun with it. fucking around. it’s fine.), Recovery, (eventually), Self-Reclamation Chapter Summary: It's time to put things in motion. Arum takes what he can, before it's too late. Chapter Notes: very minor warning for blood, and the usual bad mental space that Arum perpetually occupies. happy lizard kissin'?

~

"Do you think we're prepared?" Damien asks, his tone deceptively mild considering the way that his heart thuds hard in his chest. "We've finished packing, so far as we needed.

Arum rumbles in his chest, lifting the loose sheet of paper in his hands. Odd, to write his thoughts on something besides the usual journal, but Arum suspects that little leatherbound thing is either buried or packed, already. Wouldn't want it on Damien's person when he speaks with the queen, certainly. A few sheets of paper will be far easier to destroy or hide, when the time comes.

[read more on ao3]

[kookieswan]

Through Dying Stars - Spell It Out

Alien!BountyHunter!Jimin x DeliveryGirl!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Genre: Alien AU, BountyHunter AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Nonsexual NSFW/18+, Angsty, bits of Fluff, Slow Burn.

Warnings: Talk of enslaved aliens/people and prostitution. Threats to the crew and MC in regard to forced prostitution. A less than happy politician. Many of the characters are morally gray in this story. Please be warned!

Summary: With every passive aggressive sentence, you know that you’re digging the crew deeper and deeper into a galactic hole by refusing the Magistrate. If only you were a bad person. If only.

Notes: AH I’m so excited for this series that I had to get another part out so I could introduce the Stellar Crew! I’ve been writing during my breaks at work heh. Expect a slightly longer update early next week. ALSO this takes place before the the Intro. I listened to MIST by DIMLIM while writing this update! ⭐️

This Part 2 of the Through Dying Stars series. Find the Masterlist here ⭐️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~“Sir, I understand the request, it’s just that we don’t transport… That type of clientele.” Others wouldn’t catch onto it very easily, but Namjoon looks severely uncomfortable. Understandable considering one of the top politicians of fucking Malvedria, Magistrate Lerferi, just asked him to transport slaves he’s trying to sell off as prostitutes. Nasty fuck, you’d think he’d have more decorum but a-fucking-las.

Yoongi and Tae sit to your side, Yoongi trying his best not to look livid as Tae’s slitted pupils dilate slightly, clearly getting lost in his own world to avoid listening in. Eyeing Yoon, you raise a brow and he sighs deeply to himself as Namjoon clears his throat to speak, only to be cut off but the Magistrate. You can’t wait to see how this goes considering it’s been back and forth for the last fifteen minutes.

“I promise you, they’re perfectly behaved and very excited to be transported Captain Kim. It’ll be no issue, I assure you.” His handsome face does nothing to hide the ugly underneath, the ice in his voice. Mock comforting words don’t do anything to make your crew feel better, the air in your ship still unbearably thick. Namjoon adjusts his chair, tilting his chin back a bit before carefully calculating his response, words coming out sure but slow.

“Even so Magistrate Lerferi, it’s been agreed upon my myself and my crew to to never transport the unwilling. Even if you assure me they’d be the perfect company, they’re still enslaved, and so I really must refuse.” You all agreed to never escort someone to their death, and so you nod in agreement. It’s quiet then, the four members of your crew staring at the screen as the politicians face loses its smile. It morphs into something nasty, lines on his forehead appearing as he practically snarls out his next words.

“So you’re refusing my request then.” Not a question, but a deadpan statement. You hear Yoongi mumble something quietly, only catching ‘fucker’ before Namjoon speaks over him to drown it out… This isn’t going to end well. Tae continues to stare at the ceiling, white bangs falling into his eyes.

“Yes Sir. I’m afraid I’ll have to, but if you’d like, I can steer you in the direction of-“ Ah, poor Joon. Always trying to find the best answer even though faked diplomacy is certainly a hardship. The politician smashes his hands down into his desk, the crack of it causing silence to persist.

“Listen here Kim, I didn’t think I’d have to spell it out but I will. I don’t think you understand just who you’re refusing; I could crush you in seconds and I’m more than willing to. So, I’ll ask one more time: Will you do this transport for me?” Oh goodie. There’s nothing quite like being ruined on a fine Tuesday night. Namjoon looks nearly flabbergasted, his mouth starting to open but no sound comes out so the man continues his little hissy fit.

“I have no issue ruining all four of your lives. A rogue Tarsinial, an outcasted Vovini, and two lowly humans would be easy enough to make disappear… On second thought, I could use your girl there in my little harem, she’s quite pretty.” The urge to throw up directly onto the monitor is strong, but you somehow hold it in. You can’t say the same for the look of disgust that crawls into your face, your Captain and best friend noticeably becoming very pissed off.

Yoongi stands up without a word and walks directly into the frame, blocking everyone else. Craning your head to check the feedback screen, he regards the camera with little interest. Perhaps he’s not really interested in what’s going on, or maybe he just really wants to piss the fuck head off. You’re going to go with the latter, a wry smile coming to your face. It’s easier to find rueful humor than acknowledge the building dread.

“Our Captain said no, so no, we won’t be doing the transport. Have a nice day and don’t contact us again Magistrate because I’ll make sure you fucking regret it if you do.” Making a show of it, he raises his hand before bringing it down on the button harshly to stop the call. Tae flinches at your side, eyes focusing back in slowly as he peers around the room. The screen blanks out and then disconnects, signaling that you’re all probably very fucked. Lovely.

“Fucking twat, fucking talking to us like that. Tch, like I’d let him touch you the nasty bit-” Yoongi starts to go on a rant about how all the politicians are trying to ruin your lives (he’s not wrong) as Tae inches closer to you. He raises a hand and waits to you gesture to him to speak before putting it down again.

“Does anyone want some coffee? I got beans from Tarnocia and they’re delicious-“ Namjoon clears his throat noticeably and cuts off poor Tae. The man just wants to enjoy the little things in life but once again, alas. You pat his shoulder consolingly.

“Yoongi, you shouldn’t have turned off the call like that. I know he was being uncouth but this… This could cause us a lot of problems.” Namjoons voice is quiet but firm, a clear indicator that a fight is probably going to break out soon. You’re due for one at this point; they haven’t fought since last months hoverboard incident. They start to bicker almost immediately, Yoongi having no issue with getting in the other man’s face and tugging on his long bangs.

“Well, fuck me and my coffee then.” You try not to giggle as you tell Tae that you’d love a cup, the Vovini excitedly running off to brew some without another word, swaths of fabric flowing behind him. You hope that it’ll get his mind off things a little, the situation probably hasn’t been pleasant for him.

“Namjoon, you were going in circles with that fucking loser. You could have talked to him for another seven hours and got fucking nowhere. And I’m top of that, did you hear what he said about her?” Not exactly wrong. The Magistrate, based on the very uncomfortably long meeting you had with him, doesn’t seem to be one to take no for an answer. Ever. Standing up and stepping forward, you decide to put in your two cents.

“I agree with Yooyoo. Threats to prostitute me out aside, there’s nothing we could have said to appease that man. He wanted us to transport enslaved prostitutes for fucks sake; we shouldn’t feel bad about saying no and we shouldn’t put Tae through it.” The Tarsinial grimaces before nodding, knowing that you’re right about the situation. There’s no need to make Tae relive the old days in any form.

“Alright. We’ll have to be in our guard for the next month at the very least. That man’s known for holding grudges and as Yoongi would say, we royally pissed him off.” Both of you nod, agreeing with your Captain. Hiding out is the only real option for now; it’s a dangerous game to mess with any sort of government anything and you managed to fuck with one of the highest ranks. Yay for you. Namjoon turns back to the screen, pulling up navigation as he kisses his teeth.

“Just to make sure we’re not being trailed, I’m going to have Tae reroute us. We don’t currently have any urgent deliveries to make, so we’ll be docking on Ecalaxar for a few days. We’ll have an official meeting about everything tomorrow.” Ecalaxar?! You’ve been dying to go on a shopping spree and the planet had some of the best shopping centers for clothing and jewelry. It’s like Namjoon is reading your cluster fuck of a mind, what a beautiful man.

“No fucking way! Holy shit Namjoon you’re the best captain ever.” You toss your arms around him, hugging the huge man tightly to your chest. His own chest rumbles as he laughs at your antics, patting your back a few times before you pull away from his luscious bosom. Yoongi doesn’t look very impressed, a very grumpy pout on his face.

“What about me? I raised you.” Rolling your eyes, you pinch his dumpling cheek just as he flicks your forehead. Even through he’s clearly trying very hard not to, he smiles a small smile, eyes warm as he regards you. Turning away, you flip your hand back as a signal of your leave, your own hidden smile turning the corner of your lips up. You’ll ignore the intense feeling of dread for now.

“Whatever you say, grandpapa. I’ll see you two later; I’m gonna go plan a shopping spree with Tae over coffee.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you’d like to be added to the taglist, leave a comment/ask. All I ask is that you have your age visible on your blog somewhere and make sure you let people tag you! ⭐️

Tags: @pjmsies

[skyward-floored]

Febuwhump day 20 - knife wound

IT’S DONE PHEW. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it before bed hah. Started as a prelude to yesterday’s, but it’s sort of it’s own thing now idk. I think it kinda still fits with it though.

Injury/blood warning again, but it’s not really graphic :)

Era is hyrule Warriors Link, and Kaleidoscope is four swords Link.

Courage of ages explanation

————————————————————

A knife between the ribs wasn’t really how Era preferred to start the day, but honestly? He’d had worse mornings.

At least he’d gotten to eat breakfast.

He reeled backwards as the knife stuck in his side, hearing panicked shouts as the sudden monster who’d stabbed him let out a screeching laugh. The clearing where they’d been packing up exploded into chaos as the monster yanked its weapon back, sending Era reeling.

Someone jumped after the monster with a cry, and Era tried to grab his sword in order to help, but his legs went suddenly weak, and he slid down to his knees. He could feel blood starting to soak through his tunic, and he pressed a hand tightly to his side, trying to breathe evenly as he valiantly tried to stay upright.

He was no stranger to knife wounds, but that didn’t mean they hurt any less.

Someone ran towards him, cape swishing, and Era dazedly looked up at Kaleidoscope, who was reaching for his side where the blood was thickest.

“Are you all right?” he asked with wide eyes, and Era managed a grin.

“‘Course. This is a normal Tuesday for me,” he chuckled, then winced, the action making his side sting. “I’ll live. Got a p-potion?”

Kaleidoscope winced. “A little. Not really enough for something like this. Let me see how deep it is, and then—”

Kaleidoscope had reached for his tunic as he spoke, but Era flinched backwards, batting his hand away without even thinking. Kaleidoscope raised a confused eyebrow, but Era just put his hands back over his injury, and didn’t meet his eyes.

“I’ll do it myself,” Era bit out, voice shaking despite his best efforts. “Go see if y-you can find another potion or something.”

“Era, I am not going to leave you to treat your own stab wound,” Kaleidoscope said flatly. “If nothing else we need to clean it, and the angle is all wrong for you to do it yourself.”

He reached out again, but Era flinched, curling away from him.

“I can do it myself,” he gritted out, sweat starting to drip down his face.

Kaleidoscope stared at him then, watching how he shied away, hands held protectively over his side. Era steadily met his multicolored eyes, daring him to say something, but Kaleidoscope merely sighed.

“Era... someone has to patch you up, and everyone else is fighting,” he said calmly. “I know you’d prefer not being touched, but it’s that or bleed out. And I’d hate tell your Zelda that her moronic hero died from a little stab wound because he wouldn’t accept help.”

“There’s no such thing as a ‘little’ stab wound,” Era muttered, and Kaleidoscope smiled.

“Exactly why I need to help you.”

Era looked at him for a moment, common sense warring with an unpleasant worm of fear inside of him. He knew Kaleidoscope wasn’t going to hurt him. He knew his touch wouldn’t do anything but help and heal, but the paranoid part of him was absolutely panicking at the idea of an unfamiliar hand on his bare skin.

The list of people allowed to do that under normal circumstances was very short.

A wave of pain rippled up his side, and Era closed his eyes, sucking in a calming breath before giving Kaleidoscope a terse nod. It’ll be fine. He’s not going to hurt you.

“Get it over with,” he said in a strained voice, and Kaleidoscope nodded in return.

“All right.”

Kaleidoscope handed him a potion, the bottle only half-full, and Era quickly drank what was there, relieved at the way the fire in his side ebbed a little.

But then Kaleidoscope began carefully tugging up his tunic and chainmail, and Era stiffened, focusing on breathing evenly and not on the fingers pulling at his clothes. It’s fine, he’s going to help, he’s not doing anything but patching you up it’s fine—

After several agonizing moments, Kaleidoscope finally pulled all of his layers out of the way, and frowned at the injury seeping blood all over Era’s side. He muttered something worriedly to himself, then began cleaning the wound, Era twitching every time he was touched.

“Did I ever tell you what happened with my Zelda?” Kaleidoscope suddenly said as he pressed a cloth to Era’s side. Era couldn’t help but flinch, but Kal’s touch was careful, and he could ignore it a little better with the cloth in the way.

“Not really,” he bit out, flinching violently when Kaleidoscope’s fingers brushed against his side. He’s fine he’s safe it’s okay. “You said... guy named Vaati kidnapped her?”

Kaleidoscope nodded. “Mm-hm. But do you know why he kidnapped her?”

Era shook his head.

“It’s because he wanted a wife.”

Era stared at Kaleidoscope in disbelief. “...That’s it? He didn’t want her power, or to sacrifice her in a ritual or... anything? Not to underestimate him, but that... that seems a bit... shallow.”

Kaleidoscope’s gaze dimmed a little. “It was. I mean, he was planning to take over Hyrule of course, but he kidnapped Zelda solely so he could force her to be his bride.”

His lip twisted in disgust.

“He took one look at her and all he saw was her appearance. Something to conquer, to show off and lord over the fact that he was going to take over the kingdom and nobody could stop him.”

Era felt a familiar lump in his throat. “Oh.”

Kaleidoscope took a deep breath, and obviously made a considerable effort to calm down.

“All that to say... I get it. I really do. I know it’s not easy being seen like... that. Zelda still struggles with it,” he finished quietly, starting in on wrapping Era’s injury. “And I’m sorry I have to do this.”

“It’s okay,” Era said softly, still flinching whenever he was touched. “I appreciate it, truly. And thank you for telling me.”

“You’re welcome Era. Thank you for trusting me.”

Era let out a slightly tense laugh in reply. “I’m still working on it.”

Kaleidoscope smiled at him, and continued his work, being as careful as possible as he continued to bandage the wound.

And Era, despite the discomfort and thoughts still yelling at him to get away and stop letting himself be touched... let him.

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

I got my first React Native PR submitted and I’ve received some good feedback.

On the whole it’s fine. I still find the syntax extremely strange but I’ll figure it out.

I still very much prefer Swift and Xcode to TypeScript and VSCode. 😃

Barack Obama

Joe Biden has been one of America’s most consequential presidents, as well as a dear friend and partner to me. Today, we’ve also been reminded — again — that he’s a patriot of the highest order.

Thank you President Biden for serving your country. ❤️

Robert Reich

Let me add my words of gratitude to Joe Biden for doing something Donald Trump is incapable of doing — putting his country over ego, ambition, and pride.

Biden bowed out with grace and dignity.

Yes, yes he did. Now let’s all get behind Kamala Harris, make her the 47th President of this great nation, and save Democracy.

David Gilmour • Mediaite

MSNBC host Rachel Maddow flipped the question that has long chased Democrats of presidential candidate age and capability on Republicans Sunday night after President Joe Biden announced he would no longer run for re-election, calling out former President Donald Trump as now the “old man in the race.”

It’s time for the media to ask the Orange Man to withdrawal from the run for President because of his age and his lack of mental capacity to properly do the job.

Luke Deniston

This is the story of a process that died, and the tale of what we went through to track down the killer and bring it to justice. More accurately, it was a process that kept dying, but that hurts the analogy I’m trying to go for here so just bear with me.

I worked with Luke at Agrian. He’s super smart and kind and I love this story. Luke, if you read this, I hope you wrote that entire story yourself? It’s awesome.

Jess Weatherbed • The Verge

Despite Apple’s claims that most consumers will only consider purchasing vehicles that support CarPlay, Rivian says it still doesn’t have any plans to adopt the iPhone mirroring system. Talking to The Verge EIC Nilay Patel in today’s episode of Decoder, Rivian founder and CEO RJ Scaringe likened Rivian adopting CarPlay to Apple choosing to use Microsoft’s Windows operating systems instead of developing its own in-house iOS and macOS alternatives.

I like this take and comparison. Apple has a desire to be the primary control center for the car and that seems wrong. They also want the car company to make sure Apple is called out as the provider of the in car system by not changing things like fonts on the in dash system. That would mean the cars branding wouldn’t match the companies. That’s not good.

Wouldn’t it be cool to work on an embedded in dash system? I think it would.

The Futon Critic

“HOMICIDE: LIFE ON THE STREET” ARRIVES ON PEACOCK AUG. 19

YES! I loved me some Homocide: Life on the Streets and I’m glad it’ll be available for streaming. Too bad I don’t have a Peacock subscription. Might have to convince the boss we need it for a while? 🤔

M.G. Siegler • Spyglass

Apple Should Buy HBO

I like this idea, especially if Apple would commit to funding HBO original content so we may get the next Sopranos, The Wire, or Game of Thrones.

Isabel van Brugen • Newsweek

Valentina Bondarenko, a top Russian economist, has died at the age of 82 after falling out of her apartment window in Moscow, Russian state-run media reported on Tuesday.

It’s so strange how many folks fall out of windows in Russia. It’s a downright epidemic.

I suspect if Orange Man wins the Presidency we’ll see this strange affliction migrate to America.

Jowi Morales • Tom’s Hardware

Windows 3.1 saves the day during CrowdStrike outage — Southwest Airlines scrapes by with archaic OS

I find this extremely difficult to believe. I actually liked Windows 3.1 and it’s the OS Visio was originally written on, so it’s pretty near and dear to my heart. Thing is, it’s a 16-bit OS, but it was quite capable. I’d love to know more about this setup and how in the world do they keep it secure? The network support in Windows 3.1 was mediocre at best. Did it even support HTTP? I don’t have the slightest clue.

Gil Duran • The New Republic

Where J.D. Vance Gets His Weird, Terrifying Techno-Authoritarian Ideas

I’ve never heard of Curtis Yarvin but he sounds like a real piece of work. This dudes thoughts are as bad as Nazi Germany’s “useless eaters” program. Pathetic and disgusting.

He’s the one that needs to go away with thinking like that. 🤬

Elizabeth Lopatto • The Verge

The moral bankruptcy of Marc Andreessen and Ben Horowitz

All the billionaire bros in the Silicon Valley need to get their act together. They’re ready to throw democracy away so they can become richer? How much money do you need? The answer must be all of it!

Again. Pathetic and selfish to allow an entire nation to be destroyed because you want to make a buck. Don’t be surprised if someone shows up at your place looking to beat your ass. No, that’s not a threat, but I can imagine someone feeling that strongly about it. I mean, hell, someone has already tried to take out the Orange Man. I don’t suspect it’ll be the last.

Stu Sjouwerman • KnowBe4

TLDR: KnowBe4 needed a software engineer for our internal IT AI team. We posted the job, received resumes, conducted interviews, performed background checks, verified references, and hired the person. We sent them their Mac workstation, and the moment it was received, it immediately started to load malware.

This story is fascinating. At WillowTree we’ve had a couple candidates try to get through by hiring someone to do the technical parts of the test for them. They’ve been caught and I’m not aware of any getting through. I suspect in our case they just wanted a job they didn’t have the skill for. In the end they’d have failed and been let go so I’m not sure why they went through the trouble.

Steven Vaughan-Nichols • ZDNet

Several European countries are betting on open-source software for their technology. In the United States, eh, not so much. In the latest news from across the Atlantic, Switzerland has taken a major step forward with its “Federal Law on the Use of Electronic Means for the Fulfillment of Governmental Tasks” (EMBAG). This groundbreaking legislation mandates using open-source software (OSS) in the public sector.

Here’s the thing about this. If someone finds an exploit in Linux they’re gonna leverage it until they’re caught. Something like the CrowdStrike disaster could happen just as easily in open source software. Companies just don’t have to pay to use it, don’t have to contribute their changes back to the community, or support the maintainers of the software.

It’s a good deal for corporations.

[vgckwb]

P5R: Rebel Girl (A FeMC Story/P5R Rework) Chapter 221: 2 Targets (and Investigation)

Tuesday before school, Ren messaged the group.

Ren: I think we need to head into Mementos today.

Ryuji: Fine by me.

Ann: I’m free too!

Futaba: Remember! We're not only going in to change hearts today.

Makoto: Oh right. We’re also going to explore that wall of water.

Yusuke: Are you sure you’re up for it, Sumire?

Sumire: I think I'll be fine.

Sumire: After all, I have all of you!

Lena: Still, I hope you proceed with caution.

Lena: That water seemed very intense to say the least.

Haru: Yeah. But I’m sure it’ll be fine.

Sumire: Thanks, Haru-senpai!

Jose: Where are we meeting up?

Futaba: Probably just our place again.

Ren: Yeah, I know Sojiro is very tolerant of us doing Phantom Thief stuff at Leblanc, but I don’t want to impose on him too much.

Jose: Alright then! Futaba and Ren’s place after school.

Ann: It’s still a little surreal that you moved in.

Ren: Yeah. But I like it.

Ann: I never said it was a bad thing.

Ann: XD!

Ren: XD!

Futaba: We have emojis now, you two…

Ren: I know, but this is fun in its own way.

Futaba: Whatever.

Futaba: We have to remain focused!

Ren: Right. See you all after school!

Afterschool, they all gathered at the Sakura residence. “Where should we go?” Makoto asked. “I mean, the whole house is more open to us, right?”

“Eh, let’s just stick with my room for now,” Futaba said. “I’ve got some intel from my mom’s notes that might help us understand what’s going on.”

“How wonderful!” Yusuke exclaimed.

Futaba got a little embarrassed. “Yeah, well, um, let’s go!” She led everyone into her room. Once they were situated, Futaba went on. “Alright! So, according to my mom’s research, there’s a place in the cognitive world that serves as a connection point between everyone’s subconscious.”

Morgana popped out. “Sounds like Mementos to me!”

Futaba nodded. “Precisely. BUT further notes indicate manners in which to influence it.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Morgana said.

“Wait!” Makoto said. “If these were in your mother’s notes…”

Futaba nodded once more. “You’re not class prez for nothing. Because these were in my mom’s notes, and they were stolen from her, whoever took them has to know of some way to influence people.”

“You don’t think that’s how they managed to have Principal Kobayakawa confront us, do you?!” Ann wondered.

“Or what that body of water might be?” Haru added.

“I can’t think of anything else,” Futaba said. “It seems to line up with my mother’s research.”

“So what do we do?!” Ryuji shrieked.

“Well, there is a silver lining in all of this,” Futaba said. “Despite having my mom’s notes, they haven’t been smart enough to overwhelm the subconscious completely. This has to be why they induce the mental shutdowns and psychotic breakdowns.”

“Because they can’t target everyone directly?” Lena pondered.

"Exactly!” Futaba said.

“But they seem to be on the precipice of doing so,” Yusuke said. “I imagine that these incidents led to the dissolution of the government, which led to these elections, and somehow through them they can take over.”

“Even if they don’t get everyone,” Jose added, “they’ll have the levers of power, which is dangerous enough.”

“Which is why we’re going to stop them!” Sumire said. “We have to!”

Ren nodded and smirked. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Morgana turned back to Futaba. “So, your hypothesis is that whatever influence these people have currently is manifesting as this body of water.”

“Correct,” Futaba nodded.

“So, what will exploring it yield?” Morgana asked.

“If I had to guess,” Makoto said, “I imagine that we might find the place where Kobayakawa came from.”

Ann nodded. “And I bet that source might be a palace.”

“For real?!” Ryuji said.

“It makes sense,” Jose said. “Anyone with a desire so warped that they will kill and maim innocent people to get into the government HAS to have a palace.”

“Getting any kind of clue about such a palace would be worth our time,” Yusuke said.

“So, do we have a rope?” Lena asked.

“I picked one up earlier,” Sumire said. “I’ve got it with me.”

“Well then, I think we’ve got our plan for now,” Lena said.

“Wait!” Haru said. “What about the potential targets?”

“Oh right,” Ren said. “There’s only two this time, but since we’re also doing this, that might be just fine. Ahem. Alright, the first one is a man named Yuichi Fukurai. He claims to be a psychic, but in reality he’s running a cult and draining people of their money.”

“Ugh, sounds despicable,” Ann said.

“Yeah,” Ryuji added. “Count me in for sure.”

“No objections then?” Ren asked. Everyone was determined. “Alright then. The next target is actually a couple: Their names are Kouta and Asami Magario. They’ve been abusing their only daughter and exploiting her for their own gain.”

Futaba grew frustrated. “We’ll save you, Kana!”

“...I take it you know her then?” Yusuke asked.

“Yeah!” Futaba said. “She used to be my friend, and I want to be friends with her again!”

“Well then, I see no reason not to,” Yusuke said.

Ren nodded. “Alright. Both of these are out on the Phansite right now, so let’s head in.”

“Yeah!” Morgana added. “Let’ take ‘em down!” The thieves nodded in agreement, and headed down into Mementos.

Once there, they went straight for the wall of water. Sumire was tying herself to the rope. “Alright. Two rapid tugs means I want to be pulled in.”

“How long can you hold your breath?” Haru asked.

“I think about three minutes…” Sumire said.

“That seems like a lot,” Ryuji said.

“Well, the world record holder can hold their breath for 24 minutes, Futaba pointed out.

“That’s INSANE!” Ryuji said.

“So, if three minutes goes by, and we get nothing, pull you back?” Makoto asked.

“That seems good,” Sumire answered. She finished tying herself off.

Ren walked over to her. She placed her hand on her shoulders, and gave her a kiss. “Just a little extra air for you.”

Sumire was stunned, and then giggled. “I think it evened out, because you take my breath away.”

Ren got embarrassed, and then said “Well…just be careful, alright?”

Sumire nodded. “Is everyone ready?” They all took hold of the rope and nodded. “Alright. Here goes.” She passed through the wall of water and began swimming as fast as she could.

Thirty seconds passed. One minute. One minute, thirty seconds. Two minutes. At about two minutes and thirty seconds, the rope was pulled twice. “PULL!” Ren instructed. The thieves pulled with all their might. Soon enough, Sumire emerged from the water, and flopped onto the ground, breathing heavily. Ren rushed over. “Are you OK?”

“A ship!” Sumire exclaimed. “I saw a ship!”

“Wait, really?!” Jose asked.

Sumire nodded. “Not only that, but I saw a building on top of the ship!”

“Did you recognize it?” Morgana asked.

“Well…” Sumire said. She continued breathing heavily.

“It’s OK,” Makoto said. “That couldn’t have been easy.”

“Yeah, you did a wonderful job,” Haru added.

Sumire smiled. “Thanks. …I…think I recognized it…but I don’t remember how. But I think if I see it again, I’ll know.”

“Well that’s good at least,” Yusuke said.

“Here we go,” Lena said, helping Ren help Sumire up. “You did excellent.”

“Heh heh,” Sumire chuckled.

“Are you sure you want to continue on today?” Morgana said. “You seem a little winded.

Sumire still huffed. “Give me like…ten minutes.”

Morgana smirked. “You’re a fighter alright.” The Phantom Thieves rested for ten minutes so Sumire could catch her breath.

Once the ten minutes was up, Sumire stood up and said “Alright! Let’s go!”

Everyone else readied up. Ren looked at her and said “You still look a little worn out.”

“It’s fine,” Sumire said. “Besides, we only have two targets. If we had more, I’d be a little worried, but…”

Ren smirked. She gave Sumire a kiss on the forehead. “Don’t overdo it, OK?” Sumire nodded. “Good.” They all headed down into Memento proper.

Once they got to a portal, they entered through it. Ren looked at the target angrily. “That man is Yuichi Fukurai.”

“The cult leader?” Jose said.

“The very same,” Ren answered.

“We oughta be careful around him,” Morgana said. “His words might have more of an effect here.”

“You’d think so,” Ryuji said, “but conmen don’t usually fare well when you pull back the curtain!”

“Still,” Ann said, “I think it’s best we stay on our toes.” The group nodded, and went in.

Fukurai looked at them. “Ah! Are you folks interested in salvation?”

“Kind of,” Ren said. “But that salvation starts when you confess your sins and turn yourself in.”

“Heh,” Fukurai chuckled. “So, you must be The Phantom Thieves.”

“And what of it?!” Sumire barked.

“Don’t worry,” Fukurai said. “I’ll still save you. But it’ll cost you.”

“Hard pass!” Ann said.

“Yeah!” Haru added. “Money doesn’t solve all your problems.”

“Heh,” Fukurai laughed. “You're right. Sometimes, you have to take them out personally!” He morphed into Baphomet. “Since you rejected salvation, prepare for DAMNATION!”

“Pah!” Ren scoffed. “Let’s see if you’re really worth your salt!” The Thieves charged in. The battle was tough, but the Thieves came out on top.

A worn down Fukurai shouted “DAMMIT! I was saving people. Giving them hope. Why would you take that away from them?!”

“You weren’t saving them,” Ren said. “You were fooling them. You were only feeding your own ego by giving yourself a mass of followers.”

“If you really cared about helping people, you wouldn’t have done any of this,” Jose pointed out.

“So what now?” Fukurai asked.

Sumire stepped forward. “You’re going to apologize, and you’re going to turn yourself in.”

“Heh. Fine,” Fukurai said. He faded away, and Ren nabbed the treasure.

Ren sighed. “One more stop to make.” The thieves headed out, and then continued through Mementos.

Once they got to the second portal, the Thieves emerged. “Grrr,” Futaba seethed. “Those are Kana’s parents. No doubt.”

“They’re abusing their child, right?” Lena said. “This has to stop!”

“Agreed,” Yusuke said. “We have to stop this at once!”

“Yeah!” Futaba said. “For Kana!” The Thieves walked up.

“Oh look dear,” Asami said. “It looks like some troublesome youths are staring at us.”

“Yeah,” Kouta said. He looked them over. “But you have to admit, they have their appeal.”

“Are you thinking that once we tame them, we can make them famous too?” Asami said.

“I am,” Kouta said. “This is why we’re such a good couple.”

“You’re disgusting!” Lena shouted.

“Not only are you exploiting your own child,” Yusuke said, “but you wish to exploit us as well!”

“We aren’t exploiting her,” Asami said. “Our daughter appreciates being a source of revenue.”

“Yeah,” Kouta said. “Once she’s out on her own, she’ll know how to make money.”

“Grrrrrr!” Futaba vocalized. “You are HORRIBLE excuses for parents! You know NOTHING about Kana-chan!”

“And you do?” Kouta asked.

“More than you ever will!” Futaba protested.

The couple looked at each other. “Well dear,” Asami said, “I think it’s time to begin the punishment.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Kouta said.

They transformed into Succubus and Incubus. “Now don’t put up a fuss!” Asami said.

“Or you won’t get any dinner!” Kouta added.

“Chew on this!” Ren said, leading her team to attack. The awful couple did make formidable foes, since they knew each other inside and out, but the righteous fury of The Phantom Thieves won out in the end.

Once they transformed back, Asami yelped “We worked so hard! And we didn’t get a damn thing!”

“When we had Kana,” Kouta continued, “we didn’t want her to suffer from the same mediocrity that befell us. So we cooked up this scheme.”

“We were making money hand over fist” Asami said. “More than studying, working, and trying hard would ever give us! We didn’t want Kana to be as hopeless as we were.”

Futaba walked forward. “Well you succeeded. She’s even more hopeless than you could have imagined!” The parents gasped. “You never asked her if she wanted to do this. You never asked how she felt. She was afraid! She was left defenseless by the very people who should be defending her the most! She was too afraid to reach out to others because you would poison them too!

So what if the real world is cruel at times?! It doesn’t give you the right to be cruel from the word go! You say you failed even after studying, working, and trying hard? You’re still here, aren’t you?! And you have a daughter! Someone who is more kind than words can express! And you are squandering that gift by putting out her light before she has a chance to shine! You want hope? She was your hope! But now, all you have is despair!”

The couple was pale after getting a stern talking to from a child. “What should we do?” Kouta asked.

“Apologize!” Futaba answered. “Stop making Kana do all of this, and listen to what she wants! Let Kana be Kana!” The couple looked at each other, teared up a little, turned back, and nodded, fading away soon after. Ren grabbed the treasure.

“Damn Oracle!” Ryuji said. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“I did,” Yusuke said. “Oracle’s mother struggled relentlessly, but the shining light in her life was always Oracle. I believe she was just channeling her in that moment.”

Futaba blushed. “Uh…yeah!”

Ren placed her hand on Futaba’s shoulder. “I know how much she means to you. I’m glad we were able to do this.”

Futaba nodded. “Right!”

“So, do you want to keep exploring for a bit?” Jose asked.

“Actually,” Sumire said, “I’m kind of tired. I think that swim is finally catching up to me.”

“Well, we’ve done everything we’ve set out to do,” Morgana said. “I’d call that a victory.” Everyone nodded in agreement. They headed up Mementos, and then back to the real world.