#like i do remember being at least a bit busy with a levels at school even though i didnt have a life then either

[playingonedchess]

weird how this year like basically every fiction thing ive been into has been mystery crime sort of stuff

[blqstar]

: ̗̀➛ K. BAKUGO | PERSIAN RUGS

» [summary] ── you get a phone call from your old best friend Bakugo and end up doing more than just catching up.

cw: (2.7k) x black fem reader, p in v, this is my first time writin a fic so bear with me if its not particularly the best😭 (would love constructive criticism though), swearing, not proofread ngl

Low, honey-colored lights finely lit the room as you look into the tavern. Sultry jazz music reverberates throughout the space, as people gather around the bar. Men and women dressed elegantly sit in the red leather booths, engaging in long, meaningless conversations. Glasses clink, drinks being passed around to the folks circling the lounge. You walked into the bar, the familiar sounds you haven’t heard in so long washing over you like a warm wave.

You never thought you would come back here despite all the memories you’ve had under this roof. However, an unexpected call from your phone ultimately led you right back here. Where you and your old best friend first met.

You vaguely remember him sitting in one of the booths by the bar, slightly drunk from the number of drinks he gulped down since he’d been there. It was a funny interaction, to be quite honest. You didn’t know how famous he was at the time but you recalled his spiky hair and his scarlet eyes and knew that he went to the same high school as you.

You sat down and tried to talk to him but he started blabbering on about himself and bragging about how he would be the #1 pro-hero in Japan. You knew him to always be like this, never fraying from his goals.

His name was Katsuki Bakugo. A man with a fiery temperament, undeniable strength, and fierce loyalty to all who were lucky to be his friends. And surprisingly, you were one of them. Honestly, the closest friend to him to say the least.

You had an unbreakable bond, a friendship forged in the fires of shared feelings and unyielding support. You both connected on such a deep level that the magnifying connection could never disappear.

You spent countless hours talking to each other, ranting about meaningless things. Late-night calls and conversations happened frequently between the two of you, staying up till the crack of dawn just to listen to each other’s voices and hear the stories that happened over the day during your time away from each other.

But little by little as time went by, those calls soon turned into texts, and later, texts turned into absolutely nothing. You knew Kats had a lot on his plate, quite aware that he was one of the most famous pro-heroes in Japan now. But it still hurt a little that he wasn’t texting or calling as much as he used to. It felt like you both were just drifting away from each other. Until a few hours ago, you got a phone call from him.

“Hey, Kats. What’s up?” Your heart thumped when you heard his voice, hearing him let out a slight sigh. You hear people talking and glasses clinking in the background before he speaks again. You sensed a feeling of anxiousness from him but you let it be, only curious about what he was calling you for at such a late hour.

“Hey. You busy right now by any chance?” You’re surprised by his question.

“No, not really. What’s up?”

You audibly hear him clear his throat. “I was thinking…remember that bar where we first met? The one where I was drunk as a lord?”

“Oh, of course. How could I forget, ‘future #1 pro-hero’?” You answer, letting out a little giggle. Katsuki grumbles quietly, “You know I didn’t mean to say that out loud—shut up! Anyway, I was thinking maybe you should come by.”

You gasp sarcastically. “Are you actually inviting me to hang out? This is new for you, Kats.”

Katsuki stutters slightly, sounding a bit flustered. “Don’t get any weird ideas! It’s just…I haven’t seen you in a while, and I figured it’d be nice to catch up.”

Your heart started to beat faster at his response, feeling your face getting warm to the touch. You can’t deny, you had feelings for the man but you could never tell him that. He already has lots of tasks to do. For him to pursue a relationship with you would be a one-in-a-million occurrence, especially with how much fame he’s gotten now. Nevertheless, you digress.

You give him a soft chuckle. “I’d love to catch up with you, Kats. What time should I be there?”

“Just…whenever. I’ll be here. Just don’t take forever, alright?” Katsuki replies, a hint of excitement in his tone.

“Okay, okay! I’ll be there soon. See you.”

…

You made your way to the bar, ordering a drink while glancing around. Your heart raced a little at the thought of seeing him again, your feelings for him rekindling like embers that had never truly died out. The last time you were together had been a welcome filled with unresolved feelings—now, here you were, not knowing if you were seeking to get a long-lasting friendship back or perhaps something more.

As if summoned by your thoughts, he appeared. Katsuki, with his signature spiky blonde hair and those fiery red eyes, looked just as intense as ever. Dressed casually in a fitted black shirt and jeans, he exuded confidence, but there was a softness in his gaze when he spotted you.

His eyes went from studying your face to looking at your body, looking at the orange dress you had on. The way it fits your curves so perfectly made his cheeks go red. You even had his color on too. He gulped and realized he was staring a little bit too long and his expression flickered to a genuine smile, disguising his admiration toward you.

"There you are, finally decided to show up, huh?" he said, crossing the space between you with that familiar swagger you remembered so well.

You chuckled, trying to hide the butterflies in your stomach. "I couldn't resist the call of the infamous Katsuki Bakugo."

He scoffed, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. "Whatever. You just missed my last explosion. Would have impressed you."

You took a sip of your drink, feeling a rush of warmth as he leaned against the bar, his shoulder almost brushing against yours. "I've seen enough explosions for a lifetime, but it’s nice to see you again. How’ve you been?"

The conversation flowed naturally, with laughter and teasing remarks exchanged like old times. As the minutes turned into hours, the noise of the bar faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared history. However, an undeniable tension started to hang in the air, thickening with every glance, every lingering touch.

As Katsuki continued to talk to you, he brushed his fingers against yours while he spoke, a spark igniting where he touched. Your heart raced with the accidental contact, the proximity between you becoming closer and closer.

This is when you take a really good look at your best friend. His fitted black top clings to his muscled frame, accentuating the curves of his biceps and the hard line of his shoulders. The fabric is cut just low enough to reveal a teasing hint of his toned abdomen, each subtle movement highlighting the power beneath his skin.

His voice fades out as you drool over his physique. Within seconds, you zone back in as he calls your name, eyes focused on his face now.

“S-sorry, what’d you say?” Katsuki stares at you, aware of your reverence for his body. He smiles slyly at you. He feels the tension as much as you do, his eyes in a haze as he starts to speak.

“Hey,” he said, his tone suddenly serious, “are you doing anything later?”

Your breath hitches. “Not at all. Why?”

His eyes locked onto yours, intense and searching. “What do we say we get out of here? My place is nearby, and I…I don’t know, I just feel like talking somewhere a bit more private?”

Your pulse quickened at his invitation. You felt a thrill of excitement course through you and without thinking too much about it, you nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

…

The air outside was cooler, the summer night alive with the sounds of distant traffic and the chirping of crickets. Katsuki led the way, his pace brisk and confident. You walked beside him, heart hammering as the anticipation built within you. What would happen next? Would the tension that had been brewing all night simmer over into something more?

When you arrived at his apartment, he opened the door with a casual ease, stepping aside to let you in. The space was cluttered but cozy, with a few mementos from his UA days scattered around, remnants of the determined hero you had known and admired.

“Make yourself at home,” he said, tossing his keys onto the small table by the door, then heading to grab something to drink. You took a moment to soak in the nostalgia before following him to the kitchen.

As you leaned against the counter, he poured a glass of wine and handed it to you, the heat of his presence growing palpable. You could feel the weight of his gaze as he watched you drink from the chalice, and for a moment, the silence stretched between you—a heavy, pregnant pause charged with unspoken desires.

“Katsuki…” you started, unsure of what to say or how to breach the growing tension.

“Just… let’s not pretend,” he interrupted, closing the distance between you, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine. “We both feel it. This is more than just catching up.”

Your breath caught as he stepped closer, the heat radiating off him enveloping you.

You stare into his piercing orbs. There was a fierce intensity in his eyes as he searched yours for confirmation of your unspoken feelings.

“I know,” you replied softly, your heart racing. “I’ve always felt it.”

He moved even closer, pushing you against the counter. He shifts to the side of your face and puts his lips close to your ear.

“So what are we gonna do about it?” He whispers, his voice low and raspier than before. You press your legs together, warmth building up in your lower region.

“I-”

Before you could respond, he captured your lips in a fierce kiss, igniting a fire within you. His lips were warm, and demanding, sending sparks shooting through your veins. You melted against him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you returned the kiss with equal fervor.

Katsuki deepened the kiss, his hands roaming your waist, pulling you flush against him. The kiss was everything you had imagined and more—intense, passionate, and primal. You could feel the heat radiating off him, matching the storm brewing inside you.

You moan into his mouth, your hands tangling in his spiky hair as he explores your mouth with his tongue.

Katsuki's hands roam down your body, cupping your breasts through your dress. He squeezes them gently, his thumbs brushing against your hardening nipples. You gasp at the contact, your hands moving down to grip his firm ass, pulling him against you.

"I want you," he growls against your mouth, his breath hot on your skin. "I've wanted you since the moment we met."

You look at him in surprise. You then smile against his lips, your body buzzing with desire. "Then what are you waiting for?" you whisper, biting his lower lip playfully.

Katsuki growls in response, picking you up in his strong arms and carrying you towards the bedroom. He kicks the door open, laying you down gently on the soft bed. You watch as he strips off his shirt, your eyes roaming over his well-defined chest and abs. He kicks off his shoes and removes his pants, leaving him standing before you in nothing but his boxers.

You sit up, your hands reaching for the zipper of your dress. You slide it down slowly, revealing your curves inch by inch, enjoying the hungry look in Katsuki's eyes as he takes in the view. You slip the dress off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your lacy red bra and panties.

Katsuki's eyes darken even further as he takes in your near-naked form. "So fucking beautiful, mama" he breathes, climbing onto the bed to join you. He leans down, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss as his hands roam down your body. He cups your ass, squeezing it gently before hooking his fingers into the sides of your panties and sliding them down your legs.

You shift, helping him remove your panties, your eyes never leaving his. Katsuki sits back on his heels, his gaze burning as he takes in the view of your wet pussy. "She’s so fucking pretty, ma," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire.

You feel your face warm up at his compliment and nod, lust taking over you. He lowers and bites your inner thigh, licking at the mark afterward. A low moan bubbles in your throat when his tongue starts lapping at your entrance to your clit. “Fuck, Katsu.”

Your legs tremble as one hand pins your hips down to the bed, the other hand spreading your thighs to accommodate his broad shoulders. He eats you like you’re the last meal he’ll ever have. His plump lips wrap around your throbbing clit as he sucks harshly, making you keen.

You felt the knot in your stomach appear and before you could come undone, he stops and hoists his head up from your pussy. You whine at the loss of friction. Katsuki lifts his hips, sliding down his boxers, his hard length springing free. You bite your lip as you take in the sight of his thick, erect cock, your pussy growing more wet at the thought of feeling him inside you.

"Your turn to get comfortable," you purr, pushing him gently onto his back. You straddle his waist, your hands roaming over his broad chest. You lean down as you kiss him deeply. Katsuki groans into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips as you begin to grind against him, your wet core brushing against his shaft.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he gasps, his head falling back as you continue to move against him. You reach between your bodies, guiding his cock to your entrance. You tease him, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit before sinking down slowly, impaling yourself on his length.

Katsuki hisses at the sensation, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "You're so tight," he grunts, his eyes screwed shut as he enjoys the feeling of being encased in your warmth.

You bite your lip at the stretching sensation, slowly lifting yourself up and down on his cock, getting used to his size. Katsuki opens his eyes, watching you ride him with a hungry look. "That's it, fuck yourself on my cock," he growls, his hands gripping your ass, helping you move.

You moan, picking up the pace as you bounce on his lap. Your breasts bounce with each movement, your sensitive nipples grazing his chest with every downward motion. Katsuki sits up, his mouth latching onto one taut peak as he sucks and nibbles gently.

"Oh God, Katsuki!" you cry out, your head falling back as pleasure washes over you. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"

Katsuki smirks against your skin, speeding up his thrusts as he meets your movements. His cock slides in and out of your tight pussy, the wet sounds of his hips meeting filling the room. "You like that, huh?" he teases, his free hand moving down to rub your clit in circles.

"Yes! Oh yes, right there!" you cry out, your body trembling on the edge. "I'm so close, please don't stop!"

Katsuki growls, his mouth claiming yours in a passionate kiss as he increases the pressure on your clit. You cry out into his mouth as your orgasm hits you hard, your body shaking uncontrollably as waves of pleasure ripple through you. Katsuki continues to thrust into you through your climax, his own approaching fast.

"Cum for me, baby," he grunts, his eyes locked on yours. "Let me feel you tighten around my cock."

You whimper, your sensitive walls clenching around him as your orgasm continues to wash over you. Katsuki groans, his hips stuttering as he reaches his own climax. "Fuck, I'm cumming!" he roars, his body tensing as he fills you with his hot release.

You collapse against him, both your bodies sticky with sweat as you try to catch your breath. Katsuki hugs you tight, pulling you into his embrace.

“Hey,” he starts. “Y’know I like you too, right?”

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 4 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warning(s): homophobia becomes a central theme. mention of a close dead relative. internalized misogyny.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 5

You were sitting on the grass under the bleachers when Janis 'Imi'ike came up to you.

"I'm not selling right now." You said, suspecting she was here to see about buying alcohol or something. You had a contact and made a small bit in commissions around the school selling stuff.

"I'm- what? What're you selling?" Oh, well, guess not then.

"Nothing." You didn't want to incriminate yourself. It was bad enough you were smoking a cigarette right this moment. You took another drag. Usually, you didn't smoke during school but today was turning out to be a shittier day than usual.

"I'm not a nark, I could-" She seemed to shake herself. "Anyway. Why did you come to school with Regina today?"

"You saw that?" You inquired, alarmed but making an attempt to hide it.

"Yes. Now, why?"

"We live on the same street. Her car was having issues." You shrugged, trying to play it off.

"How'd you know her car was having issues?" She did not seem inclined to just let it go. It was beginning to annoy you.

"Because I fix it from time to time. Like I said, we live on the same street. We're not friends or anything." While you didn't like lying, especially not when you yourself were bitter about it, protecting Regina's rep was more important.

"I think that's a lie. We went to the same middle school for a while. You were close back then." She accused, crouching to be at level with you. You were officially annoyed now.

"You used to be close too." You took another drag and, noticing your cig was on its last leg, stamped it on the ground. "And how'd that turn out?"

Janis gritted her teeth. "Not well."

"Exactly." You gave her a tight, snarky smile and stood up. "Bye."

"Wait a minute!" She jogged after you as you made for the school building. "I'm not done!"

"I think you are." You called back, hastening your step. "There's nothing for us to talk about, Janis."

"Dude! You're being a huge dick right now." Janis caught up to you, gesturing as if she were offended. "Why are you so touchy?"

"I'm not touchy, I'm pissed that a stranger is getting all up in my business." You informed her curtly. "Lay off."

She held her hands up in surrender, an infuriating smirk on her face. "What business do you have with Regina?"

You halted and dropped your backpack on the ground. "What is your problem?" You advanced on her, not exactly squaring up but still getting a little too close for comfort.

"Woah, protective, aren't you?" She wasn't intimidated in the least. That only angered you more. "Has she ditched Cady already and found a new pet?"

"If I were you, I'd watch my mouth." You said as menacingly as you could.

"We could help each other out, y'know." She said, playing innocent.

"Why would I help you with anything?"

"Because she hurt both of us." You had to agree with that, however reluctantly. "I want revenge. She needs to go down." Now, that you did not agree with.

"What do you mean?" If they were planning a coup or something, you needed to get the details. You wouldn't be putting up with that shit.

"Cady's gotten an in with the Plastics." You'd never liked that stupid nickname Janis insisted on using. "She's still on the fence about them, but it's only a matter of time before I'm proven right."

"You've infiltrated the popular girl group like 007, great, because Regina wronged you somehow in middle school? Grow up." You rolled your eyes and picked up your backpack.

"She outed me, you douche!" She exclaimed before probably even thinking about it. Realizing what she'd said, she glanced around warily. Nobody was nearby since you were away from the courtyard.

Okay. Well. That made this a lot more complicated. You pinched the bridge of your nose. This was the exact reason you hung around skaters and stoner-wannabes. At least their drama was about graffiti and who had the good kush, not about whatever the fuck this was. You weren't aware you were living in a teen drama.

"Okay." You breathed in deeply. You did not want to be involved, no matter how justified Janis could've been. However, you needed information if you wanted to get in the way. "What've you got?"

A mean grin nearly split her face. Then, in just a second, it melted away. "You won't tell anybody, right? About, uh, that earlier-"

"I sell drugs behind the school, dude." You put it flatly. "You have more flak on me."

"True." She conceded. "So..."

Their plans weren't very well constructed, to be fair. Janis wanted to prove to Cady that Regina was a bitch, her words, and that was sort of just a waiting game. In the meantime, they were collecting information. So far they'd found out about the Burn Book, supposedly a scrapbook that Regina and her friends had filled with mean things about everybody at Northshore. Staff and teachers included. Apparently, Cady hadn't had much time to peruse it, so neither Janis nor you were in it for all she knew.

The concept made you nervous. You could very well be in that book and Cady just hadn't seen it. If everybody was in it, including nobodies like Mary Stigson and Amber D'Alessio, the chance was incredibly high.

You didn't even know what she could've written about you. Over the years you'd shared incredibly vulnerable bits of information with her. She'd shared with you too, but you weren't in any position to weaponize her secrets. You'd been through embarrassing moments that just the two of you knew of, had seen each other cry and rage and experience all sorts of overwhelming emotions, had made it through mortifying tweenhood phases together.

Regina could've written your whole life story, the nastiest highlights at least, without breaking a sweat.

You were like a zombie for the rest of the day. Barely paying attention in class, twirling a pencil in your fingers listlessly as whatever teacher went on and on. You looked up when a sharp, female voice called your name. You apologized to Ms Norbury and pretended to start working.

Calculus class, huh? You looked around, trying to be inconspicuous. You met eyes with Cady Heron. She quickly turned back to her work, writing numbers furiously. So Janis had told her about their new accomplice. Of course, you had every intention to tattle first thing once you talked to Regina again.

You knew she wouldn't want to be seen leaving with you, so you shot her a text that you'd be behind the bleachers waiting. You were her ride, after all. It would've been rude to leave her.

Relaxing somewhere quiet and alone wasn't too bad. You lifted your headphones over your ears and put on a Nirvana CD. Just this morning Regina had called you 'a hobo with a liking for grunge', or something along those lines. You did so love proving her right.

You lit a cigarette in honour of Kurt and closed your eyes. Something about this day, the utterly exhausting events, made you desperate to feel some release. Ever since dropping Regina off, you'd been a fucking mess. Janis having seen the whole thing and then coming to conspire against Queen Bee hadn't helped. You wished things could be spelt out for you.

Did Regina like you? Yes or no. You knew it wasn't that simple, that things weren't simple for her like they were for you. You liked her and so it was easy to let her walk all over you. You liked her so, of course, you sided with her even when Janis and you had a camaraderie. You liked her and so you chose not to think about the horrible thing she'd done to Janis.

Was it only a matter of time before she'd use that secret against you, too? Did it hang above your head even now?

"Hey, loser, stub the cig and let's get outta here. I'm sick of this joint."

"Who taught you to talk like that?" You opened your eyes and looked up at Regina. "Certainly not your father."

"What daddy doesn't know won't hurt him." She offered her hand to pull you up. "C'mon. I have a nail appointment to get to."

You hauled yourself up with her help. Over-balancing a little bit you tipped into her space, and for a moment there you breathed the same air. You took a hasty step back and tuned back into the conversation.

"And- and how're you gonna get there?" You already knew.

"We don't have enough time to go to mine first, so..." She smiled sweetly at you, getting that calculating look in her eye as she grabbed your arm and pulled it close to her chest. Looking up at you through her lashes, long nails stroking down your forearm, a smile so alluring it was evil on her face, she knew she had you. You couldn't say no.

Gulping, you inclined your head. "I'll take you."

"Thanks, babe." And with that, she pressed her purse into your arms to carry and skipped ahead.

Fuck. Fuck. You closed your eyes and fought off a groan. You'd almost forgotten the crush you'd nursed for her back then. It hadn't ever left, you knew that much, but it hadn't smacked you in the face quite like this before. You were familiar with moments that made your heart beat fast, scenarios that played on a loop in your head, and dreams you could never really make sense of. Now, though, hearing her call you babe and the physical reaction it evoked, there was no plausible explanation other than the obvious fact: You had a crush on Regina George.

You knew—knew—that it was hopeless. There was no world in which you and Regina could be a thing. Or maybe there was, but that was a pipe dream you'd do no good in entertaining. Your dad didn't care about who you dated, but you were sure he would be none too pleased. Regina's dad was a whole other case. He was way stricter than your dad, though just as distant.

You'd done this before. It would be fine. Admittedly, back when you'd been actively crushing on Regina you had been twelve and under. Back then you'd still tolerated skirts and girly hairstyles. Back then it'd been socially acceptable to cling to your friend like a koala, kiss her cheeks and hold her hand. If you tried that shit now, especially looking like you did, it would not slide.

(You'd been called slurs around the halls before. While you didn't generate much rumours or hubbub, you knew that you existed in people's peripherals in a certain way. They'd snidely ask if you liked the Ellen Show. Make vile hand gestures at you when you passed by. Garry Fort, resident church boy and social outcast, had even offered to pray for you. You had refused.)

"Jorts! Get a move on!" Regina shouted, a good distance away.

"Yeah yeah," You muttered, but picked up the pace.

"What took you so long?" She asked as she settled into the front seat.

"Lost in thought, I guess." Waxing melancholy about how we could never be together, sweetums. You opted not to say that. "So, where's this appointment?"

"Just drive to town, I'll give instructions."

"Sure thing." You bit your lip and tapped your fingers on the steering wheel. You hadn't had your licence for long but you'd been driving for much longer than that. You were a good driver. Back when you'd been young enough for your dad to feel obligated to spend time with you, he'd taken you to some backroads and taught you. Then, when that stopped, you'd done it illegally. Hey, girls gotta keep busy somehow.

"What's on your mind?" Regina asked, breaking the silence that'd turned uncomfortable.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing." You swallowed. "How was your day?"

"How was my day, seriously?" She turned her body to face you, arms crossed and a displeased look on her face. "What is it?"

You tried to think of something to say. You didn't want to ruin her whole day by revealing she had a spy, of all things. You'd planned on waiting a little bit before telling her. You would've maybe taken her for a ride and then gently broken the news.

So, that was a bust.

"Cady Heron is spying on you. She's retelling everything you're doing together with Gretchen and Karen to Janis and her friend Damien Leigh." You blurted it all out. "I was smoking in my usual spot and she just came up to me. And, uh, recruited me. Apparently, she saw you leave my car this morning."

"What?" Regina screeched, face slack with shock as well as strained with fear, panic, and all sorts of jumbled emotions. "Did anybody else see?"

"I don't know!" Your shoulders lifted all the way up to your ears in a panicked shrug. Her emotions were rubbing off on you and you did not like it. "Did people act weird around you today?"

"No," She paused to think. "No, everything was fine. Karen liked my top."

"You mean my top?" You corrected.

"Whatever." Regina looked out of the window contemplatively. "Are you plotting against me?"

You rolled your eyes, and took your sights off the road for a second to shoot her a look. "If I was, would I be telling you?"

"I dunno, I vividly remember you being sorta stupid."

"Wow, thanks, Reg, that's high praise coming from you. Only sorta."

"Shut up. You're so annoying." She unfolded her arms and leaned back in the seat. "Cady Heron. A spy."

"Janis told me, and I quote: "She needs to go down." Which was pretty dramatic in my opinion." Regina didn't say anything. "I mean, we're in high school."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Regina inspected her nails. Pretty acrylics, sharp and lethal, decorated with gems and swirls. A little grown out, sure, but still in perfect condition.

"I just mean that..." You thought about what you wanted to say. "Y'know, on average women in America die, like, between seventy and eighty years old. We're less than a quarter of that right now. Five years from now, I bet the problems we have now will seem stupid and insignificant. And then five years, or ten, from that, the issues then will look the same way."

"Morbid." She turned to look at you. You couldn't tell what her expression was like, in the middle of changing lanes to pass a car going way under the limit. "Are you always this philosophical?"

"I could be. If you wanted me to be." You wondered if that edged a little too close to flirty.

"No. It's insufferable." You didn't know how to respond to that. "I don't fucking care about the grand scheme of things. My problems aren't stupid or insignificant now, so it's no fucking use thinking, oh, it'll all be fine with time! Well, it won't be, if I don't do something right now." She ranted, waving her hands as she did. "And I will argue that women die much earlier than that."

"It's a statistic, Reg-"

"No, women die at menopause at the latest. They get sad, saggy and undesirable and they die." She said with such conviction that it shook you. "When you stop being beautiful, it's all over."

"Regina, that's..." Wrong. Incorrect. A horrible way to think. "I don't think that's true."

"Women like my mom have nothing to offer. When dad stopped wanting her and started looking elsewhere, when she stopped being asked out at the grocery store and they started asking me, when Kylie poked at her flab and asked what her stretch marks were, she died."

Listening to her talk like that, about her mom nonetheless, was heartbreaking. Still, you couldn't help getting angry. "Your mom is alive and well, Reg. Your dad cheating isn't her fault, it's him being an awful human being. Being asked out at the grocery store isn't like receiving a fucking Nobel prize. Flab and stretch marks are what you did to her body. What Kylie did to her body." You bit your lip when it started wobbling. You bit down harshly to stop it.

You continued even when your voice crackled. "My mom's always gonna be young and beautiful. She's gonna always gonna have smooth, wrinkle-free skin. I won't get to ask about her flab or stretch marks. Not ever." Regina was quiet. You could feel her eyes on you. "You don't get to complain about growing old. Mrs George's been like a mom to me, you know that, so don't fucking insult her in front of me. You can get all the botox and surgeries you want, but I'm not gonna sit here and listen to that shit."

"Sorry." She said, quietly. She'd never been good at apologies.

"It's fine." You wiped at your eyes. "I'm sorry for freaking out."

"No, it's... That was stupid." She mostly muttered, now sunken into the seat.

You shouldn't have raved at her like that. Unpacking all that she said would've been much easier with a clear head. Now you were both stuck in this tension. Tears drying on your cheeks and snot in your nose, you wished things would be easier. You wished Regina had never been taught to think like she did, that she'd see herself like you saw her.

"I think you'll still be pretty when you're forty." You put it out there, going for casual.

"You don't have to lie." She huffed, assuredly rolling her eyes.

"I'm not lying. I don't think a few wrinkles are enough to ruin your face."

"I'm not gonna get wrinkles. By the time I'm old enough to get them, there's gonna be technology to prevent signs of ageing entirely."

You laughed at that. "Are you gonna pioneer that?"

"You think I'd be smart enough?"

"I think you're very intelligent, Regina."

"Hm." You could tell she was pleased, though she was looking away. "Take left here."

"Yes, ma'am."

Notes: I'm writing these abnormally fast. Usually, I'm a total sloth with these things. I guess the instant gratification of notes really is addicting. If I suddenly drop off, I promise I didn't die I just ran out of steam.

I have no idea how long this series will be. I have a general outline and character arcs going in my head, but I'm purposefully not drafting anything. I've noticed that when I plan too much I just feel like I've already written the story and don't wanna put any of the work in. So, with this method, though it has its flaws, I won't get bored of my own ideas!

Also, just to sort of put it out there in writing, they're meant to be flawed characters. OC might be self-aware to a point, but she too has her shortcomings. While Regina's more obviously flawed, neither of them are saints. They're teenagers with shitty home lives, they're gonna be fucked up. That also includes Janis and Cady. They're all dumb teenagers with unresolved issues.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer

[ofc-vi-writes-too]

so all ive been able to think about is gotham for the past several days, and more specifically how gothamite culture has to be SO drastically different and jarring to literally anywhere else in the world. Like even other super cities like metropolis, or central city, or wherever else are at least KINDA normal. Like yea u have superman or wonderwoman or the flash but they dont really have to deal with the same level of bs as Gotham.

That being said here are a list of things that I think are extremely normal to Gotham, and other things that happen in thay horrible little city:

• the episode of Hot Ones with Brucie Wayne where no one thinks he’ll even be able to stand the 2nd or 3rd wing but he eats all of them with no reaction, and Sean Evans (or the in universe equivalent) just sits there like “wow no one has ever had literally no reaction before this is really crazy, and Bruce Wayne of all people?” Afterwards Bruce has second thoughts and realizes that maybe he should have played up his reaction to the spice a bit more. People Inside of Gotham are a little shocked because everytime he eats in public it is the most boring, bland, flavorless food imaginable. (he handled the spice so well because Batman is ready for all potential threats and forms of torture. Ridiculous levels of spice included)

• Gotham schools offer courses in self defense. In some school districts its actually mandatory, thats usually in old gotham or downtown gotham. In more affluent areas, self defense is still taught in schools, but most kids are sent to some ritzy trainer to make sure they can defend themselves.

• No one even blinks when theres a new vigilante by the time Damian comes around. Theres still a little buzz but by the time Duke shows up, people are like “Oh cool another one. HEY BRO WHATS YOUR NAME.” I saw someone post here about how when the Wayne kids get mad at Bruce, they go to Selina and make public appearances as Stray, Catwomans sidekick. I personally believe that Tim was the first one to do it but Dick does it the most, and gothamites didnt even need to get used to Stray showing up sometimes, nor did people really care that Stray was always wildly different heights, shapes, colors, etc. the additude is kinda like “I have taxes and job security to worry about. If a new vigilante is what were doing then so be it.”

• People tend to think that Gothamites aren’t smart, but that city is home to the Richest, smartest, most creative people alive. They mostly just lack morals. Like Dr. Freeze, Harley Quinn, hell even The Riddler are all insanely intelligent. Half of Gothams Villains have at minimum 2 Doctorates in something or other. Gotham generates a lot of cash as a whole, and small businesses thrive there. They have high employment rates, and most citizens have their associates despite everything happening around them. People who have never been to Gotham before expect to have to talk down to the citizens but Gothamites just kinda roll their eyes at them and carry on about their merriment.

• Gothamites CONSTANTLY says “because I’m Batman” when they don’t want to explain themselves. Kids hear it a lot from parents and they also get “If you don’t go to sleep, Condiment Man i gonna come and cover you in stinky relish.” Because truly what else is condiment man good for.

• Gothamites who work at BatBurger and typically work the night shift are used to visits from Batman, Robin, Red Hood, Cat Woman, Harley Quinn, etc. Sometimes they remember the workers and ask about their family, and how life is, and other things like that. Theres some barely 18 y/o who just graduated high school who worls at Bat Burger, and asked Red Hood to help him impress his gf by saying theyre friends. He like fuck it why not and tells the gf that the kid helped him save an old lady’s cat in a tree and now theyre bffs. She totally believes it. Score.

• I see the Gotham thinks Batman is Bruce Wayne’s boyfriend theories and raise you: Its pretty common knowledge that Bruce Wayne is Batman, just no one has the heart to tell him. Also theyre scared he will quit if anyone brings it up. So from this Gothamites created the joke that BW and batman are dating and when asked about it in an interview, dick grayson is like “……yes! My adoptive father is dating the guy who dressed up like a bat every night…!”

• this cuased and arguement between Bruce and Dick because no! Bruce isnt dating Batman! (stray was seen again that week) HE IS BATMAN! But fuck now the public thinks theyre a couple so now bruce gets asked about it and hes like “haha yes my spooky bat bf is who i love very dearly!” As punishment He makes Dick bring him flowers in the batsuit because “as far as he is concerned, this is his shithead son’s fault.” Thats a direct quote btw. Little does he know this somehow ties back to Tim Drake before they met.

[defrosted69]

My Hype Boy

(A/N: Got this idea off Youtube again and I said why not mix it up a bit Yohohoho)

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You exhaled heavily as the autumn breeze past you by. Your highschool days were closing to an end and you couldn't remember any good memories that you made in school. You know that after high school, everything will be on your own and it will be your decision on what to do with your life. Honestly speaking, you wanted to at least work after your high school days inorder to help your single mother.

Your mother wasn't a single mother before but your father died when you were young because of his heart disease. You didn't really remember his features or any memory he has with you as the only proff you can have is photos of him along with your mother.

Well lately, your mother has been meeting a guy whom she's having fun with. You weren't gonna stop your mother have fun since shr deserve nothing but happiness after what she went through in life. You haven't seen the man but hearing stories from your mother, the dude sounded like a good guy.

You sighed and just brushed those thoughts away as today was the last day of school for the week meaning you have time for yourself. That sweet update from your game was what your aim this week was. You worked hard to review for this week quizzes and you feel like you actually did great so why not relieve yourself and embrace the pleasure of gaming.

You were infront of your door as you opened it and called out your mother.

"Eomma I'm home-"

"Y/N! Good timing. I want you to meet your step father."

Your eyes immediately looked around and sure enough, there was a man beside your mother who had plastered a kind smile. He wore glasses and in your opinion, he looked like a business man which you presume his career is connected to an entrepreneur. Your gaze then shifted to the small girl who was peaking behind her. Her gaze at you looked like a scared cat as this made you nervous for some odd reason.

"Y/N, this is Doyoung. He's gonna be your new step father."

He offered you a handshake which you complied by. But your eyes immediately shifted towards the girl behind her. Something about her made you self conscience of yourself. Your step father must have seen your gaze as he smiled softly and introduced her shy daughter.

"Ah, She's Kim Minji. She's my daughter. She's a shy girl but she can't speak."

This made you confused. Your eyebrows furrowed a bit as Minji slowly hid herself behind her father once again. Seeing your confused face made your mother chuckled a bit as she was the one who explained to you.

"She's suffering from aphasia Y/N."

"Ah I see..."

"I know she's preety but you gotta understand her condition got it?"

Your mother's stern voice only made you sigh as you nod your head. After a few greetings here and there, You finally made your way to your room and turned your PC on. Your phone buzzed and you were already aware that your friends are waiting for you so you hopped on to the game and saw them all online. Being the typical gamers they are, they began to tell you how you suck at the game when in reality, your KDA average was at 15-4-9. It wasn't at pro level but it was enough to carry your teammates aka your friends through ranked games.

Being able to enjoy the time you have playing games made the time move faster. For 30 minutes that you feel like playing, but in reality, time has moved 2 hours from when you started playing. The orange sky has turned off and everything outside of your window has turned dark as the clouds dissappeared and was replaced with twinkling stars.

A sudden tap on your shoulder startled you as you jumped out of your seat. Your hearted raced to the max as you looked behind you and you saw a frightened Minji shivering in fear. You immediately removed your headset and tried to calm the girl down.

"I-It's okay Minji. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry."

We weren't really sure on what to do but if there was one thing that you learned in school is that you should be a gentle speaker to someone who's quiet or someone who is anxious. Minji was showing both signs and you had hoped you have calmed her down and it did helped her for a bit. You noticed how she stopped shivering yet her eyes still showed worry. You then noticed how she was holding a plate of food and this immediately got you the idea why Minji came to your room.

"Ah, Sorry I couldn't go down for dinner. Did you make this?"

She slowly nodded her head as you smiled brightly at her. You were thankful that she made you dinner but you also felt a little bad that a stranger made you your food. You were a person who always pay your debt and right now, you were indebt to Kim Minji.

"Thank You Minji. I appriciate it. Ummm.. I know it's weird for me to ask this but do you have something in mind that you like? Like food?"

Minji gulped as she gave you an anxious stare. You weren't able to read what she was saying because she can't really speak. She then placed your plate on your table as she pointed at your PC Screen. She looked down embarrassed and held the cloth of her pajamas tightly. You were no idiot as you immediately got the hint of what she wants.

"Ah, you wanna play the video game?"

She nodded her head slowly.

"Sure. Do you want me to teach you as well?"

She looked up at you rather quickly as her eyes widen in surprised. For the first time since earlier, the anxious look she showed dissappeared and were no longer visible in her face. Instead, excitement and joy showed on her face. She did a small hop from her joy which you couldn't help but chuckle at her cuteness. You left your seat to which Minji slowly occupied it. She looked around your PC and was amazed on how your keyboards were flashing color rainbow lights, add in some figurine on the side which added some aesthethic flavor on your setup.

"So do you have any background of the game Minji?"

She slowly nodded her head which caught you by surprise. The game was for all obviously but it was rare for you to see a girl take interests on such game considering how toxic the game chat can be sometimes. Your shock suddenly turned to worry as you quickly muted the chat along with voice chat as you didn't want Minji to get exposed by the toxic words that can be labeled as a the world's biggest crime sentence known to humanity.

You watched from behind as Minji plays your character and mind you, your character is no easy task. They say that your character you choose was only used by the professional players especially in the esport tournament because of how complicated it is to master it. Even with your 6 months of using the character, you still haven't really realized how to properly use this character properly.

But as 5 minutes of speedrun gameplay, you just witness a pro level user use your champion as if it was nothing. The combos Minji unleashed were all so on point and was so effective against the rival team and the supposed 20 to 30 minute gameplay just ended in 15 minutes with Minji having a KDA of 15/0/6. Zero death and the MVP of the game. You were silenced by her gameplay as Minji removed the headset and looked at with her preety eyes.

"Oh my god... That was so amazing!!"

You exclaimed as Minji's eyes widen seeing you jump from joy. You were all smile as you clapped your hands congratulating her for her splendid performance. But instead of seeing a smile from her, she only looked anxious and scared as this confused you. She suddenly stood up and sprinted out of your room leaving you perplexed and filling your thoughts with so many questions. That happiness that you felt immediately died and was replaced with worry.

"Did I do something wrong?"

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"You definitely did something wrong."

Your friend Soobin said in a matter of fact tone. You groaned as you laid your head at your table. Soobin was one of your friends in school and an introvert unlike you and Yeonjun who were extroverted. You realized that Minji must be an introvert after meeting her so you decided to ask for help with another introvert and that's where Choi Soobin comes to play.

"Why? What did I do wrong?"

"Hmmmm. Well for starters she isn’t close with you yet. Either that or she's not used to compliments or such."

The last part of his essay got you intrigue. You couldn't understand why she wouldn't be used to compliments when she herself looked like a girl who's always complimented by her father or even her friends.

"I didn't know there was such thing."

"Well now you know. But who's she anyway?"

Soobin's question got you sweating profoundly out of nowhere. Soobin wasn't an easy opponent when it comes to lying. His sharp eyes and good skill on observing people is what makes it difficult to find excuses to dodge him. You weren't just gonna simply say that you have a new sister living under your roof as this will make things more difficult for you as it is with her.

"An…old friend of mine."

You tried to cover your unsure answer with confidence on your voice. This skill was developed when your were in your first year as you made unsure reasons to your mother to play video games instead of learning and it worked somehow. This skill of yours was something that Soobin wasn't aware as of the moment as he just shrugged his shoulder.

"Ah, that explains it."

You silently sigh a relief knowing that Soobin took the bait for now.

"Wait, one reason could be that she was bullied before and she lost that sense of trust or something like that."

Now that was a wild and interesting take. Pondering about for a while, that reason could make such sense considering she has a disability.

"It must have been tough for her."

Your heart soften imagining how Minji must have felt being bullied because she can't talk nor speak out her thoughts. This somehow angered you as you clenched your fist in anger. The thought of Minji getting hurt didn't sit well with you as Soobin noticed the burning flare on your eyes.

"Calm down Y/N. You look like you're about to kill someone."

"Ah, Sorry."

Soobin's words snapped you back to reality as you exhaled a deep breath. There was no point of you getting angry at this moment as you weren't even sure if she was being bullied from the start. In fact you barely know anything about Minji at all. The only information you have with her is that she's a good LooL player. That's it. Not even her contacts was in your phone.

"I'm such a terrible brother to her."

You sighed but you turned your attention to apologizing to the girl after school. The first thing that entered your mind is offering her a bunch of food. Mainly some snacks and some chocolates for her. Maybe you can add in a few drinks as well.

"Hmm.. Should I buy some drink? But what does she like? Hmmm..."

Once the school bell rang indicating the end of school, Yeonjun and Soobin stood up together as their eyes signal one another. They have plans today to hangout in Soobin's place as they turned their attention toward you. But instead of finding you smiling towards them, your seat was empty and they caught a glimpse of you leaving the class in hurried manner. Yeonjun found it strange as he was about to rush towards you when Soobin stopped him.

"Hey, Yah, Soobin. Why are you stopping me?"

"Just let him be. He must be helping his mother at her shop today."

Soobin knew that was far from the truth yet he had hoped that was enough reason for Yeonjun to believe in.

"Ah, is that so?"

"Yeah."

"Oh well. Guess it's just the idiot duo again."

"Don't add me into that."

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Making your way at the local store, you contemplated on what flavor of filled bread you were gonna choose.

"Hmm? Will Minji like chocolate filled bread or will she like the strawberry one? Hmmm..."

You could only sigh as this was quite a troublesome problem for you. But then you realized something that could solve your problem.

"Why do I have to choose 1 when I can choose both? God I'm such a genius."

You chuckled to yourself and placed the 2 bread unto your grocery basket and went to the drinks section. Upon arriving, your eyes wandered seeing there was a lot of variation of drinks that you can choose ranging from water to juice and the like. But your main focus isn't some water or factory ready juice. No, your focus was the milk flavored section. Choosing between Strawberry and Mango, you grabbed both since you like mango and strawberry as well.

You thought that you have enough money to pay for your stuff, you were surprised by how much the foods cost as you couldn't believe how it exceeded your allowance. Worst part of all this is, is that you forgot your wallet back at home and your pocket money is only for 26175.00 won. the total food cost was 35678.00 won which was more than your pocket money. You had no choice but to remove what wasn't necessary as you choose the strawberry filled bread and Mango milk drink. This was a giant bet as you weren't sure what Minji really liked.

You left the store feeling a little dissapointed by yourself but nonetheless, you were still determined to apologized to Minji. You began to start the trail towards your home but a sudden though made you visit your mother's stall and saw her working alone. Your mother had own a small chicken stall near the neighborhood of your home as this small stall was the reason why you are attending school in the first place. You smiled entering the shop and greeted your mother with a happy demeanor as you hugged her warmly.

"Hey Mom."

"Oh. Y/n. How's school for you dear?"

"Preety boring. Nothing new."

"Really? Well have you had dinner yet?"

"Not yet."

"Why don't you sit down and I'll cook you some chicken wings."

"You don't have to Mom. I'm still full from the little snack I ate earlier."

You pulled away from her as your mother chuckled at your behavior. You then placed the food on of the store's table as you began to help your mother sweep the floor or even clean some tables. This was your task everytime you visit her stall as this was the least you can do to lessen her work load.

"Ah, By the way Mom."

"Hmm?"

"About Minji. I actually have no knowledge about her and I feel scared that I may fuck up my actions towards her."

It was a question that you really need an answer for and no one is better than to ask than your own Mother. She sighed a bit as she closed the cash register and looked at you.

"Doyoung told me that Minji suffered Aphasia due to bullying. She was seven years old when her school bully pushed her on a river and her head got hit on a rock. The doctors told him that Minji was lucky to survive the fall and hit on her head but it did cause her to lose her voice. Since then, Minji has been home schooled her life keeping her away from the harsh reality of schools."

That immediately saddened you as your shoulders slumped down and your facial expression showed nothing but sadness and pity. Minji wasn't just a shy girl, she was a traumatized girl that couldn't properly let go of her painful past. You finally realized what you did wrong towards her as she wasn't used to being complimented by other people beside her father. This also add that she must have been traumatized of people cheering for her thinking they were behind her when in fact, they couldn't care less about her.

Minji was just all to stunned to take everything that you did for her as she wasn't used in that situation at all. You sighed heavily as you smacked your head realizing how much of an idiot you were towards her.

"I'm so stupid! Damn it."

You cursed yourself for this kind of behavior but this also added more motivation towards asking for forgiveness towards her. So after a few minutes of fixing and cleaning up the place, your mother has closed the shop and both of you walked home. Upon arriving, you immediately went towards the supposed room of Minji. Your heart was beating fast and this made you feel anxious as hell. Sweats began to form on your forehead and hands as the nervousness began to take over your body. You took one deep breath and you mentally prepared yourself for what you will face.

You knocked on her door 3 times and called out her name.

"Minji, are you there? I.. I just wanna apologize to you."

There was a few seconds of silence and just when you were about to knock the second time, you heard the door click open as Minji peaked through door staring at you. You gulped as you realized how scared Minji is towards you. You mentally slapped yourself for being an insensitive prick towards a girl who's so afraid of the world around her. With a deep breath you bowed towards her in a complete 90° angle bow showing how sorry you were.

"I'm so sorry for acting so irrational towards you Minji. I didn't know that I scared you with my actions and I sincerely apologize towards you. I failed as a big brother and I would understand if you ignore me or even hate me because I deserve all of it. I didn't consider your feelings and that was a big problem from me. I have learned my lesson and I hope I can still be a good big brother towards you."

You were glad that you didn't stutter with your words as you hoped that Minji would get your point. But you were also afraid that you could have said too much for the girl. The silence that the atmosphere carried was so heavy that you couldn't help but look for a bit and you were suprised to see Minji crying while staring at you.

"Oh shit! Oh no, oh no. Oh no, oh no. What do I fucking do????"

You were completely scared as to why Minji suddenly started crying infront of you as you quickly fixed your posture and tried to think of the solution you could possibly do. But to your surprised, Minji wiped her tears and pulled out a pen and paper as she began writing on it and she showed you what she wrote.

"It's not my fault why you're crying? Then umm.. Why.. Did you suddenly cry?"

She began to write again then showed you after she was finished.

"I was just touched by what you did Oppa. No one has been this kind to me other than my father"

You wanted to cry as well seeing how harsh the world was towards Minji. She was such an innocent soul yet the world hated her for being such an angel. It was this day you swore to protect and help Minji get past her trauma of people and nothing will stop you from protecting her no matter what.

"Ah by the way Minji, I bought you snacks you might like."

You gave her the strawberry filled bread and the milk flavored drink as Minji squealed in delight. She jumped a little as she hugged you suddenly which caught you by suprised. Minji hugged you so tightly and felt the sincerity in her hug. You stroked the hair of Minji and chuckled happily.

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TIMESKIP: 6 MONTHS

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6 months have passed by and Minji has finally decided to enter a school near your own school where you attended. It was surely a suprised especially your step-father considering how much he didn't want her daughter to experience bullying anymore. But one part of him also wanted her daughter to have a normal student life outside of her own room and her decision was possible because of you as well.

During the months of you and Minji hanging out in the house, you would tell stories to Minji about your daily school life and the good times you did while being a student. Of course you removed some parts that could potentially trigger her trauma as you were very careful with your words. You would sometimes cut off your sentence and change the subject immediately especially when you realize that the words that will come out of your mind may make Minji uncomfortable.

Soobin and Yeonjun also found it weird how you were going home more earlier now than before but Soobin being the best wing man you have, would often tell him of the same excuse over and over again and Yeonjun would fall for it all over again and again.

All though your step father was against it at first, you helped Minji explain to him the importance of Minji attending school at least once in her youth especially since she's a teenager. It took sometime of convincing and a lot of Minji crying but your stepfather agreed to enroll Minji for one semester only. Even though it wasn't that long, Minji rejoiced as she hopped around with her tiny jumps and gave her father a warm hug.

Everything was going well for Minji for her first 2 weeks as she was all smiles and would tell you stories of her school experience in her notebook. But what really made you happy for her was when she told you of her friend Pham Hanni. She was also a transfer student from a different country and Hanni guided her through out the school. You could still see how happy she was when she told you about her first friend but that happiness could only last for a few seconds.

Minji has suddenly been going home lately and it also didn't help that you mother and step father has been into arguments a lot lately due to some financial issues regarding your step father's business. Of course you find it annoying how loud they could be but you feel more bad towards Minji as you have learned that she wasn't fond of arguments and fighting.

Things took a big dip as Minji was once again late to go home as you had enough of this and decided to check out her school and on what's she's been up to. As the final bell was rang, you picked up your bag and immediately left class which Yeonjun and Soobin was used by now as they just shrugged their shoulder at you. The walk towards her school wouldn't be much time consuming as it was just at best a 10 to 7 minute walk or if your sprinting, it would only take 2 minutes. Knowing that Minji's dismissal time was 30 minutes ahead of you, you were sure that Minji would be still in school so you arrived at their school gate looking for her. All the students eyes were on you as they didn't expect another student to enter their campus that easily.

Walking up the stairs of her classroom, you entered it and saw that Minji was nowhere to be found but there was a few students that was still in the room that could tell you where Minji is. Particular, you saw a bunny looking girl who was staring at you intently.

"Excuse me but have you seen Kim Minji?"

"Minji? She went out earlier with that jerk Haesul. Well technically speaking, him and his circle called Minji out."

Furious, anger, murder, genocide. All of this emotion was rilled up into you as your fist turn into a ball and your eyes showed fire in em. The girl felt scared at your murderous face as you asked her where they could be.

"T-They could be at the back side of the school near the trash area..."

You noticed how scared the girl looked at you as you sighed and calmed your nerves down. Minji was in danger but there was no reason for you to be angry at someone who has no affiliate with the assholes.

"I'm sorry for scaring you. But what's your Name?"

"Pham.. Pham Hanni."

"Pham Hanni? Ah! The girl that Minji told me all about. Thank you for being her friend."

You sincerely bowed at the girl who was shocked by you sincerely as she just waved her hand off at you.

"It's okay Oppa. I should be the one apologizing for not doing anything to stop those jerks from approaching Minji. I'm so sorry."

You could only chuckle at the girl and smile at her. You know very well that Hanni was also a shy girl like Minji so having a confrontation would also be too much for her.

"It's alright Hanni. You don't have to worry about it. I'll take care of this problem."

You smiled and left the classroom looking for Minji as your eyes darted everywhere observing and noticing the small details of their school.

"For a middle school class, this sure looks prestigious. How come there's bullying here?"

That was your thought until you finally saw Minji being cornered by 5 guys. Your blood boiled immediately as your animalistic instinct kicked in.

"Come on Kim Minji, if you don't answer me then we're dating."

Haesul said as his friends cheer him on. He was basically taking her disability to his advantage as Minji was scared for her life. Her knees were shivering and her heart was beating so fast. She could feel her head spinning from the amount of stress she was facing and her vision was slowly doubling.

"Hey since you're quiet, that means we're dating right? Right? Then I should kiss you to seal the deal right?"

His friends started to cheer him on as this only made her more anxious than before. Her trauma began to climb back up her mind as Haesul smirked and was inching himself closer to her. He didn't leave any space for Minji to breath as Minji closed her eyes as she screamed out the name in her mind the person she wanted to see.

"Y/N OPPA!!!!"

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"Oi, what do you think your doing to my sister?"

You pushed the face of Haesul off Minji immediately and pushed him away giving them space which Minji was so glad to have. She opened her eyes and there she saw a familiar back. The back that she adored so much and the back that will always protect her. She began to sob silently as her tears began to slowly descend her cheeks.

"Hey, who do you think you are?"

Haesul asked as he looked you up and down which you didn't back away from. In your mind, they were in a teenage phase where they think they can take on anyone. You also have to be careful considering you were a high schooler and not a middle school student unlike them.

"Her brother obviously, now back off."

You tried your best to intimidate them yet they didn't falter. They only laughed at you finding it amusing that her brother was defending her.

"Listen pal, me and Minji are a thing. And you're-"

"Who?"

This made Haesul scoffed as he didn't expect you to cut him off so easily. His patience was slowly dying down.

"Me, Haesu-"

"Asked."

You once again cut him off and this time, he didn't take it lightly as he punched your face in annoyance. Minji widen her eyes in pure horror as she watches her precious brother eat a punch to his face. You wanted to retaliate immediately after that punch but you held back as fighting a middle schooler would be an embarrassment for you. You fell unto the floor but stood up and even smirked at him.

"That all you got kid?"

"You bastard-"

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SMACK

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"Kids I tell yah, they think their inferior or something sometimes."

Yeonjun spoke making you look behind you and seeing Him and Soobin standing together. Yeonjun's drink was splashed into Haseul's head and it's remains was slowly walking down his face.

"Yeonjun, Soobin? What are you two doing here?"

Soobin sighed and pointed at Yeonjun.

"This bastard wanted to see you so we followed you and here we are."

You were grateful for their rescue as this was an opportunity for you to take Minji out of this mess. You grabbed her hand and both of you began to walk away as you said

"Can you two give them the old Special? They messed someone important to me."

Soobin sighed while Yeonjun smiled like a maniac.

"Suuure~"

"Alright, I won't let that slide anyway."

Both Yeonjun and Soobin said respectively as you gave them a nod while pulling and holding the hand of Minji. You wanted to get the clear picture of what's really going on. Minji can clearly see how mad you are as this made her feel bad for herself. She stopped walking which also made you stop on your tracks. You looked back and saw Minji crying softly as this broke your heart. You hated seeing Minji cry or sad as you let go of her hand.

"Minji I... I'm sorry. I didn't know you were being bullied and-"

Minji didn't let you continue as she suddenly hugged you tightly as she cried her heart out. You didn't know why she was crying this much but you just relate it back to her being bullied. But in reality, she felt so sorry for you because you had to save her and you even got punched back. She hated herself for what happened earlier but she was also grateful for saving her back then. Her heart was beating so fast and she was so flustered being this close to you but she didn't care. All that mattered for her right now is that she was in your arms comforting her.

.

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TIMESKIP: 3 MONTHS

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.

Ever since that accident, Minji has changed rather weirdly towards you. Everytime you would arrive home, she would hug you tightly and wouldn't let go for a minute. She has also been very clingy towards you either it be playing video games, eating your food or even reading a book. She would either give you a back hug which she will stay for a long time or she would hug your arm and watch you play your video game or sleep on your shoulder.

You don't mind Minji being clingy towards you but you just find it weird how she's acting towards you. Especially sometimes she would sneak into your bed and snuggle with you. You find this action very weird but you just let her as everytime you would push her away, she would only cling to you tighter. It was a losing game if you fight her off so you just let her be and sleep.

Although your relationship with Minji was great, your parents wasn't. Their arguments has become more often which lead to Minji leaving the table and sleeping at your room and clinging towards you. You could only sigh at them and their argument has finally come to a close when the two decided to have a divorce. Upon hearing this, you were sadden because the reason why they were arguing was something they can't control.

Apperently, your stepfather was setup to marry a woman he doesn't even love due to his business. He tried to fight for his love towards your mother but in the end, he lose the battle. He apologized to you and your mother sincerely as he admitted that your mother will always have a place in her heart. It was heartbreaking especially Minji who cried all night not leaving her room at all. You tried your best to convince her but to no vail. It also didn't help that after announcing their divorce, they were to leave the household the next day.

The dreadful day finally came as Minji finally came out of her room looking tired and lifeless. She moved towards her father's car with no motivation as all you can do was watch from afar. You clenched your fist as this was now or never. You have to say your goodbye to her.

"Hey, Kim Minji."

Calling her out made her finally look at you as you tried your best not to feel sad for her. With a deep breath you said

"I'll never forget you Minji. I'm sure we'll see each other again. For now, this is goodbye but someday this goodbye will turn to hello and we would be smiling to each other again."

You assured Minji that you two will see each other again and the possibility of having a reunion is always possible. Your warm smile radiated so much as Minji will surely miss it. Minji smiled back knowing this was the last time you'll be seeing her smile warmly at you.

.

.

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TIMESKIP: 5 YEARS LATER

.

.

.

"Fuck this. I can't even finish this one subject."

You sighed as you and your 2 college buddies wore a boring and exhausted face as the test earlier really drained your energy.

"That test is straight up bullshit. How can He give questions that are not even taught to us? Like how? What the hell?"

Felix, your first friend said as you nodded your head.

"Yeah shit mate, tell me about it ey. Being dumb and unattractive is a painful combination to have. I mean look at us mate, we're dumb and no girlfriend."

Christopher Chan, your second friend said as you scoffed at his comment. Sure you had your few runs on some blind dates but it all ended in vain as nobody was able to click your interest. Not only that, but the subjects you were taking in university had taken a huge toll on your time.

"But I did hear a new student in campus is beautiful as fuck. Some are even saying she's sculpted by the gods."

Felix explain the rumor that was going through around the campus lately. Of course you were caught by this rumor as you would be lying if you say that you weren't interested in such topic. Chan just scoffed and said

"Ain’t no way Mate. That's just a rumor ey. If that is true then I'm betting my Straykids Photocard right now."

Felix smirked and nodded his head.

"Alright, I'll bet my Izone Chaewon photocard for that."

"Oooh it's on mate-"

The two shook hand behind you as they glared one another as if they were ready to go to war at each other. You on the other hand was lost in your thoughts as a sudden memory of Minji appeared on your head. There was no moment where you can't forgot about the time you and Minji spent together. There would be times where you would ask yourself if Minji was alright and doing well. It's been 5 years since you last saw each other and there was no form of communication between you two. There was fear within yourself that Minji must have forgotten about you considering it wasn't even a year since you two met and made memories.

"I wonder what's Minji doing now. She would probably be in college right now as well."

You could only sigh as you continued to walk leaving your two friends arguing with each other. You enjoyed the silence of the campus as the soft breeze pass by the threes. It's cute whistle was good music in your opinion-

"Y/N Oppa?"

You turned your head towards the voice was and you widen your eyes. You stood frozen to your feet as a girl stared at you. Something about her seems so familiar yet you couldn't pin point it.

"M-Minji? I-Is that you?"

Upon hearing your voice. Minji smiled brightly and dashed towards you hugging you tightly. The familiar feeling of comfort and sweetnes returned to you as memories flashed through your mind. Minji was back in your arms and was able to-

"Wait Minji, you can talk now?"

Minji pulled away from you as her smile never disappeared from her face. She nodded her head vigorously indicating that your assumption is correct.

"Yes, My Dad found a really good doctor in America and with enough therapy, I got my voice back."

"That’s... That's awesome! Your-mmhpjh?"

Minji placed a finger on your mouth telling you to shut it as she giggled and removed it. Seeing Minji again for so long made you see how beautiful she really was.

"Oppa. Do you have a girlfriend?"

"What? What do you mea-"

"No, actually I don't care if you have one or even if it's a 3D woman. I'm gonna steal you from her."

Now that was a bold statement coming from her.

"Wait Minji. Did your personality changed too?"

"Hmm? Nope. I love you Oppa. Be my boyfriend."

"Wait what?"

You were stunned to speak yet Minji smiled happily and to add more suprise, She kissed your cheeks leaving you a blushing mess. She could only giggle at your red tomato head and flustered face.

"Since we're no longer Step siblings. I'm legally allowed to marry you. And for the record, I actually fell in love with you when you saved me from those bullies before.”

Her smile never disappeared yet you were to perplexed to say anything. You also found it very weird how your heart was racing to the max and Minji was now looking more prettier than before. When you finally got your senses back, the first words that came out of your mouth was

“You like me?”

She giggled and nodded her head. 

“Shall I prove it?”

Minji closed the gap between you and her as she grabbed your cheeks and pulled you down to her level and kissed your forehead. Butterflies and fireworks was all over your body as you felt explosions everywhere. Minji has changed as the shy cute girl was gone and infront of you was a more mature beautiful version of Minji.

 “Let's go Oppa. Help me around Campus will yah? hehehe~"

Without even saying a thing, Minji hooked her arm around yours and pulled you away from your spot. You were taking everything in but if there was thing on your head, it was that.....

"Minji likes me? And I think.....I like her too...”

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[theyrealllesbians]

Wedding Season- Chapter 2

James swung the front door open and called out. "Hello!"

Euphemia, his mum, came running from the kitchen. "Jamie, darling. It's so good to see you, it's been too long."

"Mum, it's literally only been a week. I also spoke to you on the phone on Wednesday." He laughed.

"Oh well that's far too long." Euphemia grabbed at his face and brought his forehead down to rest against hers momentarily before pulling back and kissing his cheek. James pretended to ignore the way that she had to go on her tip-toes to reach him, deciding to save the 'you'll always be my baby' lecture until it actually mattered. "Where are Sirius and Remus, I thought that they were coming with you?" She asked, turning towards the kitchen whilst wiping her hands on an apron James recognised from his childhood.

"They couldn't make it. They have some wedding stuff they desperately wanted to get done tonight. Booking vendors or cake tasting or flowers or something like that. Honestly, I can't remember." James had begun to tune Sirius out whenever he spoke about the wedding. It was a never ending rant about carnations and vanilla sponge, burlap or silk, fairy lights or lamps, martinis or an old fashioned and quite frankly, James could not listen to one more second. Besides, Sirius had a way of making every decision seem like a life or death situation. As a result, James would often than not end up getting yelled at when he chose the 'wrong' shade of white for the chairs. He loved Sirius more than anything, but in order to stay friends with him, James had made the executive decision to step back from all wedding decisions. Besides, Remus and the wedding planner told him everything he needed to know as part of being the best man. So he really wasn't missing much. It's not that he didn't expect Sirius to go full on bridezilla, because he did. It's just that he didn't quite realise how many little decisions went into planning a wedding. Since 'helping' Sirius and Remus, James has decided that when he gets married, it'll be a small affair. Probably in his parent's garden, with food that he and his mum cooked, flowers picked from his own garden and outfits that they'd both wear for anniversary dates time and time again. He wanted to be able to remember the love, not the little stressors that -at the time- would seem to derail the entire day.

"Oh, I remember those days. So exciting, but unbelievably stressful, be sure to send them my love. And I'll send you home with some bits and bobs to give them." By 'bits and bobs' James knew he'd be leaving with at least a months worth of food. He'd be playing tetris with his freezer tonight, he would never dare complain though, his mum's food was the best he'd ever tasted. Besides, he would never pass up the opportunity to not have to cook after a long day at work. Sirius and Remus would be endlessly grateful as well.

"I will do. Sirius is desperate to see you, so I'm sure he'll be here next week." James let his mum know.

"Oh well you know he doesn't have to wait till a Sunday to come see me. Even if he just wanted to pop in for lunch, I'd love to have him."

"I know, and he does as well. I think it's just slipped his mind because of how busy he is. I'll remind him though." Sirius had a habit of this, withdrawing whenever life got busy. He'd prioritise his work and keeping the house clean, often forgetting that he could also make time to decompress and see the people he loved. Luckily it only took James or Remus forcing him to leave his office for him to get back into a normal routine in which he wasn't being stretched unbelievably thin or being wound incredibly tight. James could never quite tell if it was some form of trauma response, or whether it was just the way that Sirius was wired. Either way, he's gotten better compared to when they were at school. During A-levels, James doesn't think Sirius left their dorm for anything other than food for at least 2 weeks. Despite the fact that at least 50% of the time, if someone checked on him, he wasn't actually doing any revision. James didn't really understand it. He pulled out his phone and added 'call Moony/ drag Pads out the house' onto his ever growing to do list.

"What can I help with?" James asked, rolling his sleeves up while walking over to the sink to start washing his hands.

"Oh, there's nothing really." His mum responded whilst opening the 5th can of what looked like crushed tomatoes. James looked around and spotted 3 pack of unopened whole chickens, a pile of uncut vegetables and several pots on the hob that were dangerously close to boiling over.

"Mum, stop lying. How about I break down the chicken?" He knew his mum didn't really like cutting the chicken. As she grew older, it just got harder and harder for her to break the bones and separate the breast from the thighs. He grabbed a knife and a chopping board from their respective drawers before she could even answer.

"Oh well, if you don't mind." His mum shrugged before turning round to face him and quickly rattling off a series of instructions. "Make sure you get as much meat of the bones as possible, I won't stand to see it wasted. But keep the bones in the thighs, you know it's your father's favourite bit. Oh, and don't throw away the wish bone. We can break it after dinner. Then I need the breast diced and adding to the pot at the back. The dark meat is going in a new pot. Everything else can get turned into stock. Oh, and be careful! Don't cut yourself!"

James huffed out a laugh, "I'm 26, I think I'll be fine."

"Oh, you never know. They're pesky little things, let me know if you need any help." James turned around to face the chopping board before rolling his eyes. Yes, he was 26, a full grown adult who was no longer living with his parents, but he would not be caught rolling his eyes at his mother. It was a death sentence.

"Will do. Anyways, how've you been?" James asked, unwrapping the first chicken.

"Oh, you know, same old, same old." His mum always said this right before delving into some local drama that was in fact not 'same old, same old'. "Your dad has been driving me mad asking what shade of red roses I want in the garden. And I just quite frankly, do not care. They will look lovely no matter what. Oh, but did I tell you about what happened with the Wilson's?" Here we go.

"No, I don't think you did. Are they the ones with the ginger cat?" James swears that cat should've died years ago. He remembers it from when he was a child. Remembers the way it would try and bite at his ankles any time he walked past.

"Yes, wretched thing. Anyways, apparently Richard tried to murder Margaret last week."

"What?!" James exclaimed, turning around to face his mum. She didn't move.

"Yeah, Judith got a call from him on, when was it, Tuesday I think. Or maybe Wednesday. And she came round and told me straight away. Apparently, Richard had gotten himself in a panic over the online banking as Margaret doesn't know any of the passwords and he tried to smother her with a pillow. The police came round and had to take both mine and your father's statements, even though your dad knew nothing of what was going on. They took him straight to a special care home and are talking about court dates. Bless them though, you never would have guessed it would you."

"No, I suppose not. He always seemed pretty decent. Always gave me the football back after I kicked it in their garden."

"Exactly, and that's what I said to the police. Never would think of him to even hurt a fly. I mean the amount of eggs I have borrowed from him, you'd think he'd want me dead. But no, he always said yes as long as I brought him round a slice of cake I baked, and you know I always did." James let his mother's voice carry him into a slower motion, letting his shoulders drop and jaw relax more than it had in the past week. Something about the smell of his parent's fabric softener and the spices slowly cooking drifted him into a dream like state. One where his own bones grew warm and his skin infinitely softer. He wished he could bottle this feeling and get drunk on it every night.

"James!" His mother yelled, smashing his peace into a thousand splintering pieces.

"What? What's happened?" He span around, eyes trailing over everything trying desperately to spot the danger.

"Nothing." He let out a sigh. "I was asking how you're week had been?"

"Oh, yeah it's been fine. Busy though. I've been working with this little girl, about 7, helping her walk again. She's making really good progress, but she's absolutely terrified. She had this pin through her foot diagonally, and her mum says she accidentally put her foot down quite a bit when she still had it in. Didn't hurt her much, but must've been a weird, uncomfortable sensation. I mean I got the heebie-jeebies just thinking about it. But yeah, it's been really nice seeing her get excited about walking again. Beats having to convince all the 17 year old lads that they won't actually be 'just fine' if they play for their club on Saturday." It's not like he had favourites, but it was easy to say that those who would greet him with a hug and tell him all about their teddies made his day just that bit brighter. James truly loved his job, he had to. If he didn't love it, he wouldn't be able to do it. He never intended to be a paediatric physiotherapist, he always wanted to go into rugby professionally. Ironically, it was Lily who was able to talk him into reconsidering his options, albeit not in the most conventional ways. She had said that he was 'too clever to let his brain get all mangled up, and that he was too much of a good person to let himself pick such a selfish career path filled with egotistical twats'. After a while, he did realise that he wanted to have a secure career and feel like he was making a difference in the world. He couldn't give up sport entirely though. So, during the week, he works for the NHS and in the evenings and at select weekends, he's the physio for the local rugby club. Seeing some of the injuries those players got helped him gain confidence in his decision very quickly.

"That's lovely, darling. Horrible thing for such a young child to go through, but I'm happy she's got the best helping her." His mum winked at him as she said that.

"I mean, it's not as bad as it sounds. She had corrective surgery, but it's meant that she hasn't been able to walk in around 9 months. So I reckon it'll take a while, but she's sweet and her parents are lovely, so I'm happy to spend as long as it takes helping."

"I'm sure that you are, love. You have always been so keen to help others. It is one of your better qualities." His mum grinned at him, suppressing a laugh.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" He asked, adding the chicken to each respective pot.

"We both remember how many phone calls I used to get from Minnie?" His mum says Minnie as, to James and Sirius's horror, she'd ended up becoming quite good friends with McGonagall. In fact, they try to meet up every month for tea and a catch up since they've all finished school.

"That's so not fair. I'm an adult now. I've grown up." James drew out the last syllable, quickly defeating his own argument by sounding like a whiny toddler.

"Yes, yes, of course you have, babu." His mum smiled at him again as she continued to tend to the food cooking. "Did you get the invite for Priya's wedding?" Priya was James's cousin on his mum's side. He actually quite liked her when they were growing up. She was only a year older than him so they formed a little alliance along with his other cousins of a similar age.

"Yeah, yeah I did. I think I got it a couple months ago." James had added it to the shrine of wedding invites adorning his fridge. "Yeah, it's at the end of August right?"

"The 31st, yes. Remember, a lot of family that we haven't seen in ages is flying over, so you better be on your best behaviour." His mum fixed him with a firm stare.

"Again, I am 26." He knew this would have little to no effect on his mum's conviction that somehow he'd become the family laughing stock in one singular evening.

"Okay. Still, make sure that you are letting everyone see how happy and successful you are. You know that I only want you to be happy, but my sisters aren't as forward thinking as me so be sure to mention that you are top of your field."

"Well that's a lie." James replied outright, furrowing his brows in confusion whilst laughing to himself. He'd only been in the field for 3 years, so he wasn't sure what his mum was on about.

"You've got the best reviews in your hospital." His mum replied matter-of-factly, as if they were at all comparable.

"Okay, yes, sure. I'll be sure to tell them about my career so that you can have bragging rights." He chuckled as he said this.

"James! Take this seriously!" His mum started waving the spoon she had in her hand in his direction. James was forced to take a step back to save his freshly ironed shirt from being stained.

"Yes, James, take it seriously!" His father added, walking into the kitchen while shaking his finger in a comedic manner. "You know how important it is for your mother to brag to others about our family. You can't let her down by underselling your achievements." His dad had a cheeky smile dancing across his lips showing that he didn't take it seriously either, but Fleamont Potter would never be caught, even in death, not having his wife's back.

"Oh, if you can, be sure to mention that Remus has just opened his own business and that Sirius wrote and directed the christmas nativity!"

"Will do." James and his dad reply in unison.

"Oh, and James? Are you bringing a date?" silver eyes flashed through James's mind, "I only ask because everyone has been asking me if you've met anyone!"

"I wasn't planning on it." James shrugged, trying his best to act nonchalant.

"You might want to rethink that kid. You know how your mother's family can be once they sense a bit of drama." James shuddered a little at the thought of answering a hundred questions about his love life after he'd drank a couple glasses of wine.

"Oh, come off it. My family is not like that. They all just care about James's happiness, that's all. Don't make it out to be something cruel." His mum sniped back. His dad only looked at James again, a long pointed look.

"I'll think about it." James said. Surely it wouldn't be too hard to find a date, if only for a couple weddings.

"Oh! Does that mean you already have someone in mind?" His mum swung her head round so she could look at James. Walking forward to grip his forearms.

"Mum!" He exclaimed, "I just said that I would think about it!" The feeling of fluffy black hair beneath his fingertips shot down his spine.

"Oh! You're blushing! There is someone!" His mum was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

"Mum…" James groaned, hanging his head.

"Euphie, leave him alone. If the boy says there's no one, there's no one. We have to believe what he tells us, otherwise we'll go insane." His dad placed a hand on his mum's shoulder and steered her away from James.

"Thanks. I guess?" James smiled at his dad. His dad simply grinned and winked right back. Great, so his dad did not believe what he was saying either, and his mum was clearly already planning his wedding.

Brilliant.

[vidalinav]

Stu(died): Chapter 6

Summary: Finals week and Cassian’s birthday

Masterlist, Stu(died) Chapter List

I don’t know if anyone really follows this anymore or if anyone even remembers what happened last chapter, but... I finished this chapter. Nesta’s a bit aggressive in this one btw. 

~

Nesta will blame it all on these godforsaken holidays.

That’s why she goes to Cassian’s family dinner and stays through the night, because the cheer has her in a chokehold and she can barely gasp a no. That’s why she behaves nicer than she is. That’s why she doesn’t bother arguing when his mom asks what they are to each other. Tutor x Student? This is not a fanfiction!

It must be the lights, the cheer, the joy that regrettably seeps into her skin and drowns her in glitter. That’s why Nesta stays and talks in a voice so soft she can barely recognize herself. She looks in the mirror, too, that day to see if the difference in her persona is a tangible thing, something that she can turn on and off like the bathroom light switch, but all she sees are fake reindeer ears and snowman pajamas.  

Who are you?  

So, Nesta decides that an alien who likes Christmas and being well fed has inhabited her body. And it’s an alien that kisses Cassian that night. 

The real Nesta would never do such a thing.  

The real Nesta is a professional. Strictly business. Cassian is a student and tutoring is her job, and she contemplates this as she watches him across the table, biting at a pen. What if he makes a mistake, she thinks. Pens over pencils?  

He leaves teeth marks on the cap, and she wonders what the alien sees in him. A guy who leaves all his mistakes on paper. He’s left-handed too which makes it worse. All the ink is smudged, and his palm is a Smurf level of blue.

Cassian doesn’t care. Cassian doesn’t care about anything.  

Then why did he give you a gift? Why did he invite you? Why does he stay?

The alien speaks and it’s decidedly in Cassian’s favor.   

“So,” Cassian drags, “I know you don’t like going out. Or at least you prefer to be staying in, but I thought we could do something next Wednesday.” 

Cassian taps his pen against the table in way her heart has repeated every time she thinks of that night. The christmas lights. The warmth in her chest. The soreness in her arms because they were wrapped so tightly around him. 

But Nesta does what she does best, dismissing him with a simple shrug of her shoulders, giving nothing away. Because there is nothing there. She’s his tutor.  

“Wednesday’s a school night.” 

“You’re in college,” Cassian counters.  

“And college is still school,” Nesta says, shaking her head a little too abruptly.

Everything feels abrupt. Wrong. The oddity of the movement has her scrunching her nose. Why is she nervous suddenly? That must be what this feeling is. Apprehension. Danger. A terrible need to hide. She doesn’t feel this way decorating the tree at his house, not even meeting his family. No, in fact...

She feels like she belongs there. 

Nesta doesn’t even belong here, in this body, sitting in this room, watching this boy-man-child-person rattle the table with his jostling knee, playing drums with writing utensils. 

So, Nesta breathes in a disgruntled sigh, and raises her chin like a bad habit. 

“I’m busy Wednesday,” Nesta says, her voice final, like she’s ending an essay and hitting submit. Grade me harshly, she thinks, but this is business. This is education. This is forward thinking. 

It will be better this way, she thinks. But like many other times before, Nesta isn’t sure who this is better for. It’s all muddled up in her brain, because this is what Cassian does. He confuses. He distracts. 

And Cassian never stops prodding like he should. In fact, he leans back in his chair, a certain smirk on his face meaning he’s ready to negotiate. Dinner and movies and after session snacks and walking her home and buying her books. It’s always that smirk and sometimes it’s a soft, gentle smile right after she agrees, breathless and bitter that he convinces her so easily. 

It’s an indecent look. One so confidently sure of himself that Nesta’s sure she’s not staring at the same Cassian.

Her heart pounds in her chest and Cassian, the alien, smirks. “Well, I was hoping you could find someone to cover your shift.”  

“And why would I do that?”  

There it is. Cassian smiles and it’s reminiscent to a holiday. Glee inducing. Glitter infested. Green and red and bright, retro lights. Trees taller than she is and warmth. Warmth to chase away the bitter frost. 

He leans his head in his palm and he smiles as he places the pen behind his ear, chewed up cap and all. 

“It’s my birthday next Wednesday,” he says as if Nesta doesn’t already know. She does. She knows too much about him. She’ll blame it on that forgettable freshman year, the semester he sullied his name and ruined their chances of... friendship. He did this to himself, she thinks. 

Cassian leans closer, a covetous whisper of his words like he’s keeping some secret. I’ll share this with you, she reads from his tone. 

Share this with me, the alien agrees. 

“I want to spend it with you. I thought we could see a movie.” 

Because she’s been talking about wanting to see one--or rather complaining that she never has the time. 

Cassian leans back as if he’s ready to hear her terms, but Nesta holds her breath. She tries to will her heart to stop sounding like drums. She swears she can hear it get louder, a whole orchestra sitting in her chest. 

I hate movies sits right on her tongue, but that alien squanders the thought. Oh no, the alien thinks, you want this. The alien is joyous. The alien likes this attention. 

So it’s no wonder when the alien takes control, pushing that ridiculous need to panic outside of her body. 

“What movie?” it asks. 

Cassian’s eyes widen and he shoves his notebook away as if it’s blocking his view. “You agree?”  

“I didn’t agree,” Nesta says, defensively, “I asked what the movie will be.”  

But Cassian shakes his head. His hair is neatly tucked behind his floral scrunchie and a few curling wisps of black escape at his neck. Regrettably, she feels a strange urge to grab at the straying piece and tug. 

But she hates that scrunchie. She hates his hair that’s never neat. She hates the indecent way he walks through this earth as if already knowing who he is. Where is his confusion? Where is his fear? 

“We can see any movie you want, but I think you’ll want to see that horror movie coming out.”  

Nesta scoffs, “You hate horror movies.”   

“I don’t hate you, though,” he quips, his lips tucking up fondly. A little comically. A little too neat and nonchalant. A little too calm and self-assured.  

Maybe an alien is inhabiting his body.  One side of his lips is raised and his eyes are a rich shade of amber in this library light, and she wonders... are you flirting with me?  

I hate you sits right on her tongue, so immediate she almost says it aloud.

Only the alien stops her from spewing the words. Rip if off like a Band-Aid, she argues. Then he can hate her and go find a new tutor and she’ll never have to see him again. The alien doesn’t like that thought at all. She feels her stomach drop at the thought, dipping like she’s racing down a hill. 

Maybe she’ll puke and this will all be over with. 

But if he does get a new tutor, someone else will have to tap at his notebook five hundred times and sigh this one, Cassian!  Someone else will have to keep him focused and resist his bribery, his negotiation, his eyes and his hair and his voice. 

“This one, Cassian,” she hears herself tiredly sigh, when he looks back to his homework a little too lost to have been paying attention this whole time. “Anyways, I can’t get it off. I need two weeks' notice for things like that and Janie won’t cover for me. She’s going back home after her last final.”  

Cassian frowns and Nesta ignores how that expression makes her feel. She is tired of feeling, she decides. “I’ll still see you that day, right?”  

He sounds desperate. Likes she’s ruined his hopes and his dreams. Nesta refrains from telling him that his work ethic will do that for him. 

“We have a tutoring session in the morning. As is my job.”  

“You’re job... Right...” But Cassian merely nods, instead of arguing like she thinks he might. “I’ll take it,” he says, seemingly content with the bare minimum she gives. 

But the alien inside of her sits back, wound tight and ruthless... it is not satisfied with bare minimum. 

It is not tired of feeling. 

~

The house is warm, but Nesta’s face is still red. There seems to be a permanent state of cold that’s been permeating her body and it’s not another of bout of sickness that would have her regrettably missing Wednesday. Her nose is cold to the touch and her feet, though covered in enough socks to be safe enough as shoes, are freezing. She looks in the glare of the microwave and even there she can see it. 

She looks like fucking Rudolph. 

And yet, instead of lying in her bed, smothering herself in blankets, and turning on the space heater that may or may not light her room on fire, she is in the kitchen, trying not to put her head in the stand mixer. 

“Woah,” Emerie says, dropping her towel where she pats at her wet hair. Nesta sighs before facing her loving, but judgmental friend. What will she say at her flushed cheeks? “Are you... baking?”  

“No,” Nesta answers quickly, rolling her eyes. “Can’t you see? I’m trying to get the mixer to knock some sense into me.” 

“Well your head might be too big to fit in that bowl,” Emerie jests. “Have you tried the emulsion blender and the big pot?”   

Nesta only sighs, her gaze moving across the endless about of mixing bowls. Is this what hell feels like?   

“Hmm,” Emerie says, “you’re doing your lovesick sigh. Must be serious if you’re baking and sighing. Anyone I know?” 

Emerie gives her a pointed look, one just as indecent as Cassian’s smile. 

Cassian. Cassian. Cassian. 

Cassian who can’t get out of her head. 

But instead of replying, Nesta straightens her stance and runs her hand through her hair, tugging at the ponytail. Get it together, she repeats to herself. “Nothing’s serious. I just wanted dessert is all.” 

“You’ve never touched a whisk a day in your life.”

Nesta scoffs, “that’s not true. I licked the batter off of it the last time you made cake, remember.” 

“I do actually,” Emerie nods wistfully. “That was good cake.” 

She moves to inspect the counter where Nesta currently rests her head in defeat. There’s flour and eggs and milk and oil. Sugar and baking powder, and there’s too many bowls for Nesta to know what to do with. Who needs this many bowls? What person decided they needed 15 plus bowls in their pantry? 

“You have flour in your hair, you know.” 

Nesta shrugs, “casualty of war.” 

“Ahh, must be about someone I know then. You only start mentioning war when you’re too busy fighting your feelings.” Emerie chuckles at the seemingly clever thing she says, but Nesta doesn’t find her words so amusing. 

“I have no feelings,” Nesta answers immediately. “In fact, I don’t even want make this cake anymore. I’m tired, actually.” 

“I mean... it is exhausting hiding from the truth.” 

Nesta glares up at her friend, but Emerie only smiles wider at her look. Of course, she’d have friends who found her glares endearing. How inconvenient, she decides. Next time, she’ll pick friends who hate the same things she does... or have no friends at all. 

But that thought makes her chest ache, so she dismisses it quickly. 

Emerie points to the mixture of melted chocolate. “For Cassian right? When is his birthday again?” 

Nesta sighs, lowering her head once more on the counter. 

“December 16th.”

“So you’re dating now?”

Nesta scoffs, wondering how Emerie reaches that conclusion. But Emerie merely points to the spoon covered in a fluff of butter and sugar, as if that will convince Nesta of how ridiculous she seems. 

“No we’re not,” she remarks sternly. 

“Nesta... you’re baking a cake.”  

“I like cake.” Which is true. It’s her favorite dessert. She happens to be lucky her younger sister lives hours away, or she’d eat it every day. As is her right. 

“Okay,” Emerie shrugs simply. “Then you’re baking a cake when you have a final tomorrow and you could be studying.”  

“I’m taking a break! Aren’t you the one always going on about self-care?” Nesta can’t help but wrinkle her nose, grumbling about being reminded of her impending doom. Because she does have a final tomorrow. A final she could be studying for if not for the fact that a frat boy has her in a chokehold. 

Take your fucking cake and be done with me, Nesta thinks violently. 

Emerie waves a hand, “That’s to Gwyn. To you, I say there’s a hunky boy that follows you around like a lost puppy, and you are under no obligation to like him but...” Emerie’s words hush to a whisper and she puts her hand to her lips as if keeping a secret. 

Everyone with their fucking secrets!

“I think it’s clear that you do.”  

“No,” Nesta dismisses, shaking her head. “Negative.”  

“Denials not just a river in Egypt,” Emerie sings.

“What about Egypt?” Gwyn inquires. The door shuts abruptly and Gwyn sets down her bag of books with a loud thud. Emerie tuts, because it’s obvious she’s been studying instead of taking a break like she’s been trying to encourage. 

Gwyn doesn’t take a break for anyone.  

And neither does Nesta... usually. Neither does Nesta always and it doesn’t matter if this class is an elective that was never really that hard, she should be studying to make sure without a doubt she doesn’t miss one problem. 

But Emerie doesn’t goad at their friend, instead she takes a piece of chocolate off the counter and raises it to her lips. “I was just telling Nesta here that's she’s obviously infatuated with our nosy neighbor. Why else would she be baking?”

“You’re baking?” Gwyn questions, thoroughly astonished. “What 18th century novel have we set foot in where you’ve suddenly gone domestic? Is this what love does?” 

Gwyn blinks and for a moment Nesta doesn’t know what to do with that expression, but then Gwyn is moving to the couch, picking up the bag of brightly colored balloons. “Is this what the bat is for? You told me it was for your sister.”

Emerie’s brows furrow and she looks to Nesta confused. “Bat?”    

She means the stuffed bat that Nesta picks up at the giftshop Gwyn sometimes works at, near the hospital. Nesta volunteers there so... what can she do? It’s just there and Gwyn is laughing while she blows up balloons, telling her that she gets a 30% discount on all the things and suddenly Nesta is grabbing the black toy. It’s a heating pad just like her lobster. 

It doesn’t make any sense, but Nesta also buys a card. It’s the alien! 

Happy birthday, you old bat, it writes. 

Nesta grimaces, but when she looks up at her friends, she throws up her hands. “We’ve known each other for two years! It’s just a friendly tutoring gift. Like good luck with the semester, thanks for keeping me employed. Hope you fail again soon. It means nothing!” 

But at her outburst--which is a little too high-strung that even Nesta blinks at her own antics--Emerie backtracks.  Emerie fiddles with a spatula on the counter, turning it over and her voice gentles into a soft tone, all placating like she’s a child.

Great... now she’s hysterical. 

“You know it’s okay if it does mean something. You are allowed to like someone. It’s a perfectly okay thing to do... and it’s just as well if it is or if it isn’t Cassian.” Emerie places her hand on Nesta’s arms and Nesta tries not to shirk in on herself. 

This is what she hates. She can feel it like a lump in her throat. The feeling of being seen, watched, peeled away layer by layer as if she means to rip off her skin and discover all the secrets Nesta hides. She hoards them away like a little dragon and her gold. What will they do once they find it, she fears. How will they ruin her? 

Danger. Danger. Danger. 

She feels unsafe. Nesta shakes her head, her face feeling hot and she wants to go to her room, except that’s the cowards way out and she can’t be seen like a coward. She’s a bad bitch. She feels nothing. 

“I say this because I want you to know that we love you whether you date this man or not. Whether you date anyone or not.” 

Gwyn shrugs though her lips don’t raise comfortingly like Emerie’s. She’s rather upfront as she says, “we love you so much that we’ll threaten his favorite part if he hurts you. I know several ways we can make it look like an accident.” 

Nesta laughs a short sound. “So do I,” she says, softly, suddenly tired. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Emerie waves, “we can help hide the body and all that jazz... but can we also help with this cake? Do you want help with this cake?” 

I want you to stop looking at me, Nesta thinks. 

“I wish Cassian had never come into our lives,” she answers, though she doesn’t know how honest her words are or what they actually mean. 

Nesta lays her head on the counter, contemplating the emulsion blender and that giant pot Cassian had made her soup in. She wonders if flour is as hard to clean as glitter or if it will stay on her face and her clothes for a little bit longer, evidence of her crime. 

But Nesta concedes to the offered help. If she ropes Emerie and Gwyn into this then at least she’ll have someone to blame when Cassian inevitably starts asking questions. 

~

“It’s a little misshapen,” Nesta says and it is. At best, it reminds her of the one from Harry Potter--massive letters spanning the entirety of the cake. But at least, she spells all the words correctly. It could have had an entirely different name on it, too, which Nesta contemplates doing more than once as she frosts.

Cassian looks to the cake like it’s made of pure gold and any mentions of Caspian, Callum, Carlos, and Cade fall off of her tongue. Because C.A.S.S.I.A.N is written in big, bold, blue lettering, just like the corners of her notebook when she absently scribbles.

Cassian lights up somehow when he smiles, and his lips are wide staring at the chocolate. The hazel shine like a warm cup of tea and she can see all of the amber swirls. Rich cinnamon. A baker’s dream. A reader’s paradise. 

He is the embodiment of the word cozy... just like being in the library, surrounded by all these books.

But these feelings are made up of lies, she tells herself, and his face makes her want to puke. At the very least, she’s starting to feel nauseous and she wonders if Cassian can tell. She practices schooling her facial expressions in the mirror to look aloof and she hopes the hour has done her well, because her cheeks are starting to feel warm. 

She looks red, looks dire and distressed in that mirror. She looks like she is going to fail a test--has already failed it and there’s nothing to do to save her grade. She’s being dramatic, Nesta keeps repeating to herself, but the words do nothing to make her seem calm. 

She doesn’t think she seems calm now, but Nesta will keep telling pretty lies. She’ll keep swallowing them, pushing past the lump in her throat. She’ll fill her stomach with something that soothes. 

“You made this?” Cassian asks.

Nesta shrugs, trying not to fiddle with the sleeves of her sweater because she can help the movement. She’s in control of her body and she always has been. She is a stronger bitch than this. 

And a cake is no big deal, she reminds herself. She can make cake for anyone, even herself. If Nesta wants cake, she can make cake and she can eat the entire thing in one go. She could even take back this one and run. 

But Cassian gathers his arms around the base of the cake as if wanting to tuck it to his chest, and suddenly she remembers the thought from freshman year. That he must give good hugs.

Nesta recoils, tucking her arms across her stomach.

“I almost don’t want to eat it,” Cassian notes lightly. 

Nesta startles in her seat. 

“You have to eat it,” Nesta demands, forcefully. She’s been staring at that cake every time she opens the fridge and it takes every bit of willpower not to say to hell with Cassian and eat it herself. She’ll be damned if he doesn’t let her eat some of it. Isn’t that what Emerie keeps saying last night? That she can make her cake and eat it too. That it will be her reward. 

“I made it for you,” she argues and she can feel her face getting hot. “Why wouldn’t you eat it? Isn’t that bad luck or something?”

“Bad luck? Like a fortune cookie?”  

“Bad luck like a curse. You don’t eat it and you don’t get your birthday wish.” 

Cassian’s lips raise lightly, slowly, schemingly. “I get... a birthday wish?” 

Nesta pauses, hearing how the words sounds. They sound childish and stupid. This will ruin her street cred’. She’s not going to be the smart one anymore. She’s the stupid one. The one who makes up things that don’t even make sense. 

“But you have to know...” he trails off, shaking his head as if it’s obvious.  

Nesta refrains from yelling get on with it as she asks, “know what?” 

Cassian squints, his gaze focusing on her face, curious but apprehensive all at once. Cassian laughs, but the sound is short. Almost scared. 

“So, when we were in freshman year, I had a whole day planned about how I wanted to spend my birthday. My family had plans too, they were going to come up and take us all out to dinner. Do it big. Fancy steak house and... I don’t know, go carts or something. They said it was my first birthday away from them and they wanted it to be special.” 

“Okay.” 

“I told them to stay home, because I wanted to spend it with you.” Cassian gives her a knowing look, but Nesta doesn’t know anything, so she keeps quiet, leaning on every word. “In my mind, it would have probably been dinner too, the seafood place that’s a bit out of town, and maybe the bookstore because I figured if I could get you into a bookstore, you’d start talking about your romances and I could play down the fact that I was nervous as hell and I didn’t know what to say.” 

“You were the only person I wanted to spend my birthday with. It’s like... I met you and it was only you from then on.” Cassian shrugs, lightly, and Nesta watches as he closes his notebook, with an air of finality. As if to say studying is not as important as you. As bold of a claim as it is. 

“So you have to know, Nesta. The only wish I have is you.” 

The only wish I have is you. 

The only wish I have is you. 

The only wish I have is you. 

The words replay in her mind and Nesta can feel her face getting warm. Her chest feels different. Nausea, maybe... so Nesta, stares at the textbooks instead of looking into his eyes. 

She snaps her fingers quickly. “I think you’ll understand this chapter more if I can find this textbook I’ve been meaning to give you. I’m going to go check.” 

“Right now?” Cassian asks, astonished. 

Nesta shrugs, nonchalantly. “No time like the present.” 

“Nesta...” 

But she moves, swiftly from the table and into the aisles, willing herself to not look back--hoping upon hoping that he will leave her alone. 

Cassian follows her with a soft call of her name. “Nesta...” 

“Nesta,” Cassian speaks, hushing his tone to not disturb the one or two other students they pass along the way. Nesta doesn’t know how far she’ll go, but she’s hoping she’ll make it to Australia by Tuesday... or at least deep enough for Cassian to give up, inevitably resigned to the fact that she won’t be distracted in her pursuit. Just ignore him, she thinks. “I don’t need a textbook right now. You don’t need a textbook.” 

“I think your grades would beg to differ.” 

“Did something I say bother you?” 

“Your entire being is bothering me,” Nesta scoffs. 

“Bothered how?”

But Nesta keeps moving, her head straight and her gaze straight ahead. 

Cassian grabs her arm, a strong but gentle pressure. Nesta eyes the touch, startled by the fact that she doesn’t immediately shrug him off. “Tell me so I can make you feel better.”  

“As if you have so much control over me,” she says, though she still doesn’t shove him away. 

“No, but you have control over me,” Cassian says, loudly. Nesta gives him a dirty look for speaking so loudly in the quieter part of the library, and he looks apologetically at her. Then he rolls his eyes, smiling fondly as if to say see. “I want to please you, to make you happy... and I thought I was doing a horrible job until that kiss.” 

“Don’t bring up that kiss,” she said, loud and outraged and also furious that he has her yelling in a library. 

“Why?” Cassian goads, pushing the conversation forward, which is so unlike him to do. “You kissed me, remember.” 

“You invited me to spend Thanksgiving with your family, and besides you didn’t push me away.” 

“Oh no, I wanted to kiss you.”

Nesta crosses her arms, giving him a look that means there will be no arguing with her. “Well you shouldn’t.” 

But Cassian’s lips raise, undignified and stupid. “In fact I want you to kiss me again.” 

He moves closer to her and Nesta takes several steps back. He’s as tall as she remembers, and there’s no comforting table or textbooks that stand between like a barrier. She supposes she could grab one from the shelf and chuck it, hope it meets his face. She can run. She can transfer schools. 

But that would disrespecting the books and that thought has her clenching her impulsive fists. He’s tall and he smells good. Pages and pillows and soft sheets. Something like fresh air. Something a little darker with more muted notes. A little like getting lost in the woods. 

A little like being found. 

Cassian looms over her and for once he doesn’t back away and Nesta doesn’t assert space. He raises his hand, his palm gently, hovering close to her skin... waiting to see what she’ll do if he gets close. Nesta closes her eyes and Cassian trails a thumb down her lips as if tracing a map. 

“Do you want me to kiss you again?” He asks, his breath so soft against her cheek.  

She can feel the books against her back and it reminds her of romance novels. Cassian and her in between stacks, sneaking in dark corners for clandestine meetings. Anyone could see them. Her boss could see her. The tutoring monitors could crawl up to the fourth floor and shout, this is what we pay you for? But no one is here. It’s only Cassian, and his hulking frame. That red sweatshirt spilling across his chest.  

Nesta glares, crossing her arms. She hums, and she’ll say it’s to make him wait, but it sounds much too wanton--a deep groan in the back of her throat.  

“That’s not a yes,” he muses.  

“This is coercive,” she says, kicking her foot. “We’re in a library,” she seethes.  

But he smells so good, and he hovers over her just right. The perfect height to be pinned against bookshelves. It almost seems sacrilegious. Would that damage the books, she thinks. What if they push against it so hard, each shelf falls over like dominoes? There would be no hiding what they’ve done, then.  

Cassian smirks as she thinks, that dimple in the corner of his mouth shining on his face and she wants to place her thumb there... She wants his lips on hers. His body on hers. His hands skimming across her skin like he’s tracing words on a page.  

If she touches him first, he can touch her. If she only says yes, then she can taste him again. She looks to that floral scrunchie. She’d be able to pull on it, pull at his hair and hear his groans and finally find out what they sound like outside of her conspiring imagination. The ones hidden so deep, she thinks no one will ever find them.  

Nesta looks to his eyes, but they’re much too bright. She can see herself in them, all flushed. Interestingly enough, she doesn’t look frightened. She looks ready... wanting... waiting... eager. 

Nesta can’t help biting at her lips. “Books make me weak,” she mutters to herself. A fatal flaw. 

“Oh I know,” Cassian says, smiling. “But I'm not going to kiss you unless you expressly tell me yes. I’m not going to kiss you, unless you want this, Nesta.” 

So, Nesta pushes at his shoulders. 

It only takes a tap before Cassian is pulling away as if nothing happens at all, here between bookshelves. Is that disappointment in his gaze or does he just assume she will say no? He doesn’t appear perturbed. If anything, it seems expected. Or perhaps he’s a gentlemen and he does mean what he says. 

“Back to Gauss’s law it is,” he says, softly. 

But Nesta is strangely disappointed by that.

She can imagine following him back to the table where they’re tucked away in a space that is reserved for those who want to talk and study. Not the quiet area where she usually studies by herself. They go back to the table now and they’d pass blow up mattresses and every once in a while a student in a dinosaur costume would roam the hall as someone else films them from behind. Just like every true finals week, when students become so tired facts turn into fiction.

Right now though, there’s no one in sight. It’s quiet and strangely calm and… the alien grasps Cassian’s hand because Nesta is tired here between shelves.

Finals week lunacy has sunk in completely, she thinks. She can barely recognize herself at all as she stares at her flushed face in the gleam of his eyes. It’s no wonder she’s contemplating how sane she truly is. 

Cassian swallows, she can see the bob of his adam’s apple, but his gaze is open and warm and he’s wearing her favorite sweatshirt she could just wrap herself in. If only he wrapped his arms around her. 

So Nesta does the only sane thing, she can grasp, all thoughts of Gauss gone and instead, Nesta begins writing romances on his lips.

~~~~

Stu(died) Tagged List:

@arinbelle @my-fan-side @sophilightwood @nestaarcher0n @duskandstarlight @soitsgorgeous @swankii-art-teacher @lordof-bloodshed @thewhelk @daisy-in-danger @highqueenevankhell @lovelynesta @sirendeepity @champanheandluxxury @ladynestaarcheron @moodymelanist @teagoddess99 @spoilersteph @angelic-voice-1997 @bo0kmaster69 @drielecarla @generalnesta @cozycomfyliving08 @confusedfandomslut @dread3r @sv0430 @unhealthyfanobsession @simpingfornestaarcheron @talkfantasytome @sayosdreams

~

Do they get together after this? ahahhahahhahauahaahhfa 

no. 

[iamnmbr3]

Hi again :)

Two questions actually:

First why didn't Lucius buy Draco another broom? I know JKR meant for Harry to have the bestest broom ever but I wonder why Draco never got a broom upgrade? His parents can afford it and I dont see why Lucius would deny his son a faster broom. Especially after he became prefect.

Second, why exactly is Harry so obsessed with Draco early on? Its obvious why Draco goes after Harry given he is famous and all. But why the other way around? Before Draco ever really did anything to hurt him, he was putting Draco on the same level as his abusive cousin, which makes no sense, and getting all angry at Draco getting care packages. What's his problem? Why pay this rich kid so much attention??

Hello! :D Once again, thank you for your patience. This was a cool ask so I wanted to do it justice.

1)

On your first point, I think a couple of factors are at play, but basically Lucius was probably feeling a bit fed up at that point and also he quickly had other things on his mind due to Voldemort's return. What do I mean by that? Well, in second year he already seems annoyed with Draco for coming second to Hermione in school and is kind of Done TM with hearing Draco talk about or complain about Harry (to be fair Draco did seemingly spend the whole summer doing this). Then he goes out and gets Draco on the Quidditch team and buys the entire team really good brooms. And Draco STILL loses to Harry (though only just). And presumably still comes second to Hermione in school. I think Lucius might've been less than pleased with this.

Plus, Draco's more of a talker than a doer. Yeah he complains about Hermione but he doesn't actually do anything to her because of his aversion to violence. If Lucius and his Death Eater buddies had got ahold of her at the Quidditch Cup they wouldn't have insulted her. They would have hurt her. And they would have enjoyed it. Draco would not have the stomach for that, and Lucius might already be beginning to suspect that. Not to mention, Lucius actually doesn't approve of Draco's open rivalry with Harry. He feels that it is smarter to at least pretend (at this stage) to like Harry since openly seeming anything other than grateful for Voldemort's fall is unwise politically. Draco of course is incapable of leaving Harry alone since if he can't be in Harry's life as his friend he's determined to be in his life as his Nemesis TM. Lucius probably views this as shortsighted and is likely annoyed by it.

Furthermore, the Firebolt is REALLY expensive. Even Harry, with all his wealth, decides it would be unwise to buy it. I mean, it's not really something you would usually use for a school team. It's what professionals at the Quidditch Cup use. So after buying a whole team's worth of brooms and being a bit displeased with Draco, Lucius may not be in the mood to get him something so fancy. Still, Lucius might have bought it for Draco eventually but let's remember the timing. Harry gets the broom midway through third year. Lucius doesn't feel inclined to rush out that minute and buy Draco a new broom (again).

And then fourth year rolls around. The Triwizard Tournament means there's no Quidditch so there's no point. Plus Lucius is probably distracted by the fact that his Dark Mark is getting clearer every day and oh no what if Voldemort isn't actually dead? What if he comes back? What if he's mad at all the people who didn't stay faithful to him...?

And then Voldemort DOES come back. And Lucius has...so many problems. First he has to tell Voldemort that he kinda sorta might've lost his diary. Whoopsie. And that...does not go well. then he's busy trying to stay alive and un-tortured and trying to regain Voldemort's favor during fifth year. And then he gets caught at the Department of Mysteries and arrested. Probably broom buying is the last thing on his mind.

2)

(First, as an aside, I don't know that Draco's interest in Harry is purely based on his fame. I mean, he tries to befriend and impress Harry in Madam Malkin's before he even knows who he is.) But anyway, both of them seem to be mutually drawn to each other even though their relationship is an acrimonious one almost from the beginning. Yes, Harry almost immediately takes a dislike to Draco. But he's also very aware of him. And that...never stops.

I'm not sure I would say that Harry exactly puts Draco on the same level as Dudley, but he is immediately reminded of Dudley due to Draco's boasting. Draco speaks in a way that makes Harry think he is spoiled and privileged...like Dudley. Draco also declares he'll bully his father into getting him a broom. This is a boast because he's trying to show off to impress Harry.

Lucius and Narcissa are not Vernon and Petunia. They do a lot for Draco but they would never allow him to push them around the way Dudley does his parents. Harry doesn't know this however, and takes Draco at his word which makes him draw a parallel to Dudley in his mind. Draco's bullying and bigoted behavior also further turns Harry against him. He's never afraid of Draco though in the way he is of Dudley, so the dynamic is different.

But yeah. Harry is...really hyper aware of Draco. Not because he's scared of him. But just because he can't seem to look away. They orbit and play off each other right from day one. Harry immediately recognizes Draco when he meets him again on the train (and Draco also remembers Harry right away). He watches Draco's sorting and where he goes to sit. He dreams of Draco his very first night.

I'm not sure Harry even knows why this is. There's just something about Draco that he's drawn to, even when they aren't friends, even when they are bitter rivals. They can never forget each other or look away from each other. Harry isn't like this with other people he dislikes. He's not like this about Zacharias Smith or Crabbe or Goyle or Michael Corner or Cormac McLaggen or even Snape or Voldemort.

There's something different with Draco. Something more. To me, that something is drarry.

[spectrum-core]

STEPHCLAIR IS BAD AND YOU SHOULD FEEL BAD

Alternative title: a very angry (and tired) Full Stop fan's thesis.

ok, so me being the stephan/sinclair comparison's strongest hater is a bit i really like to lean into, but for the sake of keeping things semi-serious i will try to keep the actual essay content as free of me ranting my frustrations as humanly possible (which i mean commitement to the bit aside this will be hard bc it is frustrating to see people calling them both the same character, at best it shows a very surface level understanding of either character and at worst it shows just reducing them to cookie cutter meme fandom archetypes neither character actually fits into, so bear with me if i slip up and make unserious comments from time to time)

so before i start the actual essay let me say this: this essay doesnt even scratch the surface of how much i hate this comparison you guys cant even possibly fucking imagine ive been obssessed and i mean OBSSESSED with the full stop office since 2021 and im glad i wasnt in the limbus prerelease fanbase because if i had to see people comparing my beautiful boy and beloved best friend to a guy we had no info about other than "hes based of the guy from demian" i would have turned into the joker this is not even about saving my own mental health this is about sparing the entire pjm fandom of the monster i would have turned into

spoilers for ruina and limbus, universe terminology heavy and surface level references and interpretations of demian by herman hesse because imma keep it real with you guys the first and only time i read that book i was still in high school and i barely remember shit.

Table of contents:

Stephan - a summary

Sinclair - a summary 2.1. Emil Sinclair in Demian (1919) 2.2. Emil Sinclair in Limbus Company (2023)

Addressing common arguments

1.- Stephan - a summary

And of course I will start with Stephan, because I love him very much, just like Liwei he's one of my favorite pjm characters (yeah i like him more than your favorite popular character don't ask) so it's not surprising that i have A Lot to say about him, right?

And of course, I do.

As I said in the serrated duo post, a core part of my perception of the Full Stop office depends on the fact that they are poor. Mentions of money are common all across many factions in the game, yes, but the Full Stops are extremely constant about money, how taking a wrong turn means losing more than they can afford, how they can't afford to drop their weapons because they were too expensive, how even getting the permissions to be able to buy and wield these weapons was ridiculously expensive and so on. Of course, Stephan is the one talking about this the most (something I will elaborate on later), but Liwei and Tamaki also make a few ocassional mentions to it in their dialogue and keypages and considering this is a shared business it just makes sense that this is something that affects all of them.

These are just some few of the callbacks to money that Stephan alone does in his dialogue, without focusing in keypage text or what Liwei and Tamaki have to say about it.

And idk man, at least to me the difference between social classes is an important aspect for their characterization, specially because of how constant the concern with money is for Stephan. From this point alone comparing them feels like erasing a core aspect of Stephan's characterization, a lot about Stephan (and the Full Stop office as a whole, let's be real here) starts making more sense once you read the office as lower-middle class (and I'm saying lower middle class because they can afford some place to live and their weapons, but to me these guys are the types who precisely because of their need to keep bullets at all times can't pay for water or electricity all the time and sometimes they simply can't afford food or if they do they can spend a week straight eating nothing but unsalted pasta).

Now, going back to Stephan being the most outward about his complaints with money, he is in general the most outward about all problems the office is facing, to the point in which he doesn't mind inconveniencing everyone else with his rants, being one of the few guests who interrupt Angela's introductory speech and getting into Tamaki's nerves (something he's well aware he's doing, as these two know each other) at least two times through the course of their pre-battle cutscene, even Roland comments after the reception on how he wishes he would always have been as open about his problems as Stephan was.

However, it's worth nothing that he doesn't spend the entire cutscene crying about his miseries, and he only starts losing hope at three key moments: when they can't kill Eileen inmediately (making them waste more bullets than needed), when Argalia shows up (forcing them to retreat and making them fail their mission, meaning they won't get paid for this after they already lost a ton of money, as well as turning the situation into something much more dangerous than what they had signed up for) and once they enter the Library (an Urban Plague grade threat they have little to no information about, when him and Tamaki are almost out of bullets so Liwei is essentially the only fixer with some chance of putting up a fight and, you know, making it out alive).

Now, while it's true that Stephan is someone who dislikes danger, he isn't someone who isn't used to seeing gruesome events, his instinctive reaction to seeing a guy getting his head put into a meat grinder was cracking jokes and calling the concept of thought gears "a load of horseshit", which is something that falls in line with him being a somewhat experienced Fixer (sure, grade 5 isn't amazing but we can assume it's still either in the higher side of average or barely above average, and for someone specialized in firearms, which are far from the best weapon in the city, getting that high means he must have some experience and skill, right? more so considering he's been at this for 5 years at most) who has seen a fair share of horrid shit and can be unfazed by (most of) it as long as his own safety isn't on the line.

Another point is... he dislikes danger and is always wary about money and expenses, to the point in which he enjoys checking his bank account (or at least he believes so, if we go for the theory of the artbook profiles being more a mix of what the characters perceive themseves as/would describe themselves as to others, which is a theory i go by, I see him as someone who's convinced he does that for fun instead as out of desperation), but this seems to be more a generalized feeling of impending doom at everything rather than something that can be traced back to a particular traumatic event (anything can be dangerous, anything can cost him money), dude's from the backstreets after all, he's seen shit and he's used to assuming the worst. How I see Stephan, he's a guy who already expects bad things to happen but once things go wrong he starts freaking out about how this time They're Screwed For Real, but he never really tricks himself into believing "maybe things will turn out just fine this time?" or who thinks "well, we've done this before, surely we can handle it again."

This is not very related to Stephan as a character in terms of personality but I think it's still an important point to make as it is particularly related to body mods, his physical condition and his body shape.

So we can easily say that Stephan is a strong dude, at least if compared to real world standards without the fancy and insane body mods we see people in the city have access to. He carries that huge rifle around with his bare hands, something that Tamaki doesn't do and that not even Stephan himself in earlier iterations of his dessign did, and his main talent (which based of my theories is something that can be assumed as "something he's proud enough of to consider it the thing he does best") is physical labor.

Pictured, Tamaki's talksprite, carrying a rifle almost as long as she is tall with a strap supporting the weight on her shoulders, like a normal person.

Also pictured, an earlier iteration of Stephan's dessign, carrying the same rifle his current version does, but also holding it with the help of a similar strap supporting the weight on his shoulders.

And finally, Stephan's current dessign, holding that shit with his bare fucking hands in an exhibition of his brute animal strength, what the fuck is wrong with this man (affectionate)

And Stephan's artbook profile, the important part here is his speciality being physical labor, not only he's strong but he aknowledges this.

However, I made a point about the Full Stop office being poor, right? Even Roland says that "giving a whole office augmentation procedures is cheaper than keeping a decent supply of bullets in stock" (not the exact phrasing).

At least personally, I see this as Roland essentially saying "it would be cheaper (and more efficient) to get body mods for everyone in the office and buy another (cheaper) type of weaponry instead", but as things stand, the Full Stops can afford to either buy more ammunition and maintain their weapons, OR to get body mods, and since their whole deal is firearms... well, they can't really Stop investing in them, meaning they have no body mods At All and they got their grades purely out of their own physical strength.

Similarly, Stephan makes a similar point about how body augmentations are required for people to be able to run while carrying their weapons around (specifically talking about the rifles he and Tamaki use).

And... you know, the whole point is that they couldn't run carrying their weapons because they were too heavy, Argalia mocked them for that, Liwei urged them to drop their weapons, something they refused to do because of the prices.

Lastly on this point, while it's true that Ruina talksprites have a very bad case of Long Anime Legs (to the point in which how Roland's legs take about 2/3 of his height is a common joke), if we focus only on his head and torso, Stephan looks pretty Wide, and not only because he's wearing thick, fluffy and multilayered clothing, as other characters wearing similar clothing styles still look thinner than him.

This is all to say: I don't think this guy is a twink, or thin at all. He's a prime example of the strongman build to me and this is yet another hill I'm willing to die on watch project moon turn him into a beanpole once he inevitably shows up in limbus and me turning into the first real world distortion as a consequence.

Finally, Stephan is very notoriously the most informal member of the office, not only being the only one who doesn't wear any sort of formal clothing fully prioritizing comfort and practicality over looks but also completely disregarding formalities with his attitude at work (again, he interrupts Angela's introductory monologue, and again, his first two lines when being introduced are him cracking jokes), being the only member of the office to swear on screen and using several informal expressions and metaphors through both the reception dialogue and his keypage story.

And for good measure, he's a compilation of Stephan being the creature he is.

The literal introduction of the characters, also known as the moment in which Stephan became one of my favorite characters because he's Just Like Me Fr

Very normal behavior for someone who hates blood and violence and isn't used to seeing it. This man is more than capable (and willing, assuming money is involved) to murder kill.

Which, I mean, this attitude is very different from what we see from Sinclair.

2.- Sinclair, a summary

In retrospect I probably should have made this one first because I'm gonna be honest with you, Sinclair is one of the sinners I care about the least (I still like him and think he's pretty cool mind you I just don't vibe too much with most of the tropes making up the character) so what I have to say about him is less me grasping for straws and subtext because I don't care enough about him to be bothered with a super serious and in depth analysis like I did with Stephan and more things we can explicitly see about him in game and things that happen in the novel Demian.

And if I can have a small parenthesis here, people saying that one of my favorite pjm guys Ever is in any way similar to a guy who despite being pretty cool is just Not the type of character I fully vibe with... really, it gets annoying fast. Anyway back to the serious analysis now.

2.1- Emil Sinclair in Demian (1919)

To be able to understand Sinclair as he is depicted in Limbus Company, it is important to first be familiar with the source material of the original iteration of the character, that's it we're doing your high school homework by compiling several literary analysis of a symbolic psychological early 20th century autobiographical novel i hope you guys signed up for this (and if you didn't, though luck! i will do this anyway, I love literary analysis).

In the novel, young Emil finds himself torn between the worlds of light (which can be equated to the Garden of Eden, but it's more tangible meaning for our protagonist is his childhood home and family, a serene and well structure/organized space where he can be innocent, untainted by the evils of the outside world) and darkness (basically all the scary shit that goes on outside, where people do evil things for the sake of it), he finds himself tempted by the violence of the outside world, particularly through the actions of his classmate Franz Kromer, which eventually leads him to consider that due to being exposed to this tainted world of evil he no longer can return to the world of good and innocence.

Here, the character of Demian acts as a guide, someone who helps Sinclair to trascend this binary perception of good vs evil and to see himself as someone worthy of happiness because him witnessing the world of evil didn't taint him as a person but rather merely showed him another face of the world, Demian here mentions the Mark of Cain as a symbol of mental strenght and freedom, considering that bearers of this mark are capable of making their own choices and should be able to go beyond their assigned roles, being able to embody aspects of both worlds. This is to say that Demian's view is less focused on good vs evil, instead taking a more order vs chaos approach (without giving an explicit moral character to either).

In the book, the symbol of a bird breaking out of the egg is frequently used to represent Emil's personal growth, the egg represents safety and innocence, but a bird must eventually leave the egg or it will die, and getting out of the egg is a process than can be seen as violent, as a bird must fight to get out of the egg, and getting out of the egg represents birth but also an irreversible change, it can be seen as breaking out of the world of light and getting permanently in the world of darkness since a broken shell can't be fixed, but it can also mean achieving the enlightment and personal balance to not feel permanently bound to a condition, place or state of being and therefore growing as a person by learning to see himself as a whole human instead of supressing his "evil side" by only forcing the "good side" to surface.

Max Demian is here to show this second meaning of growth/self improvement (while also explaining that Sinclair is permamently growing and must always keep this balance between all the parts conforming the whole being that is himself rather that trying to make parts of himself antagonize each other). This idea of personal growth being one of the core themes of the book.

2.2- Emil Sinclair in Limbus Company (2023)

With Sinclair's source media analyzed (at a very surface level, mind you), we now can start talking about the depiction of Sinclair in Limbus Company, how it parallels the book, why the book symbolism is important for this instance of Sinclair and so on.

When we are first introduced to Sinclair in the game he's clearly nervous, he doesn't know what he's supposed to do as he hasn't worked for a similar company before and he isn't used to the gruesome sight of the bus eating people, this does fit inmediately in the motif of a naive person with limited experience about the world (well, to be fair to him most people won't be seeing man-eating buses at a regular basis, but the average backstreets dweller would be familiar with equally violent situations).

With this said, despite Sinclair's obviously nervous behavior... he isn't really a pessimist like Stephan was, in fact, almost every chapter (counting cantos, intervallos and the short mini chapters such as the Dante's notes update episode) have at least one key moment with him trying to rationalize horrible stuff as something much less violent, or simply going "but I thought this thing didn't work like this..." when confronted with the more horrible realities in the city. He thought the G corp veterans were really going to let them pass without a fight, he thought the people being controlled by headhens were just actors wearing mascot costumes, he thought mermaids were the beautiful half-woman half-fish creatures he heard about in fairy tales, and there's more examples but I don't really feel like looking for The Entire Fucking Plot Because This Guy Is An Actual Protagonist Instead Of A Background Guy Like Stephan Was to make my point clearer than it already is. And it's only when he realizes that the real world doesn't fit his expectations that he panics.

Well, there is one exception to this pattern: his own canto. Here, he panics inmediately as soon as K corp's nest is mentioned and spends the first half of the chapter pleading to turn back while saying that they are going to get killed. So what is different here with the rest of the plot?

Obviously, the fact that is related to his very own very personal very specific trauma. That is to say, unlike Stephan who is wary of anything that can put him on danger or cost him more money than it should, Sinclair has a very specific traumatic event that makes him act Like That (sure, he gets scared and nervous outside that, but these are more normal "I'm unfamiliar with this and I don't fully know how to react, this is normal behavior in a human being" reactions than outright "I am Actually Terrified due to being reminded of an actual traumatic event, this reaction is a textbook definition of post-traumatic stress disorder").

HOWEVER, Sinclair being someone who's deeply traumatized and kind of a scaredy cat when it comes to violence and unfamiliar situations... it doesn't mean that he's incompetent or a bad fighter. Almost all of his identities are terrifyingly good fighters (at least in their lore), Los Mariachis fear jefe Sinclair, Cinq director Sinclair is someone most association members are terrified to duel even during training, Blade Lineage Sinclair is considered a talented killer (it's also worth noting that save maybe for the mariachi one, in none of these mirror worlds Sinclair is precisely happy of being recognized as "the guy who's very scary when he fights people", unlike Stephan who I don't think he particularly likes killing but has a more "as long as I get paid..." mentality about it), the only "not very good at this" Sinclair id I can think of is the molar boatworks id where he's more a mechanic than a fighter so he fears he's lagging behind in that aspect. Hell, even the Canon Timeline so to speak (which is to say: his base identity) has him carrying that huge halberd, going on a frenzy attacking some already mutilated inquisitor's corpse, piercing through Guido's armor and dealing a fatal blow that finally killed him for real. To compare, Stephan is good at physical work, but we don't know about his close combat capacities other than the fact that he dislikes it, for Sinclair however we know he's terrifyingly good at physical combat.

Now, I've seen a lot of people call Sinclair a twink and while it's one of these words that nobody agrees on what it means, let's give it the benefit of doubt and say "alright, for the duration of this analysis let's settle on a twink being a young looking (regardless of actual age), thin man with almost no facial/body hair".

Since Sinclair is a rich guy (not just Any Rich Guy though, we're talking of someone whose family had ties to a Wing, probably not some elite guy like Daniel or Hong Lu, but not a self perceived "mediocre" nest dweller like Samjo either), and pressumably not very experienced in combat in most mirror worlds (we know he has no prior experience in the base one where he joined Limbus, at least), let's say that he has enough body mods for him to be much stronger than he looks like despite being thin, he does look thin and young and much to my dissapointment he also has no facial hair, so yeah, under this very broad definition of the term he is a twink.

However if you start adding personality archetypes to the definition he stops being one almost inmediately, as we've been shown time after time that his "submissive" attitude is mostly a result of him not knowing too well how to impose himself and just going along with what the rest say or do, but he's starting to grow tired of that ever since Hell's Chicken (even if he clearly still isn't great at that), as it should be more than obvious for anyone who even just googled "demian herman hesse literary analysis", Sinclair is undergoing a lot of changes even now, and the game is doing a good job at portraying that.

Honestly I also think he'd be hotter with a sleeper build but really, I don't care enough about him to argue about that.

And for the last point, precisely due to his upbringing as a rich guy AND his traumatic experience with Kromer, Sinclair is not only a very polite and mild mannered guy (again, unlike resident creature Stephan), but also he tries to take as little space as possible, both literally and metaphorically, as Dante notices near the end of canto 3 when they finally comment on how Sinclair never talks about his own problems until it's too late because he doesn't want to bother the others as they probably have it worse (again, unlike Stephan "i don't mind loweing team morale and making everyone in the room uncomfortable as long as i get to vent" Full Stop office).

3.- Adressing common arguments

Alright, now that I talked about each character, let's see some of the most common arguments I've seen people use to compare them.

"They look the same!" No, they don't. The only thing they have in common is being blonde but even their hairstyles are different with Sinclair having a simple bowl-ish cut with slightly wavy hair and Stephan having curlier hair (not to mention the whole point I made about body types because I'm the sort of lunatic who cares about that stuff). I won't even bother with this argument.

"They have the same personalities!" Again, they don't. Stephan is very cynical with a lot of his attitude being clearly derivated from him coming from a poor background and having stayed there his whole life, he also doesn't care about his cynism getting in the way and bothering everyone else. On the other hand, Sinclair is someone who could almost be described as naive due to having lived a sheltered childhood and only having his experiences with Kromer and his time at Limbus as moments of realizing that the rest of the world is Not Like His Childhood House, still believing that the world is a binary of good vs evil and expecting things to turn out fine or be much better than they actually are, just to be hit with the reality of the city Not being a nice place where people are nice and polite and not trying to kill him, this is not to say he doesn't have his own issues but even Dante notices during his Canto that Sinclair makes a point to avoid bothering everyone else with his personal problems, keeping them to himself even if that makes things worse on the long run.

"Both are opposed and harmed by a lunatic!" This is an argument I've seen a lot and is incredibly filmsy at best, half of the city's population are lunatics and the other half are people who got opposed by them some way or another. Will you say that Ishmael and the rest of the Pequod crew can be compared to the Full Stop office (or really, even mention the other Full Stop fixers instead of just focusing on Stephan because he happens to be blonde and can be compared to Sinclair) because of their situations with Ahab? Or the W Corp crew who got their train targetted by Jae-heon and Elena (or, you know, the train passengers who were turned into Love townspeople or puppets)? What about the Vermillion Cross who got killed by the Reverb Ensemble? Or the Cane office fixers? or the Zwei association section 6 who got beaten to death by Gyeong-mi just because he felt like doing so? Or the Liu association section 1 who had to deal with Argalia taking Philip away? Or the Kurokumo clan members when they were attacked by Tanya? You aren't comparing them to either Stephan or Sinclair, right? Not to mention that in her weird and fucked up perception of things, Kromer was less opposed to Sinclair as she was trying to lead him to join her and her cause, even the last things she says before getting killed are her calling him to follow her.

"Both are compared to birds!" Oh, right, because I forgot that a very directed symbolic comparison to a baby bird breaking out of it's shell as a symbol of rebirth, learning about the nuances of the world and self improvement/liberation that is consistently used in the source material Sinclair comes from is exactly the same as one (1) throwaway line the big bad guy uses to mock not only Stephan but the whole Full Stop gang, right. And if you want to say "but Tamaki compares him to a bird once too", yeah she calls him a parrot because he keeps repeating the same complaints over and over, it's still not the same as a consistent metaphor.

"Both are sad blonde twinks! They're essentially the same guy." Sad? Yeah, everyone in the city is sad but their ways to be sad are polar opposites, and neither of them is the pure cinnamon roll uwu crybaby archetype people tend to lump both into, Stephan was merely having a bad day and people decided to make that his whole personality (when honestly we get more insight on his actual personality before Argalia shows up, when he's making sarcastic remarks and getting impatient because they weren't starting killing people fast enough) but he's still perfectly capable (and willing) to murder people, and Sinclair is just... someone who lacks experience about the real world and how it works and has a tendency to get nervous because of this, but he can adapt quickly to situations once he understands them. Blonde? Yeah, but I guess if that's a point to draw a comparison then we should also compare them to Don Quixote, the Tiphereths, Lenny, Yun, Lulu, Olga, every single npc, librarian, and agent who comes with blonde hair from the generator... Twinks? Stephan absolutely isn't one, Sinclair depends on how you define twink as nobody seems to get to an agreement with that, if you define it as merely "young looking thin man with almost no visible body hair" then yeah he is one, but if you go for any more specific definition than that he stops fitting into the definition almost instantly.

In conclusion: if I see anyone else comparing them I'll start blocking people liberally bc I'm sick of seeing that shit (I do that already tbh but just so you know), now scram

[phantomthiefgaige]

What if Chihiro Fushimi Joined SEES (Part 2)

Had to rewatch the P3 ending to amp myself up to do this. Don’t mind the tears…or the river of em flowing through the post. That’s normal. Anyway. This part will be covering some misc stuff like School life, minor changes, and right up to the June full moon operation. With that being said. Lets get into it.

TW//Bullying

“SOTERIA!!!”

Soteria is Chihiro Fushimis persona. The goddess of safety and salvation, deliverance, and preservation from harm…funny that she will exactly USE harm to protect others from it.

While Soteria does learn spells like Tetrakarn and Makarakarn and some defensive increasing skills. That’s not all her Persona can do.

This persona is well known for its high magic stat, but more importantly…she’s the teams nuke button.

Her most upgraded move besides the Agi skill line is the Megi skill line. For those who don’t remember. Megi moves are pure almighty damage, a damage type that can’t be blocked.

Why did I decide to give the terrified nervous wreck a nuke? Cause I thought it would be funny. Don’t worry, it drains her magic fast so you can’t go spamming it. You’re gonna have to actually use her fire skills until much later on when she gets an sp cost reduction skill.

Soteria is best described appearance wise as a graceful looking woman with angelic wings yet in her hands are a giant shield and a crackling hand mixed with agi and megi effects. She’d have some unique patterns on her arms and would have her eyes covered by a flower crown.

Now enough about Chihiros Persona, lets see how this girl is with the rest of the teammates and what she does outside of battle.

Of course she’s still the student council treasurer so she’s in there with Mitsuru from time to time but really, it’s more of a “friendly business partners” relationship rather than a true genuine sisterly friendship for right now.

Now on the other end of things are her dorm-mates. Yukari is often really close with Chihiro. She talks to her quite often about her mangas and how club meetings go while Yukari just listens or at least tries to act engaged at the very least.

Yukari can be a bit protective of her but not often. Just helping at times when she gets too nervous around Akihiko. Other times though, despite Chihiros protests, she throws the girl to the wolves with one particular man to help her overcome her fears. That one man is…

Junpei….is…an interesting case with Chihiro. They both like manga and nerdy things at times so besides the male fear thing, you’d think they’d be the best of friends. Well, kinda. She’s too nervous right now to fully hang out with him and watches from a corner usually. Often wondering how he has so much time to slack on his studies when she’s seen his exam scores. She’d reprimand him if she had the courage to…

Yukari is definitely gonna help this girl slightly tolerate this man if it kills her.

Or at least have her join the “Stupei, Ace Defective” roasting club.

Both options work too.

Chihiro doesn’t have much to talk about with Akihiko. If Junpei was a bit much for her at this level, then a guy who talks about getting stronger and fighting with, to her, not much in common is gonna put her off a bit more…but then again, she seems fine with Hidetoshi so who knows? Maybe they’ll be better friends in the near future.

Insert Makoto Yukis/Door Doors social link here.

What? You thought I was gonna write something for Makoto now? It’s basically going the same as her SL. They’re friends and she likes being around him.

…

…

…

Okay fine, maybe I’m planning something but you’ll have to wait until later in the story. For now. They’re friends. Like…rank 4 at best.

In the overworld, Chihiro can often be seen staring at Bookworms, thinking of going in. Heck maybe even considering asking for a part time job, this girl surrounded by books would think it’s a dream job.

She can also be spotted around the mall, checking out the CD shops or wondering if maybe someday Makoto will take her into Club Escapade…but she’s gotta get her own courage in check so we’ll check in on this subplot later.

At night, there is a rare chance that you won’t be able to use the computer there because Chihiro’s on it.

She’s either gonna be studying or looking at this weird new webcomic. It’s apparently about a boy and his three friends playing a video game? You aren’t sure yet because all you see is a boy kissing his poster goodbye while his friend plays the violin. It’s weird but hey, nobody said she can’t have weird interests.

Now that the current dorm life is out of the way, lets get into the story this time.

A reason Yukari may be a bit protectivr if Chihiro is because she’s been hearing about this currently being bullied by three girls.

It’s really starting to piss her off actually. But she bites her tongue for right now.

Most of May and such plays out as normal but instead of the ghost hunting team being just you, Yukari and Junpei, this girl gets in on it too…she wishes she wasn’t because she didn’t know wether to be afraid of ghosts or Junpei in the dark, or confused by how laughable his missing girl story was.

Nevertheless she joins their investigation with some reluctance…mainly Yukari saying it’ll help her.

For once though when they decide to go to the sketchy alleys of Port Island Station at night, she’s siding with Junpei in possibly wanting to back out.

Dear lord the girl was not only not made for scared, but for seeing Junpei get headbutted by a terrifying guy while being harassed by others.

And then there’s Shinji…

Poor girl just about fainted when she saw him. He’s downright terrifying. He seems nice but the poor gi-oh…she passed out. Poor thing.

When she gets back to the dorm she’s out for the whole night, cuddling with a pillow from fear…yeah Yukari may need to apologize later to her for doing that.

Weirdly enough though, the fact she felt like she “survived” something like that feels a bit relieving in her. Like she CAN do scary stuff and will be braver…eventually. For now though. Fuukas case takes high priority.

Hearing this Fuuka girl was getting bullied by Natsuki was bad enough, learning she could be dead is slightly pissing her off…then she learns Mr. Ekoda hid this information from everyone…someone hold this girl back she’s gonna take her paper fan and jam it down his throat.

Thankfully she heard Mitsuru got to him but she’s still pissed. Who knew this sweetheart could have a tipping point that deep.

It doesn’t make her fear into a hatred thankfully, I mean…seeing Junpei get knocked down at the station made her feel scared sure but like she wanted to help and just felt powerless…maybe that’s why when he heard this girl was being bullied and her missing status was hidden was what caused her to lose her cool for a little.

Come the time to save them, she begs Makoto to please go with him to save Fuuka. She feels like she needs to meet this girl.

He doesn’t care

But she’s in the party with Aki and Junpei.

In retrospect, not a good idea for her but she’s holding back her fear to save this woman.

Authors realization: OH SHIT, I FORGOT HOW SHE FEELS ABOUT NATSUKI!!!!

So with Natsuki she feels, understandably, upset that she would bully this girl and locked her up. Though she does promise she’ll help find Fuuka.

Now back in Tartar Sauce, she’s slightly relieved yet worried to be split from the all guys party. When she finds Makoto though, she’s much calmer. When they find Fuuka though…dear lord this girl is so glad she’s alive.

Then she sees Mitsuru and Yukari are down for the count and hey, she can actually do damage to them…it’s weak damage though. If only there were some persona user who could read enemies weaknesses an- oh Fuuka did it.

The rest of the story here mainly plays out as normal.

Now with Fuuka on the team, how are she and Chihiro gonna get along?

Dear lordy, these two are like sisters. Scared, timid, shy, other similar words can best describe them to a T.

Fuuka looks up to Chihiro as her Senpai while Chihiro looks up to her as someone much smarter than her.

These two have a lot of study sessions together and it’s sort of the opposite of Yukari so far.

Instead of having Chihiro try and work past things asap, she’s more into having her take her time and do things at her own speed.

They even suggest starting a manga/book club too.

Fuuka isn’t fully into Mangas? Well by golly Fuuka will try for her new friends sake

And this is where we end for this part. Sorry it’s a bit sloppy and has so much run offs, it’s unorganized and all over the place. Okay a lot more work is needed but there was a lot to go over and I set my ambitions a bit high. I’ll try and organize things a bit better next time and make things more coherent.

Special thanks to my co-author @maze-of-my-design for the relationships list for this gal and helping with ideas for this series.

Hope you enjoyed reading it y’all.

[zoomzooml]

Rewatched Bumblebee movie so Alert: random thoughts of sleep deprived person go--

Bumblebee has hella powerful legs. Not only when he uses them in fight, but also when he jumps.

I just love how Bumblebee uses his legs in combat, like hell yeah dude! They may catchin' those hands but they ain't catchin' those legs (they actually did couple of times but shhhh).

Fight sequences are muah. Love them, the best ones in Transformers movies I think. I'm not sure but I also think they were storyboarded/planned by animator so if it's truth it does explain things lol.

Bumblebee is smaller and weaker than the Decepticons he has come to fight, and he doesn't just use their weight or size against them, but all the time seems to be looking for an advantage in his surroundings. This is likely not very unique to him, but it clearly stands out when his opponents the moment they realized their advantage wanted to simply overpower Bee.

Also love how everyone is trying to use their alt-mode during combat.

They could have done more with the fact that G1 Bumblebee was said to like swimming, and Charlie was swimmer in the past (specifically was in school's dive team if I remember correctly). Like some kind of bonding scene? Whatever, it was just such an opportunity. (And I know we had this seconds-post-end-battle scene but it is not what I'm talking about at all if it makes sense???)

Shatter often folds her hands behind her back in a gesture that I personally associate with a business woman (also in base scene she and military man both hold hands that way when talking so yeah). I feel that this reinforces her image as the leader/representative of the duo when Dropkick maintains a looser posture. Just cool body language.

I didn't pay attention to this in the movie, but I was reminded of how someone noticed the Autobot symbol on Shockwave's arm. If that's true, they could make it cool to pull it up under Senator Shockwave's MTMTE-style backstory, or maybe some variation of the spy (before he was known as a Decepticon, especially a high-level one) in TFA style. As far as I know the entire thing was because of recycling model parts but still.

I don't like Bumblebee's camaro root-mode. Idk, he was all round and huggable almost the entire movie, even when he had jeep as alt-mode, and then he is all blocky :((. Maybe it's because even as jeep he still has his chest mostly flat and as camaro it moves so much forward. His Cybertronian root-mode also has chest moved forward a bit but it's a lot more aerodynamic (you know what I mean) so he still looks round. Like, he is huggable all the time and then his camaro-boob looks like it would cut you. Idk how to say it, hope you get what I'm trying to communicate anyway :')

I really like how Decepticons were casually showing off that they are Triplechangers. I understand why they were doing this from storytelling point of view but it's still funny from in-universe one. ("Look how cool and badass we are.") I'm probably turning it up but oh well.

Also this will be a bit off but I never liked the idea of hammer as Bumblebee's weapon. Like his thing almost always was being small, kinda fast and not very strong and boom. They give him one of the weapons that is most effective welded by someone big, strong who doesn't loose much fighting weapon that kinda slows them down a bit (I think hammer does but you can correct me lol) because damn, this thing is big, at least in his serwos.

Plus, still on the hammer's topic, actual war hammers had this spike on the one end of the head so you could actually pierce armor of your opponent or just your opponent but not this one. This one is just for smashing like your mom's meat mallet. Ok, I'm done with this saltyness lol

But really, hammer as weapon doesn't fit Bee at all. Or it's just me.

[joysmercer]

What if Willow and Mara became sinners?

ok unless im forgetting something major, the only way to "revive" the sinners would be to bring ammut into the world and then get rid of her with the staff just as they did in canon, right? otherwise their souls would just be stuck in a sarcophagus forever? so, the end result would be the same – the only difference would be how they get there and how smoothly the plan goes. (which, in canon, it happens very randomly, so you can only go up from there!) ok based on the notes, it's likely instructions were left with the phonograph, but in this case let's just assume one of them smashes it instead of patricia, leaving us in the exact same place as before. maybe they don't do it in the middle of the night (mara needs her 8h and willow doesn't seem like the kind to be convinced to wake up randomly for anything), though.

anyway, if willow and mara became sinners, it would probably have happened right when they discovered jerome's cheating – before patricia got taken. and given that willow's personality change specifically would be very obvious, i think the others would be clued-in by the dodgeball game – even without knowing exactly what was happening, they would be on the look out for Team Evil being Evil.

which means, once they read that book and learn what's happening, patricia would immediately figure out that denby's trying to manipulate her, and she wouldn't believe the messages when denby gives them to her.

so, all this to say that patricia would probably stay safe. which puts sibuna at an excellent position going forward! not only would she ensure none of the boys do stupid things to get themselves taken, but she's also still (somehwat) besties with joy. and remember, joy's probably freaking out about mara/willow acting weird too, and given that sibuna themselves are sneaking out of bed etc (hello, eclipse fiasco was like 2 days before this!), she'd probably ask to be clued-in.

(side note: yeah she doesn't want to be involved, but, like, when lives are on the line, i think she'd insist on it anyway. tor be damned.)

anyway. with joy there (and, probably, jerome in tow, given he'll also demand to know what's going on once he realizes it's not all an elaborate prank and his exes genuinely seem to be lacking consciences), there's no way in hell anyone from anubis is walking around without a buddy to keep them out of harms way (and diffuse any high-emotional situation before it becomes Team Evil fodder). so the remaining sinners would be victor, sweet, and some random kid from another house as it should have been anyway.

tldr; joy and jerome would provide some much needed level-headedness (or, at least, comparative level-headedness) to prevent any loss of Sibuna members.

so then the next order of business would be to stop team evil!! which, fabian would probably come to the same conclusion that I did – they would have to let them "win" in order to get the souls out of the sarcophagus.

but I feel like their ancestors would also be a bit quicker and point them towards the nursery rhymes straight away somehow so they get the staff assembled well in advance, get the intel from harriet so they know to keep the keys with eddie and kt when things happen, and basically while the others do become Sinners for half a minute w the rest of the school, they're certainly not guarding the gatehouse/etc so it's a lot smoother now than it was in the show. and no one's getting abandoned in chimneys or believing gross old men for literally no reason or sneaking keys into people's pockets without permission.

as for willow/mara sinner shenanigans i have no idea lskdfj i feel like mara would constantly try to set up elaborate traps (like legit physical traps) and rfs would just be sitting there facepalming. meanwhile willow would be utterly useless given how opposite her natural self is to any sinnerhood tendancies. like i think her brain would just be at war with herself the whole time. we know she's a descendant-ish and probably(?) has some kind of prophetic eye, and idk how Sinnerhood affects that but poor girl was probably being driven mad :(( luckily she wont remember any of it, though.

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

A LOT of Headcanons about Piranesi coming back into the real world:

For once an adaptationless book I'm Unhealthy about actually has a decent sized following and I can talk about it without screaming into the void of obscurity, so I'm gonna take mad advantage of that and spew out all the Thoughts I had into one post. Yay!

One of the first things he learns to do is cook properly (re: stuff that isn't seaweed and fish) and throws himself into it 100%

Was never much of a cook before but since he was kind of forced to learn in order to survive he's eager to branch out

Remembers his mother making Ghanaian food for he and his sisters when they were kids so he tries to learn some of those dishes

And the first time he makes one for his mom she cries

Actually it's hard for her to look at him at all without crying

He sort of understands why on an intellectual level, but still feels so disconnected from everything that it confuses and alarms him

His dad isn't quite sure what to do with him

Tries to bond in a dad kind of way and he latches on pretty quick to any kind of intellectual discussion but always feels like he makes his dad a little sad

In general he wants to connect with his family but can't help noticing the sad/concerned/disturbed energy they feel when they're around him

And again he understands why, but just can't bring himself to feel the same. They're new people! A whole family he forgot he had! Isn't that exciting and good and why do they look at him funny???

On the other hand, when he first sees them again. He does in fact cry, quite a bit, and tries to reason with himself that it's Matthew crying and not him, but then again maybe it is him because he simply doesn't know what else to do

There's just a lot of tears from all five of them in the first little while

His older sister is soooo protective over him. That's her little baby brother and now he's back after she'd been certain he was dead and she really takes him under her wing

(It's probably her who shows him how to make her favourite recipes)

Younger sister was fresh out of high school when he first disappeared and feels like he's missed out on a good chunk of her life so she throws herself into trying to fill in the gaps for him

Overall I think she'd handle everything the best, it's still confusing and hard but she manages to keep up her spirits by showing him all the cool stuff he's forgotten about in the world, they go on a lot of little adventures together

He struggles with not being able to talk about The House though. He knows it's important that he keep up the pretense that he'd been kidnapped and has amnesia etc. etc., but he wants to tell his family about The House. He wants them to see what he saw and loved for so long even if it turned out to be terrible, and it's so hard

Tries out a few different names. His family just calls him Matthew and he's okay with that, he's not really sure what else to call himself for now but would kind of like something different

Raphael is the highest recipient of this. Almost every time he sees her he's got a new name that he shyly asks if she can call him just to see how it sounds

She is very patient with this, but also sometimes forgets which name he's decided on for the week

Generally he latches onto her very hard and politely but firmly insists they stay friends

Obviously she's quite a busy person, but she makes time to see him and check on how he's doing whenever she can

They also go on adventures (as he calls them)

She takes him to the coasts, and he spends hours wandering the most desolate seeming beaches, taking detailed notes on how they differ from each other, and trying to feed the birds

Is delighted when a seagull steals his sandwich one day

Is very very open about how much he loves Raphael, and the first time he says that to her she's surprised and alarmed to say the least

for completely arbitrary reasons I hc her as being a) a lesbian and b)very much not looking for a relationship. So at first this worries her.

...But it soon becomes clear that he loves a lot of things and people. He loves his family and the birds and the buildings and the crossing guard and the buses and the trees -- and on top of that the thought of romance specifically isn't something he ever fully considers or understand

An ace king, basically

Anyway, they're besties

Dreams about The House frequently, and often so vividly he wakes up thinking he's still there

He wouldn't call them nightmares, but they aren't always nice either

Tries to draw it from memory but can never quite capture it right

Loves birdwatching

And collecting shells

His sister convinces him to get his ears pierced after a while - initially he's skeptical but then remembers this means he has all the more options for decorating himself with odd things he finds and that makes him happy

In general his clothing style gets a little more mainstream over time, but never goes back to what you'd call exactly normal

Knits

Gives people little things he makes or finds, even just strangers he sees frequently or look like they need a friend

Related: is still a bit shy around large groups, but will talk to anyone who looks lonely or lost, even if he has no idea who they are

Anyway I'm having major feelings about this book and am so obsessed with the main character's entire vibe, screaming crying and throwing up etc. etc. so here's my love letter to the implications of the book's ending hope you like it

[gigglemugger]

Mandy Goes to Med School.

Fandom: “Saw” Franchise

Pairing: None.

Synopsis:

Amanda Young had no idea she'd have to become a surrogate cancer doctor, but then again she had no idea she'd start killing people for a living either.

Basically a character study of Amanda, my own take on her, through snippets of scenes from the movies all the way to Saw III.

Word Count: 4,127 (used to be less but I added a few things after a reading pass, lol, nothing major).

CW: All canon typical violence PLUS the horrors of being Amanda Young. So it's a bit heavy on the depression, self-harm, even a little bit of OCD.

AO3 link.

Notes: So not to sound totally pretentious but remember when Joan Didion said that she wrote Play It As it Lays to be a complete blank space of a novel? This fanfic is sort of like that. It's a bunch of snippets like the synopsis says and what Amanda might have been thinking during them. Title is from the Dresden Dolls song where they perform back alley abortions and while Amanda and Lawrence don't go around doing that in this fic, man did I think about writing that too. The timeline was borrowed from the wiki but boy is the Saw timeline complicated. Also things are not completely faithful. I hope you have a good time anyway!

When Amanda decided to join Jigsaw in his ‘business affairs,’ she didn't know that she would double as a medical orderly, but in retrospect she should have known better by the looks of everything.

She was presently standing in the middle of hers and John's shared working space, looking at him as he put one piece after another together in their newest contraption. He wanted to make a chair that twisted the limbs of the person sitting on it. It was still a long way away, this being more of a prototype at this point, and he was working meticulously at it, but all Amanda could see was how washed out he seemed. 

John didn't seem that sick when he met her at her apartment, all those months ago, but now, it was too plain to see that things weren't so hot. He'd cough more often. He'd also walk slower. Sometimes, he'd need longer time to breathe from one project to another. 

When they were preparing the bathroom game, dragging bodies, making sure everything was right and John told her he wanted to be in the center, she remembered being worried about him simply because he was, well, older. Nowadays though, she thought that if he did lay down in another bathroom for hours, he'd probably never get up. 

So, the decision to talk to Lawrence came from her. 

“I see,” John said, briefly looking up from his work, but focusing back on it again soon enough. 

Amanda went from one foot to the other.

“Maybe it could help.”

“I'm dying, Amanda,” he said, slowly. “Nothing can help.”

“I know. But you don't have to suffer just because of that.”

In the background, in the many televisions John and Amanda had in their space, people screamed while having their limbs torn out. 

...

John decided to let her talk to Lawrence, so he knew she was coming. She sat there on a chair at Saint Eustace Hospital, and could see the nurses passing her by, making sure other patients were okay. It reminded her a lot of the Homeward Bound clinic Jill used to run and her arm started to itch.

“Amanda?” A nurse asked. She looked up at a kinder face than hers. “The doctor is free for you now.”

“Thanks,” she said, getting up. No one knew she was Jigsaw, or at least an apprentice Jigsaw, but that didn't make it easier. As she walked, it was as if they knew. She wasn't, obviously, ashamed of it, or at least not as much as her rational brain told her she should be. That being said, the brain is weird, she would know.

Besides, if all the apprentice Jigsaws in this hospital were discovered, Lawrence would probably be in way deeper shit than a former drug addicted felon would be. That brought her some level of comfort.

“Amanda,” Lawrence greeted from his desk when she showed up. He pointed at the chair. “Close the door, will you?”

“Yeah,” she said, doing just that, before making way towards him. She didn't wanna sit down, not yet. “I'm assuming John told you why I'm here.”

“You want to make sure he's OK.” It was a statement. She nodded. “You understand that people go to medical school for years before they can do this stuff right?”

“You're saying I'm not capable of it?” Obviously not. Why are you challenging him? He's a doctor. He would know. Maybe this is stupid.

“No,” Lawrence said, cutting her thoughts. “I'm simply saying that I can't exactly teach you how to operate on someone. Not on the spaces we have,” and she knew he meant “we” as a team here, not “we” as the hospital he worked at “Not with the resources we have. The most I can do is give you books, talk you through treatments John was already going through that ended up interrupted because of his… Well. New status.”

“Yeah. I'd like that.” Lawrence never stopped looking at her. She thought she knew why.

“Alright. I'll see what I can do. I'll gather some resources, I'll… Steal some medicine.” She looked at him up and down, in that expensive suit, the expensive office, the job. The only thing out of the ordinary was the divorce, but then again how really out of the ordinary was it for a man of his age to be divorced from his first wife? Almost perfect or too perfect. And he's was gonna steal meds for her.

Apprentices come in all shapes and sizes.

“Thanks, Lawrence,” she said, and turned around. 

“Wait…” Slowly, Amanda did an about face. She knew her hair was getting longer, but her clothes were still, alternative enough. So she could guess at what he was thinking, or remembering.

“It's ok, you know. I suppose it's not easy to look at the person who kidnapped you and put you in a bathroom for hours. But if this is about him, he didn't suffer. Not really.” You know, apart from the three days of complete starvation.

Lawrence looked relieved. Amanda always thought she probably reminded him of Adam. Well… Who knows what he really thought of her or of Adam. Neither she, nor John actually knew what went through Lawrence's head about that. He hadn't even recovered completely when she went back down to the bathroom to kill him, considering Lawrence had been battling general infection and dehydration at the time. However, the first thing he asked about was him, and when John told him he was dead, he never asked again. Whenever they saw each other, she felt like he wanted to, though. They barely talked, so no chance. Not without John hearing. 

Amanda nodded and left the room, with no more words, but still thinking. John wasn't dangerous. Not really. Still, it was better if he didn't know that Lawrence was still hooked on Adam. Probably. Again, who knew what went through Lawrence's head. Amanda thought he probably caught feelings and snorted through her nose a little bit at a middle aged man's gay awakening being in a kidnapping situation. She'd plead insanity if she hadn't heard him in his sleep before, one time when John let him stay the night. Apparently he had problems with his wife, no new apartment yet, all of that. Amanda had slept with her arms on top of the workbench, her head against the cold metal, all of which helped to keep her sane, so the pain didn't matter. 

He, Mr. Perfect, had slept on the couch, another dent in his façade. 

Lawrence was lucky John wasn't around when he murmured Adam's name. Amanda was, though, half asleep. She wondered if Adam knew that he haunted not one, but two apprentices’ nightmares. That's gotta be worth something. Who knows, maybe he even haunted that little asshole friend of his, Scott whatever, who tried to harass her that one time. John didn't let her make a trap for him, because it would be a waste, but Amanda was increasingly of the opinion that people like Scott are a waste. 

...

Lawrence kept good on his word. He came by the workshop while she was alone. She did point a gun at him, though. It had been a lonely day at that particular workshop. The cop, Hoffmann, was nowhere to be found, and John had to take a break, so Amanda was antsy and stressed by a number of things, John's new treatment one of them. She even forgot she went up to the hospital until she saw him, a ghost with blonde hair and pale skin, almost too perfect to be there in the fifth and rust.

“Shit. Sorry,” she put the gun down, scratching her arm idly, going from one foot to the other, noticing how Lawrence didn't even flinch. She didn't see the usual fear in his eyes, the one she was used to.

“It's ok,” he said, and approached her, cane hitting the floor with each step, handing her a bag full of things: Books, pills, syringes. “How was the game?”

“Eventful,” she said, shrugging. “Joan survived.”

“I'm glad to hear it,” Lawrence said, sounding sincere. She gave him half a smile, before turning around and dumping everything on the metal table with a distinctive loud sound. Both were unimpressed. “Where's John?”

“He's at home.” She stopped herself. How much can I tell this guy? “He's uh… Doing research about a thing, preparing to go to Mexico.”

“Mexico?” Lawrence repeated. “Why?” Amanda shrugged.

“It's a new medical thing. Cause John wants to find other ways to treat his cancer. It's… I just let him do it. It can't hurt. He wants to live, even if these people don't.” Amanda saw that Joan survived, yes. But people like her were an increasing improbability. 

She looked down at everything on the table, the books, the pills and wondered if she was gonna need all of that. If John came back cured from Mexico, or whatever, there might be no need. That would be a relief. She wanted John to live. Still, how much hope could she really put into an experimental treatment?

“We survived,” Lawrence spoke, making her turn her head. “We wanted to live.” Amanda snorted.

“Yeah well, great stuff.” The corpse of Adam might as well have been between them.

“As John's doctor,” Lawrence began, despite the stench of rotting flesh, “I have to say I cannot recommend any alternative treatments…”

“Last time you said that, he put you in a trap,” Amanda said, opening a particularly thick volume. “Maybe it's best if you stay in your lane.” She didn't mean for it to sound like a threat, but increasingly she found that most things she said did. It's better than the desperate, lost tone she had before, she guessed. Lawrence chuckled.

“Yes, maybe.” He then approached the table and Amanda looked up. “Let me teach you how to use some of this stuff anyway. Just in case.”

...

“Just in case” turned out handy, as John's bogus treatment turned out, well, bogus and their trip to Mexico was way worse and much more nerve wracking than Amanda could have anticipated. She was silent looking out the window down to the world below. She wondered how many people in those houses deserved to die. 

“Amanda,” John called, and she turned to look. “Did you speak to Dr. Gordon recently?”

“Right before our trip, yeah,” she answered. John stopped for a second, pondering.

“You were right about asking for help,” he finally said, looking at her. “Thank you.”

She nodded and he went back into silent thinking while she turned her face towards the window once more, trying not to cry.

Amanda really, really, didn't want him to die.

...

John's fate sealed, Amanda watched as he prepared instructions and tapes for a lot of tests to come after he was gone. The tapes were supposedly for her and the cop. He seemed to be around more and more.  

“Do you like that guy?” Lawrence asked one day. They both looked at an unconscious Michael Marks on the table. He was supposedly that fuckass Matthews’ informant. She was happy to kidnap him, to put him in a slab, to make him suffer just a little bit. She wished that he was conscious for his procedure, but John thought differently. In any case, Amanda was there simply to learn how to administer the drugs John needed, how to hook him to a machine, anything that she could while Lawrence was away on a trip with his daughter, which would last a while.

She was also aware she was on tape, but she knew her body and face were concealed from the camera lenses, considering she helped install the thing.

“What? Who, the cop?” Amanda asked, disgusted. Lawrence smiled.

“I guess not,” he said, threading the needle one final time, before he observed his handy work.

“Good job,” she said, strained, in lieu of anything else. 

“Thank you,” Lawrence said, dignified. She looked at him the same way someone would look at a particularly intimidating teacher. “So, shall we?”

...

Amanda is sitting at the Wilson Steel Plant, looking down at her hands, shaking. John's supposed to welcome the cops in a few hours. She's panicking, slightly. 

“Is this comfortable?” Lawrence asked, still there for this last checkup.

“As much as it can be. Thank you.” Lawrence took a last look at the bags and made sure he had enough oxygen in his tank, before nodding. 

“Alright. Guess I'm going now.”

“Yes, go spend time with your daughter.” John said, somewhat painfully. Amanda raised her head to look at them both. “These are precious moments you have with her.”

These are precious moments… The sentence was precisely what she had in mind too. Precious. She needed so much to get up and leave the room for a second, and it didn't matter if John followed her with his eyes all the way outside or if she felt so tired she could barely push the door.

Lawrence met her at the hallway.

“Amanda. It is my understanding that you're going to participate in this next game.” John didn't tell Lawrence everything, just the basics. She nodded anyway.

“Yeah. I'm supposed to make sure this kid is ok. And to make sure everybody knows the rules.”

“A valuable addition,” Lawrence gracefully added. “Who's gonna take care of John while you're gone?”

“No one,” Amanda said. “He's gonna be alone for a while. I trust him, though,” she said this, but looked down. Where she comes from, that was an admittance of guilt. 

“I see.” Lawrence said, knowing she was hiding something. “Well, good luck.”

...

Fuck fuck fuck!

“What happened to him?” Hoffmann asked Amanda as she brought a seriously injured John in.

“That animal Detective Matthews," she shouted at him, vitriol in every word, face horribly contorted. "Or should I say your fucking partner?!” Amanda asked, while Hoffmann helped her with John. “He fucking did this!”

“Amanda…” John murmured. “Don't.” She looked at him, feeling her eyes water, feeling herself to be ridiculous for this. Her only consolation was that Eric Matthews was gonna die. He couldn't survive what she did to him. 

“Where is he?” Hoffmann asked.

“I left him in the bathroom, like you said,” she lied, making sure to hook John into the IV, making sure to look for the right pills.

It's not heroin, but it might take the edge off. It's not heroin, but it might take the edge off. It's not heroin, but it might take the edge off. 

“Here,” she said, bringing the pills back instead of taking them, one by one until she was full. “Give these ones to John, it'll numb the pain. Then we'll hook him on morphine.”

Morphine, morphine, morphine…

“Are you telling me the truth?” Hoffmann asked. Amanda looked up again.

“What are you implying?” She asked, this time the threat being real. As insane as making an unlikely friend in a man you helped tie to a pole, Hoffmann was different. She had no idea why John let him stay for as long as he did. Why did he trust him so much? He smelled like a rat. 

“Nothing,” Hoffmann said with a half smile, and Amanda went back to making sure John not only stayed with them for now, but took some damned painkillers. 

...

Hoffmann disappeared somewhere, thankfully, and Amanda stayed to watch over John. She made sure to count the pills, the few bottles Lawrence brought, plus the stuff they already had, and she made sure to brush up on some reading. Turns out cancer wasn't as complicated as everyone made it seem. Didn't make it easier on anyone's body though, and John being as old as he was and as advanced as he was… 

There's not much time.

That was the crux of the matter. She bit onto a very sensitive skin on her lip until it bled and tasted it. She wondered where Lawrence was, if he and Diana were having fun. He was so removed from all of this, with his little suit and his little medical practice. 

Maybe in another life she could have had a Diana. Not that she felt particularly motherly. Cecil was the last man she fucked and he wasn't really a fatherly type, either. She wondered how it would be to fuck Lawrence and laughed a little at herself, a little secretive silent laugh, while reading the same sentence over and over. It would be like fucking a very specific type of white concrete wall. It would probably suck too. She wondered if he'd cry. Nothing wrong with it, she cried on most days now.

There was no way she could have a relationship like this. John coughed on the slab, and when she looked up his vital signs were stable. It's just a cough to indicate he's dying. No big deal.

...

Gordon is back from his trip just in time. Amanda was working on her own trap, the Angel Trap as she called it. It was supposed to rip a person to shreds unless they could get the key in a minute. It was poetic in a way, somewhat beautiful. John approved of it. What he doesn't know, he can't feel.

She kept working at it so she didn't have to hear the coughing, so it was incessant work by now.

“Amanda.” Lawrence said behind her, and she didn't point a gun this time. Instead, she just turned around.

“Hi.”

“Your hair grew.”

“Yeah,” she said, touching it reflexively. He looked somewhat sad. I look less like him by the day, huh? “How was your trip?”

“Good. Diana was particularly fond of the beach.” She smiled and turned back to her work.

“I liked the beach when I was younger.”

“You went with your dad too?” Amanda stopped. 

“No, not really.” She retrieved a screwdriver from the table. “John wants to talk to you. He's in his office.” There was a pause.

“I see. Thank you.” 

She watched as he made his way towards the door and went back to her work. Her dad really didn't do much good. It was useless to try to talk about him or even think too much . She looked at the office and could see they were talking through the window, wondering what it was about.

“So that's it?” Lawrence was crossing the room. He stopped to answer her.

“I'm supposed to come back for another stitching procedure.”

“I see.” Amanda stretched her back. “Is he OK?” His expression softens.

“Yes. He's alright.”

What a lie.

...

Troy's trap is set. He will not survive. Amanda is giddy, but tries to hide it, when everything goes as planned.

“What a waste,” John says, looking at the footage. He's sicker. More frail. She checks the bottles every day. She makes sure he has enough supplies, enough rest, food, water… 

“Yeah,” she agrees vaguely, pushing John, now in a fucking wheelchair. Everything has been hectic lately. John's worsening, Hoffmann being around more, the cops closing in, the kidnappings increasing. All of that. A Lynn Denlon is supposed to be around next, Lawrence suggested her. Amanda didn't get why, but John told her she's a neurosurgeon. The best. 

How convenient, a neurosurgeon who happens to be great at what she does and who is also throwing her life away. 

Amanda's thinking all of this while reading and looking at her trap from time to time, just to make sure it's still there, as if it would disappear. Turns out the cop is useful after all. He helps her put that bitch Kerry into it and she is elated to see as her creation finally takes her ribcage apart, revealing everything about her, good and bad.

John is wrong about killing. This can't be bad if it feels so cathartic. Some people just deserve to die. 

Did you? 

The illustrations in her medical books are beyond accurate.

...

Lawrence comes back, sews Art and some other guy's eyes shut. Amanda helps. She also helps Hoffmann kidnap a bunch of other people. John says they're human beings, but truthfully she can't remember who is who. She likes when Hoffmann gets a snide comment though. She doesn't like when Jill comes to see them. She can only remember the baby.

Hoffmann is looking at her weird, but Amanda is finishing yet another book, the last one Lawrence brought her. What was it, five books? She read some multiple times. She checked the bottles again.

“Amanda,” John's weak voice awoke her from her counting trance. “Are you resting?” 

“I'm alright.”

“I don't think so. I think you should have a good night of sleep.”

“How can I sleep when you're here?” She asked, distraught. His vital signs were so weak. She couldn't even fool herself about it.

“You have to accept what you can't control.”

“But I can't…” Amanda said, knowing her voice came out as a weak murmur.

“Counting bottles won't keep me from dying, but it will keep you from doing an acceptable job tomorrow. You must rest.”

But the letter was waiting for her. And her knives.

She cried the whole night through.

...

Everything smelled like a hospital. It was just a matter of time. John was laid down, at his likely final resting place. Hoffmann's letter kept ringing through her head.

Kill Lynn Denlon. Kill Lynn Denlon. Kill Lynn Denlon.

“You did a good job,” Lawrence said after checking John's heartbeat. Amanda’s wet eyes went to his face. He had a firm smile. “You could have been a good medical student.”

“Amanda is very bright,” John interceded. “She has a bright future ahead of her.” Lawrence nodded.

“I have no doubt about that.”

...

An hour later Amanda is screaming at a doctor about drugs and having a collapse. The room is somehow green, somehow closing on her and she wondered if these were symptoms of anything at all before coming back to reality.

Too many medical books.

“He needs surgery,” Lynn keeps repeating but honestly she needs to shut the fuck up before Amanda puts a hole through her head. 

She grabs and pulls hair, she cuts, she bleeds, nothing seems to be really enough. Everything is coming down. John is dying in a room, people are dying in the game and Lynn Denlon needs to die too.

Will John even survive? Why would I do what he says when he won't have time to tell him?

Because she wanted to kill Lynn. Why did he keep smiling at her? Why did he choose her? She was the best, right? That couldn't be it. That was one of the reasons, he said.

Then why? Was she special?

Amanda went out to get more drugs. Lynn wouldn't be stupid enough to try to escape. She was a smart type, a pretty doctor. Just like Lawrence, but even more put together. She had brains and even more. Lawrence didn't even look like himself halfway through his game, but Lynn was holding up fairly well. It was sort of impressive. She herself would be a pile of nerves.

In fact, she couldn't even put the key in the ignition. Could she run to Saint Eustace? That would be stupid. 

She tried again. And again. 

“Jesus fucking christ!”

Amanda, get a fucking grip. Now! John's gonna die! Get your shit together!

She drove to the hospital and back in record time, even if people screamed at her from their cars. Fuck them.

...

Lynn cut John's head open like she was cutting meat for dinner. Amanda had been lucky that Lawrence was on duty. Lynn couldn't even suspect he put her through this. 

“How is she?” Lawrence had asked. Amanda shrugged.

“We'll see.”

The machines were beeping. They were so loud. Oh my God. John.

“Amanda, I need your help!” Lynn screamed and her eyes were alert again.

...

Getting shot was as intense as she thought it might be by the looks of everyone else. Not that she had time to think about it as she collapsed to the floor, a relief considering the last few months or even years. Amanda wondered when was the last time she stopped thinking. John kept telling her things. She had failed. She looked up at the counter, at the bottles she had counted. She looked at him, she looked at Lynn. She couldn't see through the tears and she felt the warm blood gushing through her wound, through her fingers. It was her own this time.

She thought about Lawrence. She thought about her dad. She thought about Adam. 

You're dying, Amanda. She looked at John one last time. Maybe he would forgive her before she went.

“Game over.”

Yeah. It surely seemed that way. 

[blot-squisher]

🤣🤣 I have to ask since I saw the latest post. SFW for Leon please.

SFW Alphabet Ask Meme for Surviving the Game Leon Kennedy

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) Not the greatest at communicating how he feels verbally, Leon shows his affection best by trying to protect the people around him.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) Leon has learned not to trust people quickly, but he'll give you time to show him you're not going to stab him in the back. Once he does start warming up to you, he'll do his best to be there if you need him.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) Yes, but only when the two of you are alone. Being in or putting others in a vulnerable position isn't easy for Leon to do, but if you're in a place where he feels safe, he'll gladly curl up with you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) Settling down, starting a family, living the dream... Unfortunately that's all it can ever be. A dream. But it's a nice one. Leon can cook... well enough. It's mostly 'bachelor food' though. At least he makes up for it by keeping a tidy house.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) He'd be so so so fucking awkward about it. He'd try to come across as direct and confident (without sounding like a jerk) but he'd get so nervous it would end up being kind of funny, really.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) Commitment of that level takes time, but he's willing to put it in if you are. Marriage is iffy. He doesn't want to risk making his partner an even bigger target, but if he loves you that much he's going to do his best to protect you anyway.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) Leon can be very gentle when the occasion calls for it. He may have been trained to kill without mercy, but he still remembers his original goal of protecting and helping people. Emotionally, he can be a bit thick. He's not trying to be mean, he's just bad at this...

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) He's certainly not adverse to being hugged, but he's not about to get all touchy-feely with someone he barely knows. His hugs are usually firm and warm, offering a sense of security and safety to whoever's in his arms.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) Even when he starts to feel it, he's going to wait to say it. He wants to keep you safe and he's afraid that the moment he makes it too real, something terrible will happen.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) He's not a terribly jealous person, but when he does start to feel jealous he gets awfully passive aggressive about it.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss their partner? Where do they like to be kissed?) It all depends on the person he's with, really. He prefers to take the lead, but he can be persuaded otherwise. He's a little old school, so romantic kisses on the mouth are always a win.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) He tries to be the cool uncle, but he just comes across as a massive dork. Kids seem to pick up on this and will do everything they can to push his buttons until he's itching to lock them all in a closet and call it a day.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) Sleepy. He'll fight his alarm to the bitter end and usually end up late to whatever he's supposed to be doing. But hey, at least he gets a few more minutes to cuddle with his partner.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) This is where he tends to get most busy. The hustle and bustle have calmed down and he's got time to focus. Good luck prying him off the computer or away from whatever paperwork he's got in front of him.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) Leon is actually pretty open about his past, at least in part. There are certain things he feels he still can't talk about. Not because it hurts or scares him, but because he doesn't want to share information that could make someone else a target.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) It really depends on the subject. He can get frustrated pretty easily, or at least exasperated, but it takes something pretty serious to make him legitimately angry.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about their partner? Do they remember every little detail they mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) As a former cop and a long time special agent, it's hardwired into him to remember the little things. Even the smallest detail can be the difference between success and failure.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in their relationship?) Seeing his partner safe and happy. Knowing they're okay is what's really important to him.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect their partner? How would they like to be protected?) Leon has weapons hidden all over the house. Under the sinks, the couches, the bookshelves. If there's any threat, he will be ready for it. He doesn't expect you to protect him, but having a partner who can watch his back is always a great relief.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) He's not going to go overboard, but try to do something he knows you'll like. He does get busy and things tend to get pushed out to the last minute, but he'll still try and do something special.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) He can get a bit obsessed with his work. Figuring out who did what, what their plan is, how to stop him. It's gotten him into plenty of trouble in the past, and probably will again in the future.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) He claims he's not but check his bathroom. Guy's got enough hair care products to give the Trickster a run for his money.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without their partner?) Leon feels every loss, but to lose someone that special would send him into a bad spiral for months.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) He actually really likes playing pranks on people. Nothing harmful or hurtful, but more than once he's been overheard giggling, 'Confuse, don't abuse,' while putting someone's personal belongings in jello. Dwight hates it.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) Leon has been betrayed before. Just be honest with him and don't hide things behind his back even if you think he'll be upset. He'd rather you tell him directly than find out later.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?) He fights sleep on a nightly basis, only to fight waking up in the morning. It's a cycle he will never break.

[his-red-right-hand]

His Red Right Hand, Chapter 2

You awoke to an unpleasantly dry mouth, and a distinct feeling of disappointment. Luckily a nurse noticed you were awake and fixed the first problem with some ice chips, and the second was slightly mitigated as the pain meds started to take effect.

The next few hours passed in a haze of doctors - the blade had nicked your kidney but they were able to fix the damage - and the police questioning you. Apparently being The Ghost Face’s only surviving victim made them really want to talk to you.

And if you found yourself engaging in a little creative editing of what had actually happened, well could anyone blame you for not wanting them to know exactly what had occurred between the two of you? You still weren’t really sure of what to make of it.

So, yes, you had stumbled upon the scene by accident whilst trying to make your way home. And then you “Just froze up out of fear I guess.” The wounds on your throat and shoulder were “He was just trying to get a reaction out of me I think. But I was kinda terrified, so...” No conversation, no promises, no aching tension between the two of you that made you feel like you were aflame when you thought back to it.

You weren’t sure when you became such a good liar; must have been all those reassurances that you were doing ‘Just Fine’ over the years. But you nodded solemnly when you needed to, and promised to contact them if you remembered anything else - no matter how small. You refused to feel bad for lying to the cops; it’s not like what you left out would actually help. It just proved exactly how fucked up you were. And he was, but he was a serial killer, so that just felt like a given.

You had about half an hour of nothing to do but stare at the clock, stare at the ceiling; and enjoy your opiates before your next visitor.

A reporter.

“Jed Olsen,” he introduced himself with a charming smile, one dimple crinkling a cheek as he did. “Roseville Gazette. Would you be okay with answering some questions?” He was cute, in that clean cut All American way, square glasses framing his deep hazel eyes, dressed business casual, a small scar cutting across his lips that was probably from some sort of sporting misadventure; and his dark brown hair in that floppy curtains style that was so popular at the moment. You were pretty sure it was the painkillers talking when you were thinking about how much you wanted to run your hands through it.

“Yeah,” you croaked, wincing a little. You pushed yourself up a little with your elbows before reaching out to the cup of water on the side table, taking a few gulps before trying again. “Yeah, sure.” You gestured vaguely for him to take a seat.

The dimple got deeper as he pulled up the visitor chair to the side of your bed. Sitting down, he reached into his satchel, pulling out a yellow legal notepad and a mini tape recorder. That was turned on and placed on the side table, before he reached back into the satchel to get out a biro, uncapping it with his teeth, flipping it in his fingers and sliding the end of the pen back into the lid in a well practised motion. “Promise this won’t take very long.”

He leant over towards the recorder, quickly stating “Jed Olsen, Hospital interview,” before making eye contact with you, leaning back into the chair. “So, tell me a bit about yourself.”

“Not straight to the stabbing, huh?”

“I figured I’d ease you into it.”

That was nice at least, you had a feeling it was the only thing you were going to be talking about for a while. “Not that much to say. Born here, school here, graduated here, I work at Roseville Books.”

“No college?”

“Started doing English Lit at Roseville Community, but dropped out after my first year. Didn’t see much point, and I like working in the bookshop, so...” College implied a level of future you never really felt like you had.

“Big reader, huh?”

“Used to be. Don’t have time for it so much any more.”

“What’s your favourite genre?”

You huffed out a small laugh, a twinge in your side making you regret it a little. “You’re not going to believe this, but horror. I like to read about serial killers and monsters.”

He smiled at you, “Irony is rarely fun outside of stories. So, do you go to parties often?”

“Not really. One of my friends got invited; she’s back at college doing a bookkeeping course for her job. It was a Girl’s Night Out thing. Just like old times,” You can feel your smile turn a little pained as you said that.

His voice turned gentle as he got to the inevitable question. “Do you mind telling me the events leading up to your attack?”

“Everyone was having fun, but I wasn’t really feeling it. I think I’m getting a bit old for college parties.” You let out a self conscious chuckle, rubbing at the back of your neck. “I went out for some air and figured if I started walking then I could make the last bus. I saw a flash of light, wanted to make sure it wasn’t someone creeping on people making out or something. Which was a really dumb idea. Everyone... everyone was already dead when I found them.”

“And that’s where you saw their attacker?”

“Yeah. He was taking pictures of them. Then he saw me. I froze up. He came at me, pushed me up against the wall. Then he stabbed me.” You probably shouldn’t be so blasé about it, but after the amount of times you went over this with the police you had really lost the ability to care.

“Did he say, or do anything else that you can remember?”

“I think he maybe took my picture before I passed out? But otherwise, just the,” you mimed a stabbing motion, popping your tongue as you did; which made Jed chuckle for a few moments, before he calmed himself down and eased back into Professional Journalist Mode.

“So, you’re the only victim to survive a Ghost Face attack. How does that make you feel?”

“I was pretty confused when I woke up, didn’t expect that to happen.” No way you were a good enough liar to fake any sort of happiness or gratitude at being alive. Confused was a good enough stand in for disappointment. “I don’t really think I got lucky, or anything like that. I think that... I stumbled in on something by accident and was enough of an afterthought to him that he didn’t care enough to make sure it took.”

Jed nodded solemnly, refilling your water glass from the jug as you reached over to take another drink, smiling gratefully at him. “Any advice for our readers if they happen to encounter the Ghost Face?”

“Uh... Don’t be an idiot and just stand there, run as fast as you can.”

That got Jed chuckling again; reaching for his tape recorder and putting it back in his satchel. “I think I got everything I need, thanks for talking with me.”

“You’re a better conversationalist than the cops are.”

“I weirdly hear that a lot,” he replied, pen capped and notepad put away as he started to stand. “I’ll call you if I need to check anything, don’t worry, I already have your number - in a not creepy way, the sheriff’s office gave me some basic info about you.”

“I dunno, I think them just giving out stuff about me is a little creepy, but that’s on them, not you.”

He smiled at you, that dimple crinkling; and you could imagine that there were probably quite a few people in Roseville who really wanted that smile directed at them. “Look after yourself, hope you’re starting to feel better soon.”

“Hey, uh, Jed? Can I tell you something, like, off the record?”

He turned back towards you, sitting back down in the chair he’d half gotten out of, there was a look of interest in his eyes, but he didn’t get his notepad back out of his satchel. “Yeah, of course.”

“I didn’t, just freeze up. I saw him, I saw what he did to those people, and I just thought ‘Oh, he’s going to kill me. I’m going to die.’ And I was just… okay with it. It’d all be over with. Fuck, it was a relief.” You leant back in the hospital bed, looking up at the bland ceiling, the stains on the tiles there almost forming a picture in your still fuzzy mind. “I’m not like, suicidal or anything, you know?” You lifted your head up to make eye contact with the journalist again, the words starting to tumble out of your mouth. “It’s just, I felt more alive in those moments when I thought he was going to kill me then I have in…” A pause, the realisation of quite how long it had been now feeling like more of a punch to the gut than the stab wound in your side. “In years. That fucked up or what?”

“I don’t - I don’t think that makes you fucked up.” You could see the fingers of his hand flex, like he wanted to try and reach out, maybe in comfort, but thought better of it. You weren’t quite sure what was brewing behind his eyes, but there was an intensity there that spoke to… Something. The moment was broken by him letting out an awkward chuckle, rubbing at the back of his head as he broke eye contact. “Maybe not entirely healthy, but not fucked up. Anyway, I really should be getting back to the office…” He trailed off, and you felt a little bad for just dumping that on him; he already had enough messed up shit to deal with reporting on the murders, he didn’t need you being a freak at him.

“Yeah, don’t let me keep you. Thanks for listening though.”

“It’s no problem, really.” He responded with a smile, and for a moment you almost believed him. He dug a hand into his satchel, and pulled out a business card, the tips of his fingers brushing against yours as you took it from him. “You ever need to talk again, there’s my number.”

You looked at it, a mobile number as well as his office line, fancy. “Thank you Jed,” you said softly, smiling at him as he gave you a wave goodbye and headed out. Oh, you were tired, but it felt a bit better to get that load off of your mind. And at least one person didn’t think you were utterly insane, which was nice. Maybe you’d just close your eyes for a little bit...

--

Your very well earned nap ended abruptly with the loud proclamation of “I am so sorry!” Pulling a face as you started to sit up, hearing “Were you sleeping? Sorry!” your brain vaguely alert enough to identify the voice as Sarah, long time friend and worst designated driver you’d ever known.

“I was waking up anyway,” you lied as you opened your eyes, shifting your pillows to help prop you up, stealing a glance at the window to see the length of the shadows outside, letting you know you’d managed a couple of hours of rest. “The meds got me all dozy, so don’t worry about it.”

“Are you in lots of pain?” she asked, all big eyes and self recrimination as she sank into the chair that had been left vacant by Jed, still by the side of your bed.

“Right now? No, they got me on the good stuff. And as long as nothing happens to me overnight, I should get to go home tomorrow. Ask me again in about 3 days.”

“I am so sorry though. I shouldn’t’ve gone off and left you alone. It was meant to be girl’s night...” The quivering lip and honest sorrow in her eyes kept you from commenting about how she wasn’t the only one who’d done that, or that she was your first visitor not on business. You especially squashed down the thought about how you were having to comfort everyone else about almost getting murdered. Then again, you only needed comfort for the almost part.

“Hey, you had no way of knowing, I’m the one who decided to walk home. Please stop crying.”

Sarah stopped sniffling quite so much, your half hearted absolution apparently good enough for her, and started to fill you in on what you had missed. Which honestly wasn’t that much, although losing your two days off a week to being stabbed stung worse than the wound itself right now.

After about half an hour of this one of the nurses came by to let Sarah know that visiting hours were over (also delivering a super appetising looking dinner tray), and the tears started again. After a very awkward hug that just about avoided pulling your IV out, and a promise to call her once you got home, you were left alone to pick at your salisbury steak and contemplate life.

You hated contemplating life.

And the food wasn’t much better.

The cruel sting of mundanity after the thrill of your flirtation with death ached deeper than the disappointment of waking up. Having to go back to the life that has killed your spirit so that the flesh was eager to follow felt cruel. How could anything be the same after you felt that spark of life once more?

The answer was simple. That’s what life was. You’d just lost the ability to fool yourself that it was anything else. Life was a grindstone, and you had been worn down to so little remaining.

What’s worse was that you knew you were lucky. You had a job you had enjoyed at the beginning. Your manager being relatively relaxed and probably more than willing to give you time off to recover, but you needed the money.

As you finished digging a hole through the powdery mashed potatoes, you pushed the tray away from you with a small huff of disgust, picking up the fruit cup as the probably most edible thing in this whole place. You weren’t particularly hungry anyway. You never were, going days of barely eating anything except the odd cereal bar, sometimes cup ramen, then being struck with an intense hunger that had you ordering way too much take-out. Then you could pick at that over a few days until you felt hungry for anything again. At least it kept your grocery bills cheap.

Exhaustion echoed in you, bone deep. Maybe all those sleepless nights were catching up with you, or maybe it was the pain meds, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. Wouldn’t it be nice to just not wake up? You felt yourself drifting off to sleep again, hoping you would dream of a masked man making your dreams come true.