#nah. probably later when i will post officially about my setting/ideas

[prostocupoftea]

I have made a stickrr

Aww, look at him! Ah, it seems like he has something behind him- But, i mean, you wouldn't want to disturb him, right? (:

It came out good for the first time i think, hehe

And of course my object show style integral oc bc she is already everywhere and i show no signs of stopping

Also yes this is my work laptop. Yes it glows in the dark. I have no shame certified

[anomander-dragnipurake]

Bowser's Castle Chapter 8: Don't Need Saving

[A/N] I said I wanted to update again at the end of January or start of February and I am! Yay! Even despite the fact that I don't have as much of a backlog as I would've liked before posting another chapter. But I kept my sort of promise and I am working on this fic again, just slowly because it's not my main project. So when's the next chapter going to come out? I have no idea. It might be a while though if I decide I want to get a good backlog of chapters going again before updating so don't hold your breath. I'm excited to be working on this fic again though.

~

“We’ve managed to cast basic protections over the castle. Of course, making exceptions for our boos and dry-bones is something we’re still working on. I have also found a suitable candidate to spy on the Boo Kingdom, ready to be seen by you at your leisure, sir.”

As Kamek spoke Bowser paced in what little space the secret room behind the throne room had to offer. He stopped now to look at Kamek, standing in front of the part of the wall that turned into the door. “That’s it?” It’d been more than a week since the whole thing with Luigi and King Boo, Bowser had expected more. “He didn’t show up at all?”

“I would’ve informed you if he had.”

If it were Bowser, he’d have gone for vengeance the next day. … Maybe that was why he struggled to properly enact his vengeance so much though. Perhaps taking time to properly plan and do whatever King Boo was doing was the way to get things done. … Nah! He’d lost to Luigi three out of four times, not a good win rate at all. Bowser’s way was still clearly superior. King Boo was not only being a fool in whatever patient planning he was going for he was also being a pain. Bowser wanted his easy victory sooner rather than later; he was starting to get bored of this.

“Damn coward.” With a huff Bowser started pacing again. Why had he decided to hold this meeting here again? It’s not like a spy overhearing it would have anything useful to pass on to anyone. “Send the boo spy to me tomorrow around noon.” He wasn’t in the mood to deal with that right now.

“Noted. Now, out of curiosity, how goes your plan with Luigi?”

Bowser stopped pacing again to looking properly down at Kamek. “You’ve seen it so you tell me.” He may have originally invited Luigi to dine at his table purely on a whim but it had proved to be a genius move in that it had set a precedent to invite him every night. After being fed such great food and treated like a high-ranking minion, Luigi had to be so thoroughly on Bowser’s side by now he’d probably be almost willing to betray Mario.

“I still have my doubts and believe you’re being friendlier with him than is wise. Even if we did save him and even if he is now officially your minion, he’s still Mario’s brother and thus not to be trusted.” No doubt that’s why he’d asked the question because he’d wanted a chance to say that. He almost never agreed with Bowser’s intuition about people and always went out of his way to make that known. Yeah sure, he was often right, but this time he was wrong. “Letting him stay at the castle is one thing but having him dine with us and letting the kids talk to him unsupervised as much as they have been may not be a good idea. It puts him in a good position to spy on us even more than whatever spy the Mushroom Kingdom already has watching us.”

Maybe he had a point but Bowser had already made his decision. “I have it under control.” During the occasional run in and sub-sequent conversations they’d had, Bowser was careful not to reveal anything important – he always was when it came to practically everyone except for Kamek and sometimes the kids. Rarely was anything important discussed at dinner. And the kids were all smart enough to know not to tell secrets to just anyone… probably anyway.

Kamek was silent for a few seconds before replying. “Of course you do. Your people skills are as sharp as your spikes, Your Royal Astuteness. Now sir, if we’re done here, I have work to get back to.”

“Yeah, yeah, dismissed.”

With a wave of his wand Kamek vanished in a puff of smoke. Bowser took a step towards the secret door, lifting a hand to open it but paused before actually doing so. His spikes weren’t sharp; maintaining them as such was more effort than he was willing to put in. Did Kamek know that though? … Maybe not, they did look sharp after all and thus it was an easy assumption to make.

With a shrug, he opened the door and stepped out. He waited for the wall to finish closing behind him before stepping out from behind the throne’s dais. He intended to keep going and head off to take his boredom induced frustration out on something but paused instead as his eyes met the goomba’s standing in the middle of the room. It was too late to pretend he hadn’t seen them either, they were already rushing over.

“Lord Bowser sir! Mario’s here! He said he’s come to save his brother. But E. Gadd’s here too and said not to worry about him and that he would make sure he didn’t cause trouble. We weren’t sure what to do and they were insistent about being let in and E. Gadd’s never been barred entry before so we let them in. Captain sent me to tell you but that was a while ago because no one could find you so I don’t know what’s going on anymore.” They spoke so fast it was almost hard to understand their words especially as they hopped from to foot during their whole spiel.

Normally Bowser would’ve been furious to learn that Mario had been just let into the castle basically uncontested. This time though he had a surprise weapon. It was a bit earlier than he would’ve liked but whatever, King Boo was failing to show up to finish being dealt with while Mario had delivered himself to his doorstep. He’d gladly accept the opportunity to rub Luigi being on his side and his minion in Mario’s face. “I’ll handle it.”

***

The green dress did actually look good on Luigi, better than Peach’s. He’d never had a problem with wearing dresses but also he’d never had one fitted specifically for him. It made more of a difference than he would’ve thought both in terms of how it looked as he examined himself in the newly added full-length mirror and how it felt on his body as he swiveled the skirts a bit. It was comfortable and looked good. He’d have to thank the tailors later when he…

The bedroom door slammed open. He yelped, already gathering his skirts up so they wouldn’t trip him as he ran away from the danger even as he turned to look at it.

“Luigi!” Mario shouted as he jumped in.

Letting out a heavy shaky breath, Luigi relaxed as Mario ran over to give him a hug. They’d talked on the phone almost every day but it somehow felt like a long time since they’d last seen each other in person.

“I’m here to rescue you!” Mario said as he stepped back, grabbing onto Luigi’s wrist to try to tug him towards the door.

Luigi pulled back. “I don’t need saving.” He’d already been saved.

Mario scowled but obediently let go of Luigi’s wrist for now. “It’s Bowser though, Bowser.”

“We’ve been over this.” Several times on the phone until Mario had seemed to drop but apparently he’d only been biding his time until he got here in person to bring it up again. “But, uh, now that you’re here in person I can finally tell you…” Luigi took a step closer and leaned in, lowering his voice to a whisper. “I was thinking that I could spy on him for you.” Bringing up his vague idea to convince Bowser to be better likely wouldn’t be met favorably by Mario and thus there was no need to bring it up when things were already this tense. “So that I’m not being totally useless while hiding here. I think I’m actually in a good position to…”

“No. It’s too dangerous.”

Despite his initial relief Luigi was already tense again and had to struggle to keep a calm demeanor. “Leaving is what’s too dangerous. King Boo’s still out there. And he’s mad at me still… even more than before. If I leave he’ll get me for sure.”

“No, no.” Mario shook his head as if to emphasis his point. “We know what to expect now so we can fight him off when he shows his face again. You don’t gotta rely on Bowser and Kamek.”

“We already talked about…”

A familiar bark cut him off, making him jump to look at the door again. Polterpup barked again before rushing over to zip around Luigi and Mario in a circle a few times before lifting his paws up onto Luigi in demand of pets. Which he got of course even if, seemingly unlike him, Luigi hadn’t gotten over their last encounter. Obviously the bite had been for King Boo but it had still hurt and even now still wasn’t fully healed yet. He was a good boy though, deserving of a bone if only Luigi had one.

“Hey, sonny.”

Once more Luigi’s gaze was drawn to the door. E. Gadd now stood within it, breathing heavy as he leaned into the door frame. “Your bro sure can run fast, huh? Almost as fast as you when you’re fleeing from ghosts.” He chuckled as if that were funny. “Anyway, I brought Gooigi too, as promised.” He stepped into the room, allowing Gooigi to step in behind him. They raised their hand in a greeting as well.

Luigi returned it. “Hey. It’s good to see all of you. I missed you guys.”

“I brought the Poltergust 3000 that you had stored in your room, safe from King Boo’s wrath.” E. Gadd went straight over the bed pulled it off his back to plop it down on the bed. “I would’ve liked to bring the upgrade I was working on and was almost done with but it was in my lab so it’s a small piece of the mess in there now. We will have to make due with this old model.” His tone typically quite jolly grew a bit bitter with those words. “My lab being in such a state also means however that I don’t have any other ghost hunting or even detecting equipment. We’ll have to depend solely on Kamek for a bit. Which shouldn’t be a problem. Knowing him, he’s probably been…”

“No,” Mario interrupted again. “I already told you, I’m gonna convince Luigi to come back home with us.”

“And I already told you I’m not going back yet. I’m safer here.” He was thoroughly convinced of it now. During dinner and while hanging out with the Koopa Kids he’d overheard or straight up been told of the preparations Kamek and the magikoopas were taking to defend the castle from King Boo. It wasn’t exclusively for him of course but because Bowser had angered King Boo and that likely meant King Boo would attempt vengeance on him too. Knowing the castle would be attacked wasn’t a pleasant thought but if he left, he’d be exposed and hunted down for sure. At least here he had a chance. “And… and I know I’m a coward but… I don’t… I, I can’t face him again. I just can’t.”

Honestly, he'd always felt that way and had only done so to save Mario. Now though, it was even worse than before because what if King Boo possessed him again? Maybe expecting it, he’d be able to fight it but… could he really win in any mental battle against King Boo? Probably not. And then, having been forced out once, King Boo would likely be far more careful not to end up in such a situation again. Dooming Luigi to his whims until he decided he had enough fun and either killed or put Luigi in a painting.

“And you won’t have to,” E. Gadd said, the bitterness gone from his voice. “With Kamek’s help I’m sure we’ll have King Boo under control as soon as he dares show his face here. So really Mario, there’s no need to make a fuss.”

Mario shot him a glare before turning a concerned look onto Luigi. “Is this about how I couldn’t do anything? All those times you saved me from King Boo and then when you needed my help against him I…”

“You couldn’t do anything but I could.” It was Bowser coming through the door now, wearing a smug grin that grew as Mario turned to look at him. Bowser walked right past him, placing himself next to Luigi before turning to face him. “I saved Luigi after you failed to.” He put a large hand on Luigi’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “And now he’s my loyal minion.”

Mario’s face grew red with held in anger as he clenched his fists and glared up at Bowser. “I… I… thank you for saving my brother. But he’ s not your minion and I’m not going to let you keep him locked up here. Is that why you want to stay, Luigi? He’s making you?”

“No.” Nor was he staying because he was afraid of what Bowser might do to him if he left. “And as I was telling you earlier before you interrupted me, I, uh, am kind of Bowser’s minion now.” He winked, hoping Mario would get it because he liked his little plan to spy and maybe convince Bowser to stop being a bad guy. He was a weak coward but he was determined not to be useless any longer.

Bowser chuckled triumphantly, his hand still on Luigi’s shoulder, jostling him slightly. He was surprisingly not being overly rough though. Luigi could probably easily escape his grasp if he wanted to. There was no need to yet though.

Mario took a step back. “That’s dangerous.” At least he got it though and didn’t assume Luigi actually meant he agreed with the idea of being Bowser’s minion. “Far too dangerous.”

“I assure you he’s perfectly safe with me.” The smugness in Bowser’s voice and possessive hand on Luigi’s shoulder was a good reminder that this was indeed dangerous. He was clearly viewing Luigi as a pawn here to get to Mario and that wasn’t a position any wise person would relax in. But regardless Bowser had already proven himself to be not as bad a guy as he seemed so...

“Yeah. I’ll be fine here. Trust me.” Luigi put more confidence into his words than he felt right now but he was staying here no matter what so he was going to do his best to enact his plan too.

Mario flexed his hands, his gaze going from Bowser to Luigi and back again. “I can’t stay here with you to help protect you though.”

That was downside but there was no choice. “I’ll be okay, I promise.”

And with that all of the fighting spirit seemed to finally drain from Mario as he let out a heavy sigh. “Okay. But you,” he pointed at Bowser, “you’ll pay if you ever hurt him, got it?”

Bowser chuckled again even louder and more triumphantly than before. “I’d like to see you try.”

Mario’s only response was to take a deep breath before turning and marching out. Probably for the best otherwise a fight between him and Bowser would likely break out sooner rather than later.

“Ha-ha!” Bowser patted Luigi on the back. “That went even better than I thought it would. Keeping you around was the best idea I ever had.” He stepped back at last, moving to the door as well; his business apparently done here. “That dress looks good on you by the way, be sure to wear it tonight during dinner.” And with that, he was on his way out too.

“Hmm… that went well.” Whether E. Gadd was being sarcastic or not was hard to tell as his tone and expression remained jovial. “I should probably be off too, got to talk to Kamek about our now shared ghost problem. I’ll leave Gooigi and the Poltergust here though in case you need them.”

“Okay. Thanks for coming.”

“Of course. See you later, sonny.” Unlike the other two when he left he had the manners to close the door softly behind himself.

With a sigh, Luigi looked around the room. Polterpup had run off somewhere, probably chasing a ghost scent or something. That was perfectly all right though, he could use some quiet time with just Gooigi as company. He’d have to catch up with Mario later but for now he should probably show Gooigi around and make sure they knew that Bowser’s boos were temporarily on their side and thus not to be vacuumed up.

[moonlit-imagines]

Slipping Away

Jason Todd x reader

warnings: shot description of jason’s face industries

a/n: no this is not an oc idea im basing this off of not at all nope nah nope. (it might be. okay it is. it’s titans!leila but more emotional and less angry)

prompt: @captainshazamerica: “Aihosvakvsi Lacey I'm so sorry, I'm a dumbass cause I swear i read the pinned post and re read the rules but apparently I cant read😅😅😅🤦🏻‍♀��okay, SO xD Can I have a oneshot of being the close younger sibling of Titans Jason Todd and seeing him go through, you know, everything(😅)(like current red hood arc) and reader being real conflicted cause she is super close with jason and hates seeing him go through this but obviously doesnt approve. and with hurt/comfort if possible?(and/or angst with a hapoy/fluff ending?) Thanks so much! Hope you are having a good week!”

Now that everyone was back in Gotham, it was officially time to get to the bottom of this mess. Wayne Manor was bleak—er than usual. And it all started when Jason, the boy that was practically your brother by now, was brutally murdered by your father’s arch nemesis. A hell of a way to go, and not one unfamiliar to the citizens of Gotham City.

You were struggling during this whole mess and things only seemed to get more difficult. More heart-wrenching and sick. Every breath you took set off another cruel, confusing event for you and your family, both Bat and Titan, to investigate and take care of.

And it all started because you weren’t there. Just a night off so you could enjoy your city for what it was instead of lurking on rooftops and stalking potential troublemakers. Jason needed space, you needed fresh air. Perfect trade off. “Call me if you need anything, Jay. I mean it.” You told him while gathering your things near the exit of the garage, about to pick one of many keys belonging to one of many cars.

“I probably won’t. Benched, remember?” Jason gave you a passive-aggressive reminder of his current stance with Bruce and you rolled your eyes. “Oh, come on, y/n. It’s not fair! You’re still allowed to go out in a suit and throw bad guys in jail!”

“He’ll come around eventually.” You patted Jason on the shoulder. “Bruce is just…he’s weird. I mean, he dresses like a bat to fight crime, you know he has problems.” You chuckled to yourself, but your brother was not in the mood. “Listen, Jason. You haven’t been yourself in a while, he’s just looking out for you.”

“Bullshit!” Jason threw your arm away from his shoulder and backed up, causing you to raise your eyebrows in surprise. “You and Dick never get scolded like I do. I got sent away to San Francisco because I needed to be ‘corrected.’ And it was the worst mistake of my life.” He shouted at you and you began to walk away. “You don’t want to admit it, but Bruce hates me and loves you!” His voice echoed through the garage.

“Have it your way, Jason.” You waved him off and stepped into your chosen vehicle. Just before you slammed the door, you spoke your last words to him. “I really hope you stop focusing on Robin and start focusing on yourself or else you’re gonna end up dead.”

It wasn’t until later that night you’d regret those words, the moment you got a news alert from your phone just after parking your car. The headline: Joker’s Last Laugh: Clown Surrenders After Bludgeoning Batman’s Sidekick Robin. You read the title over and over until your phone began to ring, it was Barbara Gordon herself. You knew what was coming and you burst into tears just before answering the phone.

“Y/N? Y/N…you heard already.” She heard you crying to the point where you could barely speak. “He’s here, and Bruce is going to be here soon. Come to GCPD, I’m here for you.” Barbara assured and you hummed an “okay” before hanging up and hyperventilating behind the wheel. Your mind was just racing with questions.

Why did he do this? Why didn’t he call you? How did it happen? Why did the Joker surrender? Should you pay a visit to Arkham? Should you call Dick?

“Dick…” You mumbled, sniffling thickly and lifting up your phone to call him. But you hesitated. You couldn’t bare to talk to anyone else about this right now and threw your phone aside. “Later.” While still shaking from pure shock, you started your car and drove to GCPD. By the time you got there Bruce had just landed, so it was just you and Babs. You silently walked down the hall to the morgue, arms crossed and hands squeezing them to the point of bruising. You weren’t ready to see him, but you couldn’t refrain. The coroner unzipped the bag slowly, making seconds feel like hours. Barbara reached out for your hand and grasped it tightly as you laid eyes on him and gasped.

“I know, I know.” She whispered to you as you broke down once again. “We have Joker, we’re gonna make him pay.”

“Pay?” You took your hand away. “He’s never going to pay! It’s the same story over and over! He murders, you throw him in Arkham, he schemes, breaks out, and murders again!” You snapped at her in the coroner’s company. Barbara peered over at him awkwardly.

“Could you give us a minute, Eddie?” She requested and he nodded, promptly exiting the uncomfortable scene and shutting the door behind him. “Y/N, it’s really all that we can do. He’s clinically insane, practically untouchable by the law. And Bruce…he wouldn’t…”

“But I would.” You stared at Jason’s broken face, exposed skull. “I was taught to do so, maybe I should.” Barbara took you by the hand again, much more aggressively.

“You aren’t an assassin anymore, y/n. Do not stoop back down to your mother’s level.” She warned and you looked back over to Jason, knowing what he would have wanted. Just before you could say anything, the door swung open. “Bruce…”

“Dad.” You gulped and he said nothing, just walked forward and stared at Jason. Your brother, his son, Gotham’s Robin. “Dad, I’m sorry. I don’t know why he didn’t call me, I would have stopped him. I’m sorry.” You began to beg for forgiveness, but he was in no mood to speak to you or anyone else, for that matter. Growing frustrated, you stormed out of the room and decided it was time to call Dick. You were shaking again, missing the right buttons on your phone. Once it started ringing, you didn’t know what to say.

“Hey, y/n. What’s up?” Dick answered.

“You haven’t seen the news yet.” You observed out loud.

“What? What do you mean.” He waited for you to respond during a long pause. “Y/N?”

“Jason—” You thought you’d make it through the sentence, but even speaking his name felt like you failed him. “Jason’s dead.” The line went silent. “It was Joker. I don’t know what happened, we’re at the morgue right now, Bruce just landed half an hour ago. I don’t think he’s okay. Dick, please come home.” You began begging another quiet family member and heard him start shuffling around.

“I’m on my way.”

—————

The funeral happened before Dick even got home. Bruce was more distant than usual. You felt alone.

One thing after another, Bruce lost his mind. You woke up to one more person missing from their bed and Dick, he had to call in the Titans.

You were both relieved and furious that the Joker was dead. You’d been a killer before, you could have done it again for the right reasons. But your father, he was off the deep end and now missing. You should have been the one to do it. Just another thing to blame yourself for. So you decided to sit out on the Bat thing, just for the night. You had backup, so it gave you time to recuperate.

But that just wasn’t the end of it, because when the Titans came back from their night of wonders, Dick had to pull you aside and tell you disturbing news.

“Y/N, hey, sit down with me for a second.” Dick asked you, pulling out one of the Batcave chairs while the other Titans stood nearby, waiting for your reaction. “Tonight we ran into another Red Hood terrorizing Gotham.”

“Yeah,” you adjusted yourself in the seat, “what about him? Joker sparked another comeback?” You turned around to see all of your colleagues intently staring.

“Something like that.” Dick sighed and kneeled down in front of you. “It was Jason. He’s alive.”

“No, he’s not.” You quickly replied. “He’s not, I saw his body. Bruce buried him. He’s gone.” You began to panic inside.

“Did you see Bruce bury him. Did you see him in the casket?” Dick questioned and you just stared at him with watering eyes and a quivering lip. He nodded and opened his arms. “Come here.” You fell into them and began sobbing once more. You felt so weak and tired from the amount you cried, but you’d never experienced such a devastating loss. You didn’t know how to cope losing a brother, one so close to you. You couldn’t process his death, let alone coming back. Dick rubbed your back for a moment and assured you, “We’re going to figure this out.”

“Y/N, come on,” Kory softly said with her hand on your shoulder, “let’s go back upstairs. All of us. After tonight, we all need some rest. We’ll figure everything out in the morning.” You wiped your tears on your sleeve and agreed, feeling all eyes on you as you left the cave with her. “You okay?”

“Not really.” You laughed. “Not everyday your brother dies, your dad becomes a murderer and disappears, and your brother comes back as a terrorist.”

“Yeah, you Bats never seem to get a break.” She wrapped her arm around your should. “But the Titans are here for you one hundred percent. Anything you need.”

“Thanks, Kory.”

—————

Dick knocked on your door first thing the next morning, slowly letting himself in. “Hey, Gar’s making breakfast for everyone. You okay to come down?” He asked while walking to your bed. “As soon as we finish we can start looking into the Jason thing, okay? Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Not really.” You laid on your pillow and looked up at him. “And I doubt you did, either.” Dick sort of smiled at that, but before he could think of something to say, there was a large crash in the kitchen and a series of overlapping shouting.

“It’s fine, I got it!” Conner yelled and you assumed everything was cleaned up in a moment’s time. It actually got you to smile.

“Okay, I’ll have breakfast with you.” You pushed the covers off of yourself and walked with your brother through Wayne Manor, although it didn’t feel much like Wayne Manor anymore. It was much brighter with the Titans roaming the halls.

“Y/N, Dick told me what your favorite was!” Gar held up a plate of breakfast foods and smiled widely, exposing what sort of looked like fangs. “Still hot.”

“Thanks, Gar.” You smiled weakly back and took the plate, sitting with the rest of the Titans who tried their best not to stare at you, but they were worried. They really were, but they let you eat in peace while having light conversations around you. There was something about their presence that calmed you, there was less tiptoeing around the Manor, especially since Alfred passed. You continued clearing your plate and your spot and walked down to the Batcave without another word.

“Are they okay?” Conner asked Dick and everyone looked over at him, who knew you best. Dick gave them a very forced smirk and nodded.

“They will be. They just need some time to process this.” Dick began to clean his own spot at the table, too. “I know y/n’s had their fair share of loss, but their grieving process…it was tattered when they lived with their mom and grandfather.” He explained, piquing the Titans interest. They knew you, had fought alongside you, but you still chose to keep some things to yourself.

“Are their mother and grandfather people we would know of?” Gar inquired.

“Ever hear of the League of Assassins?” Dick answered his question with another and Gar’s jaw fell a bit. Dick then made his way to the cave to meet you, with the rest of his team following loosely behind. They found you replaying the security footage from the Titan’s encounter last night, trying your best to zoom in on Red Hood and evaluate his movements.

“How is he back?” Conner asked the big question. “I mean, y/n, you saw him, right? After the…the Joker.” You didn’t look away from the replay, but answered him honestly.

“His face was bashed in. Bone exposed. Brain, too. But his face here, I mean, it isn’t much to go off of, but I don’t see any cavities in his facial structure at all. He…looks…fine.” As you explained it to them, you began to realize just what you were saying. The other Titans thought you were beginning to lose your grip again and backed away, but you were trying to evaluate just how possible your idea was. “Fuck!” You shouted, slamming your hands on the computer and rushing up the stairs. Everyone jumped as a reaction and a few followed suit.

“Y/N? What’s wrong, are you okay? Talk to us!” Kory tried to console you, but no one knew why exactly you had began this little rampage. Once you got to your room, you crawled underneath your bed to pull out a large case full of some al Ghūl heirlooms. Among those were weapons, robes, and several papers, scrolls, maps. One map contained locations of known Lazarus Pits in the United States, “just in case you need it,” Ra’s said to you some time ago.

“What is that? A map of what? I can’t read Arabic.” Dick looked over your shoulder, analyzing the map as best as he could.

“Lazarus.” You whispered and Dick’s eyes went wide.

“You don’t really think that’s what this is, do you?” Dick asked you, hand on your shoulder as the others stared in confusion.

“Dad told me to check all these locations a while ago, but I never got around to it. I didn’t think I’d need to. But it makes sense, Dick. Everything about it does.” You explained to him, along with the rest of the team.

“Meaning?” Gar chimed in hoping to get something more from this, but the only person in this room who knew the full effects of the Put was you, and you were now terrified.

“It’s worse than we thought.” You shoved the case back under your bed and ran back to the cave, leaving everyone with a very disturbing sort of idea in their heads as they tried to understand what you meant. You began to cross reference the map locations with the morgue and quickly found your answer. The Titans and you learned of a Pit below GCPD.

“Can you please explain to us what exactly this Pit does and why it’s so worrying?” Kory requested and you felt your chest begin to grow tighter. It pained you to know that Jason was out there alone somewhere with the effects of Lazarus.

“My…My mom’s side of the family—specifically my grandfather—had found Lazarus pits some years ago. Their like enchanted pools, he used them to keep himself young because they have these certain healing properties.” You nervously explained, uncovering some unsavory memories. “The only thing is that there are side effects to them. It messes with your mind, and the more serious the injury…the worse the effect is…and…”

“You don’t have to go on if you don’t want to, y/n. It’s okay.” Dick tried to stop you, but you wanted to be more open with the team. The Titans were on the edge of their seats.

“No, it’s okay. I need them to know how dangerous this situation is.” You assured him and continued. “My grandfather kept himself alive for centuries with them, but each time he came out, he seemed to lose it for a bit. And I…I had used it once. There was a traitor among our ranks when I was much younger. He, uh, he stabbed me through the chest and my mother threw me into the Pit. It was a feeling I’ll never forget, and my mind…I wasn’t ready for it. For weeks I was extremely unstable and the psychological turmoil haunts me to this day.” You finished your story and saw pity in their eyes, making you wish that the story wasn’t even true.

“You only described injuries, though. Have you ever seen someone get resurrected?” Conner asked and you tensed up.

“No, but it’s not impossible. That’s what worries me,” you looked back at images of the new Jason, “who knows how messed up his brain is of he was healed from death.”

—————

Days went by and tragedy struck again and again, all by the fault of Jason Todd. But the thing is that you didn’t really believe it was Jason in there. It was Lazarus, or Scarecrow, the drugs, something else. It was not Jason. You and Gar had agreed on that much and he became a shoulder to lean on, but the others weren’t as patient with him. They needed to take him down.

“No, you guys don’t understand. He doesn’t need to be brought down, he needs help.” You pleaded with the team, trying your best to get them to see that he was still one of you, but the death of Hank shook their faith too hard.

“Y/N, he’s dangerous. I know you love him, we all did. But that’s not Jason anymore.” Kory approached with a soft voice and tried to get you to see things their way, but you saw things Jason’s way. What he was doing was wrong, but he could still be saved from it. He’d never be the same, but you’d do anything to help him. You’d want them to do the same.

“I refuse to give up on him.” You pushed her hands off of you and stormed down to the Batcave taking off on one of your motorcycles. Fortunately, you’d kept a secret from the rest of your team. Jason’s tracker was still online, you’d realized that a few days ago and had been keeping tabs on Jason and Crane, spotting them on warehouse cameras and such. The only problem is that the signal could sometimes be blocked. But it was a start, and right now, it seemed that Jason was alone.

“Y/N? Where are you going?” Gar said over your comms.

“I’m taking care of shit.” You answered and turned your earpiece off before peeling out and searching for your brother. He was just walking the street when you found him, completely alone and seemingly upset. You pulled up beside him and flipped your helmet up. “Jason?” You asked and he continued walking, so you walked your bike alongside him. “Jason? Can you hear me?”

“Go away.” He growled, shoving his hands in his pockets. You sighed and hopped off the motorcycle, turning on its security measures and catching up to your brother. “I said go away. I don’t want any more trouble.”

“I know you don’t.” You stopped in front of him and tried to look him in the eyes, they told a story. Bloodshot, dark circles, pupils normal. The effects of the Lazarus Pit had worn off, but he was exhausted. “I don’t want any trouble either. I just want my brother back.”

“You can’t, he’s gone.” He nearly got lost walking through a crowd of people, but you wouldn’t let him get away that easily. He veered off into a parking garage and you ran in with him.

“I know what you’ve been through.” You called after him, hearing your voice echo. “But I can’t talk to you here.”

“Then don’t.” He bluntly replied. You grabbed him by the arm and he willfully stopped.

“When’s the last time you ate?” You asked him and he stayed silent, looking away from your eyes. “Come on, we can go get some fast food and go to my apartment in the city. No one else knows about it.” Your hand trailed down his arms to his own hand. “You’re still my brother. I don’t like what you’ve done, but I know what led you to do it.” You began to walk and he walked beside you, letting you lead him down the street and back to your motorcycle. After about fifteen minutes, you’d obtained two bags full of food. Burgers, fries, drinks, and such, whatever he wanted, you could tell he was starving. It was a hassle being able to hold it tight on the bike, but you guys were pretty resourceful.

“The others are mad at me, aren’t they?” Jason asked you as you parked your bike and grabbed your share of the food. You sighed and grabbed the keys from your pocket.

“Some of them are. But I think they’re just really worried about you and the path you’re going down.” There was a long period of silence between the ground floor and your apartment on the fourth. You let him into the cozy little “safehouse” you’d made for yourself to get out of the Manor. “I know it was the Lazarus Pit.”

“I figured. Takes one to know one.” He sat down at the barstool near your kitchen and ripped into the bag, starting to eat his food like an animal.

“What I don’t get is why you turned to Crane in the first place.” You explained to him, sitting by his side. “He gave you drugs and marketed them as an out and you took the bait. You’re a Robin, what made you think that was a good idea?”

“I was a Robin.” He corrected quickly. “And I needed…I needed something. Something that was going to stop the nightmares, the flashbacks. I needed to get away from what was left of SF.”

“You needed help, Jason. You could have come to me.” You reminded him without cornering him. “And Scarecrow, he’s manipulative, you knew that when you went to him. That led you to become a terrorist, a murderer. That’s never going to go away.”

“Are you speaking from experience?” Jason grabbed his drink, giving you an antagonist little look and seemed to be reverting to his former self. It gave you a bit of relief to see him in a better mood.

“You know how my grandfather treated me.” You answered with a hint of regret in your voice as you remembered your time with the League. “I was a weapon to him, nothing more. When Bruce found out the truth he rescued me from them. If I remember correctly, Bruce saved you from a rough situation, too.”

“You’re still a weapon.” He reminded you. “And he left me in the dust. I died, y/n. Where did Bruce go? I don’t see him here now.” Jason began to get irritated.

“Bruce snapped and murdered the Joker. No one knows where the hell he is right now.” You revealed and Jason’s face dropped.

“That was Bruce?” You watched Jason look away from you and stare off for a moment, looking at all the decor in your apartment. Pictures of you and your family on the walls, little decorations and hidden weapons only he could spot from a mile away. “What did the others do?”

“Forgot about him. He’s a grown man with a lit of problems that are too late to solve. No one knows how to help him.” Your voice wavered as you wondered if you’d ever see your dad again. “You’re still worth fighting for. And I know what you felt being thrown into that Pit. Being resurrected is traumatic.”

“When do the nightmares go away?” Jason asked you about your own experiences.

“A couple weeks.” You assured. “I know it’s hard, but you’ll get through it.”

“Yeah, sure,” he whispered, “can I take a shower?”

taglist: @volturi-stuff // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @brutal-out-here // @jinxll11 // @swanimagines // @captainshazamerica // @greek-mythographer // @cipheress-to-k-pop // @summersimmerus // @glxwingrxse //

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 292: You Say Jeans

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “well anyway here’s that Touya reveal I foreshadowed like a million years ago, viva la 2020.” Dabi was all “hello world, I’ve killed 30 people and today I’m going to explain to you all why” before he proceeded to explain ABSOLUTELY NOTHING but everyone was so distracted by his tale of child abuse and hero conspiracies that they didn’t much seem to notice. Can’t Ya See-Kun’s Shark Friend was all “IS THIS THE END OF HERO SOCIETY AS WE KNOW IT”, and Horikoshi was all “STAY TUNED”, and then Dabi set himself on fire and leaped off of Machia’s back like the chaotic evil, I-just-bleached-all-my-brain-cells weird little fire man he is, ready to burn everyone to crispy bits before they could even react properly to his whole big revenge speech. Fortunately he did not succeed on account of THE RETURN OF THE JING, THE JOAT, BEST FUCKING JEANIST, back from the dead by popular demand in what critics are calling “the best fucking comeback since Jesus himself.”

Today on BnHA: Best Jeanist snatches up Machia and the rest of the League with his fiber steel cables before you can say “more like BEAST JEANIST amirite.” Dabi gets all worked up and lights Hadou on fire which is a real JERK MOVE, and is all “THIS RIGHT HERE IS ALSO ENDEAVOR’S FAULT”, which, NOT SUPER CONVINCED ON THAT, BUT OKAY. Anyway so then he burns up all the cables holding him which is crazeballs btw, and then he and Shouto start fighting, and so basically the whole thing is a literal hot mess and we’ll see how that goes. Meanwhile Tomura wakes up and summons some Noumus, and poor Jeanist has to deal with those on top of the still-attempting-to-rampage Gigantomachia, and everyone else is all “we can’t help you on account of we’re all half dead”, and so it’s looking really bad. And then -- and I can’t stress enough how much I don’t even have the faintest idea how to segue into this next part -- the chapter ends with Mirio!?! just sort of POPPING UP OUT OF THE GROUND all, “SURPRISE, BITCH”, and it literally was so surprising that I am still just kind of speechless. WELL-PLAYED, I GUESS, lol wtf.

lol okay so the first page in the RHA scan is just the “three musketeers” movie promo image that we all already saw a few days ago. but it does confirm that (a) it is indeed a movie, and (b) that it’s set for a summer 2021 release! how exciting

okay so now back to our special Dabi edition of Making a Murderer

“ray of hope” oh hell yes. SAVE US MR. JEANIST

I guess he had a TV in his private hero jet or something?

gotta say, “dammit Dabi” does not even remotely sound like Authentic Best Jeanist Dialogue to me though. gonna need Caleb to see to this. well but what do you guys think? does Best Jeanist curse?? I personally feel like he’s one of those guys who NEVER EVER swears no matter what, except under the most hilariously trifling circumstances. like he’s eating an avocado one day and he accidentally stains the cuffs of his beloved jostume green and he’s all “FUCK”

btw how fucking rich is Best Jeanist though that he has his own fucking plane? the thought just suddenly occurred to me, you know? like even Endeavor, whose agency has its own on-site luxury apartment suites for all of his interns, still drives around in a dinky little car that Bakugou has declared to be too small. which, I guess we know why he felt that way now, seeing as the guy he previously interned with apparently gets around in Jeans Force One

anyway so back to the part where Jeanist shows up to save the day!! YEAH JEANIST WOOOOO

ILU JEANIST YOU REALLY ARE THE BEST!! HUGS AND KISSES!!!

lmao we just saw Gigantomachia take out like a hundred guys not ten chapters ago. and Best Jeanist shows up and takes him down in like two seconds. HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES LEAGUE OF VILLAINS. BET YOU’RE WISHING YOU’D TAKEN HIS QUIRK NOW, AFO. GET FUCKED YOU OLD SPUD

KACCHAN IS SO HAPPY TO SEE HIM AWW

SIDE NOTE, IIDA, YOU AND I ARE GONNA HAVE WORDS LATER ABOUT YOU ACTUALLY AGREEING TO PUT HIM BACK DOWN. YOU DO UNDERSTAND THAT THIS CHILD IS STILL DRIPPING BLOOD ALL OVER THE PLACE FROM HIS MULTIPLE STAB WOUNDS, RIGHT? WAY TO ASSERT YOUR AUTHORITY THERE. I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE CLASS PRESIDENT NOT THE CLASS CLOWN, COME ON NOW

LMAO DABI IS FRANTICALLY TRYING TO DO THE PLOT MATH

SHOULDA CHECKED MORE CLOSELY MY GOOD MARK. LOOKS LIKE YOU MISSED THE “MADE IN CHINA” STICKER ON THE BOTTOM. YOU HAVE BEEN BAMBOOZLED. OR ACTUALLY, I GUESS THE MORE ACCURATE WORD HERE IS JAMBOOZLED, AHAHAHAHA. JEANS

HOLY SHIT DABI

I legit almost thought that was Tomura for a second. you two look so alike now with the white hair and the crazy eyes

meanwhile, Shouto is still crying and it’s a lot to take, you guys. lotta feels

ffff come on Jeanist you better do something awesome again here, the mood of the chapter is starting to slip now

YES, GOOD, THAT’LL WORK

WELL YOU TELL ME, SPINNER. I GUESS THAT MEANS BEST JEANIST IS OFFICIALLY THE STRONGEST CHARACTER IN THE SERIES NOW. SORRY I DON’T MAKE THE RULES

ffff now Spinner is trying to wake Tomura back up. nah, how’s about we not do that

OH MY GOD HADOU YESSSS

MY GIRL OUT HERE WITH THE “NO THANK YOU” BOUT TO CURBSTOMP THE BIG BAD WITH HER QUIRK KSFHLKLK WHO HERE HAD “HADOU SAVES THE DAY” ON YOUR WAR ARC BINGO CARDS, YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!!

HEY!!!!

fucking son of a... fffkfkff... someone please reassure me that fire isn’t Hadou’s weakness. someone. anyone. also could someone please dial an ambulance and send them to Horikoshi’s house. but not just yet. first I’m gonna need you to wait about fifteen minutes or so while I take care of some things

well all right then, Dabi. so you wanna go on then and explain to us all how this, too, is somehow Endeavor’s fault?

oh I see, you’ve decided that since he’s responsible for “creating” you, everyone you hurt and kill is in truth really being hurt and killed by him! well now, that sure is convenient as fuck I guess

(ETA: that’s a nice effect with the panel sides getting all warped by Dabi’s quirk though, just noticed that.)

amazing how quickly you used up that sympathy card my guy. Shouto please kick his ass, I’m fucking done lol, you can all sort out the rest in therapy later

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE DIAL BACK DEKU’S EMPATHY STATS JUST A LITTLE BIT, HOLY --

“TODOROKI-KUN IS HURT THE MOST”, HE SAYS, WITH HIS ARM BONES SHATTERED INTO LITTLE TOOTHPICK-SIZED PIECES. I MEAN, HE’S PROBABLY TALKING MORE ABOUT MENTAL ANGUISH GIVEN THE CONTEXT HERE, BUT STILL. THAT’S ENOUGH HEROICS FROM YOU ALREADY FOR ONE DAY

NOOO JEANIST

LOTS OF SMOKE IN THE AIR RIGHT ABOUT NOW AND MY BOY’S STILL DOWN A LUNG. GOD DAMMIT

“if the number one suffers a total loss here, this country will fall to pieces” well okay, real talk though, I think the “country falling to pieces” part is pretty much unavoidable at this juncture. you all are just gonna have to try your best to pick up those pieces after the fact and see what you can do with them. if I were you I’d be less worried about the number one’s reputation and more concerned with the half-dozen child soldier interns who are still on the field and very much at risk of being burned to death should you suffer that “total loss.” please try to keep it together here for them

OH FOR FUCK’S

I really thought RockLockRock was gonna come into play here. USE YOUR QUIRK TO LOCK THE ROPES IN PLACE YOU DIP!! if he seriously just sits there and does nothing when his quirk could be the deciding factor I am cancelling his useless ass cute kid or no cute kid shfkjdls

(ETA: is he even there?? did he and Manual just hightail it out of there?? “well good luck, children.”)

also, we’ll put this aside for now to perhaps speculate about later, but what’s with Tomura remembering his dad’s house yet again in that far right panel?? and being itchy again?? I still have yet to fully work out the psychological mechanisms at work as far as his itchiness goes, so I’ll admit this is intriguing to me. it seemed like it was connected to his decay quirk, but then why is it acting up again now. what is this lol

yuh oh

forgot about these guys. looks like these heroes aren’t having such a fun time

oh fucksticks

excuse me ma’am but I don’t like this. you do know that my kids are all there, right. all burnt and impaled and broken-boned and the like. well except for Iida. he’s fine still. BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I FEEL LIKE WATCHING HIM GET TORN APART BY FOUR HIGH ENDS, WTF

HORIKOSHI YOU MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR TO GOD

god fucking... okay look. Horikoshi. you win, okay!? congratulations, you win, this is your show and we’re all just sitting here at your mercy. fine. go ahead and just kill off everyone ever, then!! what am I even gonna do about it. stop reading?? fuck

this whole thing really went from zero to fucked before I could even blink huh. I really thought this was gonna be a turning point chapter for the heroes. shows what I know I guess??

meanwhile this motherfucker is just SCREAMING

ngl, if I wasn’t currently terrified on account of things suddenly taking such a drastic turn for the worse, this would be the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Jeanist my man, I hype you up like it’s my job because you are the greatest fucking meme character in the history of time, but make no mistake, you are also highkey WORTH ALL THE HYPE AND THEN SOME

seriously, though. don’t fucking mind him you guys, he’s just standing here in the coolest pose of all time taking on Gigantomachia all alone with one fucking lung because the substance pumping through his veins is COLD-BLOODED LIQUID DENIM, and DENIM FEELS NO FEAR

Best Jeanist really needs to get his own theme song. -- oh my god I just finally thought of a title for this post. lmao and it’s the dumbest thing. omg

MEANWHILE THE TODOROKI BROS ARE OFF IN THEIR OWN DRAMATIC LITTLE FIRE WORLD

which one do you think is the Mario and which is the Luigi. well, but I mean, Dabi clearly thinks that he’s the Luigi though and that’s why he’s so mad. nobody wants to be Luigi. what a life

THAT’S IT, SHOUTO!! POINT OUT ALL OF HIS HYPOCRITICAL BULLSHIT, I WANT ANSWERS

JUST TO CLARIFY, IT’S THAT NATSU, NOT SOME OTHER NATSU!! SO WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!!

OH, WELL IN THAT CASE

BUT OF COURSE. THAT WOULD MAKE IT ALL WORTHWHILE, holy shit. okay I’m just gonna go ahead and say it, Dabi is a piece of work. I really thought this arc would make him more sympathetic at long last, but it seems like it’s doing just the opposite?? this is like an anti-redemption arc. I don’t relish the thought of venturing into the fandom tags once I finish reading this lol

(ETA: well folks, I’ve done it. and actually it was pretty interesting because there are apparently like ten different things that people are mad about, and so it’s like. each post is a new adventure lmao.)

so Shouto is all “BRUH HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST IT” and Dabi is all “YES”, basically? like, he says he’s completely lost his feeling for anything. omg. but you were so sweet. how does that even happen

“finally I can kill you” okay for real what the heck is your damage bro?? can we not. I like Shouto just the way he is, un-killed

oh shit and now the Noumus are here

cue Bakugou diving in to save his mentor, STAB WOUNDS BE DAMNED!! actually it would make more sense for it to be Iida, but if Kacchan is really fixin’ to go full Shounen Dumbass here then he might as well go all out, y’know

-- unless of course, Deku decides to activate another quirk??

“last I checked, the main character of this series was still me” OH? WELL I SUPPOSE THAT IS TRUE, SO PRAY TELL, WHAT HAVE YOU GOT LEFT UP YOUR SLEEVE YOU SUICIDAL BRUSSELS SPROUT

fucking love how he’s all “HAHAHA WITH MY NEW QUIRKS I CAN STILL DO STUPID SHIT EVEN WITH MY ARMS AND LEGS GROUND TO A FINE POWDER” btw. what can I say. Deku gonna Deku

FMMFHDKUHK W H A T

HOLY SHIT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. WHAT THE WHAT. QUE THE FUCK

(ETA: okay look, all the love in the world to the brave scanlators who take time out of their lives to translate the leaks every week just so we can read the chapter a couple of days early like the addicts we are. that said, translating Mirio’s signature “POWER!!” -- which was already written in English in the original scan -- to “POG-CHAMP” is just a whole new level of wtfuckery from them lmao. is the Lida person back at it again?? amazing.)

MIRIO!?!?! SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY?!?! POGS HIMSELF UP OUT THE GROUND TO BEAT THE NOUMUS LIKE IT AIN’T NO THING. JUST LIKE WE ALL PREDICTED!? I’M SORRY, DID YOU NOT SEE THAT COMING?? YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOUR DAILY HOROSCOPE FROM ASTROLOGY DOT COM DIDN’T HAVE THAT ONE IN THE CARDS?? WAS IT NOT OBVIOUS?? TODOROKIS PLUS BEST JEANIST EQUALS MIRIO??

hot damn. Tintin really saw the writing on the wall with the impending Dabi Discourse and was all “NOT SO FAST” lmao. “HERE’S A BRAND NEW THING FOR YOU ALL TO DISCOURSE ABOUT” MIRIO YOU WILD CHILD. YOU GLORIOUS THUG

MEANWHILE LET’S NOT FORGET WHAT MIRIO HAVING HIS POWERS BACK ACTUALLY IMPLIES. HOLY SHIT. SUDDENLY WE CUT BACK TO ALL MIGHT’S OFFICE, ALL THE WAY BACK AT UA. ERI BRANDISHES HER TOKOYAMI-GIFTED BUSTER SWORD, A DETERMINED GLEAM IN HER EYE. “I HEARD YOU WERE TRYING TO HAVE A GIRL POWER ARC WITHOUT ME.” OH. MY. GOD

[missinghan]

to my youth ⤖ lee felix

❖ genre : summer au; high school au; fluff

❖ word count : 11,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language, slow burn

❖ summary : it is official that life hates you because not only was your first few days of summer ruined by a stupid field trip, but things also got somewhat freaky… whatever kind of ‘freaky’ you’re thinking about.

❖ note : i know i said i’m ‘experimenting’ with new stuff but guess who’s back with another mediocre, not-that-well-written mess of a domestic au; please (kindly) yell at me to dabble into a new genre after bearing through this fic- happy reading!

one.

The echoes of your summer days remain as flowers immune to the winter chill, they say.

You’re not entirely sure who even fathomed their time and effort to come up with that statement but from your point of view, those flowers would most likely have either died out from the summer heat or withered horrendously because of the arbitrary showers of rain. Or you’re the only one who doesn’t have the luxury to see life through a rose-colored lens.

Because the first thing that comes to mind for you is the bucket of ice-cream and a YouTube OG that you’ve ceased to finish since finals started two weeks ago. The bell rings, pens down, everyone pours out of the classroom after handing in their exam papers. No one really bothers to check up on each other’s answers anymore; the last subject for today was AP Psych and you don’t know about them but you honestly can’t care any less thereafter cramming the entirety of five chapters. 

Sprinting down the staircase, you easily spot Felix amongst the midst of drowsy high school students for the bright color of his hair. He truly believes that if he slaps enough hair essence and coconut oil on his head four times a week, his hair won’t feel like straws when he changes it every other three weeks. But it’s only a matter of time before balding catches up to him, he’ll learn eventually.

“Please don’t tell me that you left your keys in class,” you sigh upon the sight of him fumbling with his folders and textbooks while trying to open his locker in vain. Just thinking about walking all the way back to the third floor makes you want to use your backpack as a pillow and take a nice nap in the middle of the hallway.

“Gee, Y/N,” Felix makes a face to not show the sense of relief washing over him when he locks eyes with you. “Who do you take me as? A clumsy person?”

“No, just a dumbass.” You coldly snatch a slipping book from his arms before turning to twist the disc in the combination of your birthday until the lock clicks, shaking the shackle off to swing his locker open. It’s a silent tradition that you both set each other’s birthday as your locker’s combination since elementary school; it started out as a stupid joke at first but neither of you really bothered to change it. 

“Why the hell would you put your keys in the locker?” you widen your eyes in disbelief as he grabs the bright yellow Spongebob plushie to collect his keys with a shit-eating grin

“My alarm didn’t go off today, so I was running a little late,” he defends himself while dumping everything out of his backpack, hugging an empty water bottle to his side. 

You throw a wave at a very tired Hyunjin walking side by side with Seungmin on his right and Jisung skipping happily towards your direction. Seungmin looks exceptionally moody today, you pray he didn’t mess up an easy question to take it out on all of you later in the car. “Bet you were staying up late to play Overwatch with Chan.” 

Felix manages to grin stiffly at your comment, turning on his heels and trudges onto the school’s parking lot. “Fine, walk home.” 

“Hey, you forgot to lock this!” you pull his steps into a halt by making a grab for his hand, utterly oblivious at how his cheeks flare up with a bright shade of red at your touch. Or out of embarrassment. Whatever, same thing. 

Felix might be a better driver than you, but he’d be fired ten seconds into the job of a babysitter.

With that being said, when Jeongin decides it’s a good idea to cheer a passive-aggressive, post-exams Seungmin up with a carton of strawberry milk and then proceeds to get lost in his own school, the very same school he’s been attending for who knows how long, you’re the one who manually pulls his ass back into Mrs. Lee’s Jeep within ten minutes. 

And Seungmin has already fallen asleep by the time Jeongin’s back, so now he’s the passive-aggressive one while sipping on the milk bitterly. Either way, this is why you headcount although there are only six of you after Changbin starts getting busy with his college applications. 

“What took you so long?” Jisung looks up from his phone the moment you climb into the passenger’s seat, clicking in your seatbelt (drive safe, kids). 

You immediately feel the need to snap a photo of Jeongin accidentally breaking the cafeteria’s door with the staff running towards him in a panic. They’re more scared for his life than the door itself and that’s… sweet to say the least but with the way that the embarrassed boy is glaring at you through the rear-view mirror, you decide to keep your lips sealed. 

“It’s getting dark so all hallways start to look the same, you genius.”

Jisung momentarily sticks his tongue out at you. “God, you’re so rude to me. You’d never talk to Felix like that.”

“Because,” you drawl. “Lix is a pure-hearted angel descended from the realms of Heaven. Whereas, even Lucifer would see you as an eyesore in hell.”

“See! You’re doing it again!” Jisung points a finger at you in accusation, jumping up and down in his seat but no one really cares. It’s not like you’re speaking any false facts. “Stop bullying me!”

Seungmin shifts his body a little, nose scrunched up at the noises that wake him right up. “Jisung,” he warns his friend without opening his eyes. “Sit the fuck down, you have five seconds.”

Felix smirks when Jisung immediately cowers, slumping and leaning himself against Hyunjin in utter defeat. He learned not to mess with Seungmin after throwing a wallet at him on impulse. “Jealous much, Han?” 

“Nah, she’s all yours bro,” Jisung waves it off tiredly; bickering and making fun of Felix’s gigantic crush on you is too much for his brain to process today. He can really use a long, solid twelve-hour summer hibernation after getting home. 

The statement prompts Felix to look over at you when there’s a red light—the same exact moment as you stop staring at the bakery from across the road to lock eyes with him. There’s a little spark igniting at the pit of his stomach, stirring up butterflies inside his rib cage. But he snaps out of it after seeing you raise a brow at him, implying a silent ‘what?’ before turning away again. Felix has always been the type to stare so you don’t bother to think about it too much. 

The problem is: he only stares at you that way. 

A shade of coral creeps its way up to his cheeks, his gaze averting back on the roads when the light turns green. As Felix tries to calm the erratic tempo of his heartbeat, he also thinks about how much time he’d have left to confess before high school is over and everyone takes their own different paths. Then again, the future is far too blurry for him to make out anything and the thought of changes petrifies him a bit too much. 

Felix wishes to hold your hand until the very end but he’s a little scared...because what if you never wanted to be with him in the first place?

two.

Your brother has one talent, and that’s his ability to irritate the living daylight out of you even when he’s practically on the other side of the planet.

Minho (un)fortunately finished his finals with flying colors, and inevitably, you’re the first victim to receive a series of texts that consisted of nothing but self-indulgent, excessive bragging. Basically, he’s allowed to do whatever slash go wherever for a good three weeks before his summer internship begins, dragging his dumb ass back to hell—where he rightfully belongs. 

He’s probably chomping on a terribly unhealthy amount of pizza, pretzels, and any type of New York street food that you can name from the top of your head. It’s not like he’s paying for them anyway since Chan doesn’t allow people to touch their wallets if they happen to eat out with him. 

Your phone vibrates obnoxiously on your desk, the judder slightly muffled because it’s lying on top of your wide-open psych textbook. You haven’t bothered with cleaning up yet; finals only ended yesterday and you decide that you won’t touch anything until the disarray starts to scrape against your nerves. 

Side note: you’ve specifically told everyone not to call you three consecutive days after finals because yes, you’re that much of a loner, and yes, your stamina level for tolerating human interaction is awfully low. 

Second side note: no one ever listens. 

“Good morning, this is Lee Minho’s personal bullshit pail,” you mumble after your thumb swipes against the screen to pick up, your limbs curled up on the floor. “How can I possibly help you today?” Your morning voice isn’t necessarily threatening but rather scary; according to what Minho claimed, it sounds identical to that creepy girl from The Grudge so he groans aloud, his voice suddenly going out of focus on the other line from pulling his phone away.

“Jesus Christ are you still in your hermit phase after finals?” he questions callously, sounding not at all pleased with the way you greeted him. “Where’s mom and dad? Usually, they would have slammed your ass by now for staying inside like a vampire.”

“Don’t be insufferable, it’s only like…” you trail off while bending forward to take a good look at the little Sumiko Gurashi alarm on your bookshelf that Felix gave you during middle school. “Nine thirty-something and they’re at the park to exercise, duh- why do you care?”

Your brother almost sings on the phone, “Because you’re my little baby sister-” And this prompts you to pull the device away for the sake of your poor ear. It doesn’t help when you’re already surrounded by a group full of obnoxiously loud individuals on a daily basis. Not trying to call anyone out but Han Jisung is at the top of the list, his name in bold, capital letters being circled and underlined multiple times with a red marker.

“Who do I gotta kill to sleep in on a dreadful Sunday morning as any normal, cranky, antisocial high school student would?” you deadpan and rub the bridge of your nose dreadfully. 

“I don’t know, go murder Jisung or something.” Honestly, that’s tempting… but no.

You can physically see the smug smile on his face right now, simpering in delight at your imminent misery. He knows goddamn well about your relationship with sleeping schedules and that’s the perfect excuse for him to ruin those little specks of time when your brain cells are getting an actual break. 

These are also the times when you wish phones don’t fucking exist. 

“By the way, are you gonna go on the field trip tomorrow?” 

This question wakes you up almost completely because your eyes are now wide as a fish’s out of water, your hand automatically putting him on speaker before digging through the folders inside your backpack. What field trip? No one said anything about a field trip. And who thought it’s a good idea to force some worn-out, post-exams, sleep-deprived students into a field trip right after finals?

Minho hums coyly when the only response he’s getting is the rustling sound from your backpack, “Hmm, see what I meant there, little sis? Oh, the downside of living under a rock at its finest.” He doesn’t have to be here for you to fully picture the way that his lips curl up, dark brows wiggling whenever he’s right about something. Your brother wins most of the time against other people but overtaking you is an entirely different story.

“Oh screw off and go buy yourself a sense of humor.”

“Don’t be so mopey, isn’t Felix gonna be there?”

“What does Felix have to do with this?” you grit after managing to pull out a piece of paper from the very back, buried under countless of your essays. And it reads ‘field trip’ in caps at the top with tomorrow’s date right beneath. The trip lasts for three days, you’re going camping with the grizzly bears for three days—a total nightmare, basically. 

“Pfft, you’re actually dense for someone with a sparkly report card,” he sneers. “That kid has been crushing on you since elementary school. Are the signals that fucked up?”

“You mean when I accidentally spilled orange juice over his head? Sure, bet that’s why he’s so head over heels for me,” you snicker, unfazed by these kinds of statements. Minho only knows Felix because he was the president of your school's dance club and you fully believe that your brother is simply trying to mess with your malfunctioning, cranky mindset. 

“I fucking beg to differ, he always stares at you like you’re the love of his life, even when you stupidly poked yourself with a needle,” Minho announces as if he’s a love expert, tsk, amateur. “He might just confess during the trip, who knows? Campfire flickering. Sharing the same s’mores. Surrounded by nature. That sounds romantically ideal to me for a confession.”

He’s visioning everything like a terrible cliché film where two high schoolers stubbornly deny their feelings for each other until they start noticing how cute the other person is while magically being forced to be alone together. The worst kind of high school movie—which is also almost every high school movie. And you best believe that you’d a hundred percent kick your brother’s ass off that director’s chair because people live and breathe for this kind of overused entertainment. Tragic. 

“Alright, fuck this, I’m out-“

“Wait!” Minho exclaims out of nowhere, almost blowing up your eardrums. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

You swear you’re rolling your eyes so hard, they’re about to fall out of their respective sockets. “Well, obviously,” you put the piece of paper down with a sigh, contemplating ways to minimize the amount of socializing in the upcoming three days. “Haven’t you bothered me enough? No?”

“You can’t leave me like this,” he whines in an annoyingly high-pitched voice that sends chills down your spine. 

“You need me, we’re connected.” 

He sounds like a whack version of Minnie Mouse for a second there, the kind of plushie that looks cute but with disturbingly creepy voice audio; no parents would let their children go near that aisle. 

You yawn as if there’s no tomorrow, stretching your limbs tiredly. “What I need is for you to shut the fuck up and leave me alone so I can go on my merry way to pick up snacks for this stupid field trip,” you utter lifelessly. 

“You hurt my feelings,” Minho pretends to clutch onto his chest and lets out a dramatic gasp, his voice doused in pure sarcasm. “What a heartbreaker, Y/N.” Said the one who always keeps his apathetic front up like a fortress’ wall and tosses every single love letter on Valentine’s Day into the recycling bin, handing the chocolate out to his classmates like he’s giving leftover vegetables to his least favorite relatives.

“Oh, I can tell,” you reply with fake enthusiasm and mock empathy. “You know how I can tell?”

“Do not finish th-”

“Cause we’re connected.” With that you hang up, slamming your phone harshly onto the surface of your textbook. 

three. 

You might love your room a little too much, it’s getting somewhat unhealthy.

It was furnished with a rather meager budget after your family moved out of your hometown when you stepped into elementary school. Things stay the same, well, most of it as time passes by you unknowingly. Your sad bookcase used to exist for one sole purpose—carrying countless books and plushies has now been upgraded with too many polaroids of your dumb group of friends, a neatly framed photo of Class of 2020 and two trophies that don’t even belong to you since Minho ran out of space as he kept participating in random dance competitions. 

The morning beams find their way through your white curtains and stain your walls with patches of yellow, eventually bugging your vision until you successfully convince yourself to either 1) wake up and get ready for school or 2) lazily stride across your room to shut the blinds completely so you can head back to bed. It’s summer… so option one is temporarily non-existent for a solid three months. 

Hey, you’re just simply making up for those all-nighters with a new cup of coffee every two hours.

Speaking of your bed, it’s soft but takes up so much space to the point that Hyunjin keeps complaining about not having enough room for his legs when he’s sprawled across the floor with Jisung, vigorously focusing on a presentation’s outline. Seungmin calls you lame for not throwing away your childhood plushies and letting them hog at least one-third of your bed, but Felix doesn’t mind since he always needs something to hug. All the more reasons why you can only trust Felix.

You might miss having those idiots being loud and invading your personal space...maybe.

Your phone rings for the second time that morning when you’re walking downstairs, shoving your keys into your pocket and grabbing a protein bar on the counter. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit right now, Minho,” you bark into the device, chewing on your breakfast aggressively, not bothering to look at the caller’s ID.

The closest convenience store is only twenty minutes away from your house but there’s a sticky note on the fridge from your mom, reminding you that she needs eggs to bake cupcakes for her company’s twentieth anniversary while your dad is running low on his Red Bulls. Basically, you’re in distress. It’s not like your dad should be inhaling those sugary drinks on a daily basis and your mom can just buy premade goods from the bakery. But there are more options for snacks at the supermarket…

“Y/N, the fuck?” The response of a voice as deep as the Pacific ocean almost makes you choke on air. “Did I wake you up or something?” Felix sounds flabbergasted on the other line, slightly taken aback. You almost feel bad because he’s the only sweetheart in your chaotic squad (besides Chan, obvi) except when he stays up late gaming with Hyunjin, pleading for your notes the next morning with puppy eyes.

“No, Minho did,” you grumble before tossing the wrapping into a bin.

“You don’t say,” Felix replies flatly, but his voice soon grows merry again after pushing the topic of your brother aside. “Oh, and I’m coming over to return your earphones, wanna grab breakfast?”

He practically lives ten minutes away from you, sees you almost every day even if it’s the weekend since he can’t stay in the same house with his sisters for too long and puts you on FaceTime every night to prevent himself from slacking off on assignments. The only time he didn’t get to see you for a week straight was when he visited Australia and accidentally dropped his phone into the ocean. It was a rough week without you nagging him for doing something stupid. Fundamentally, he’s merely making up more excuses to spend time with you after finals.

Chuckling, “Only if you’re treating me, I’m about to go broke from buying snacks for our field trip tomorrow.” you say breezily. 

And you’re only telling him that because he might just pay for your snacks as well since Felix Lee eats freshly grilled steak and mashed potato for breakfast. Baffling, absolutely. Plus, he works at a boba shop every summer either way and he would never hesitate to spend the entirety of his paycheck on any of his close friends. Irrelevant but the point is: you kinda don’t wanna go out alone today.

Or you’re just in the mood to go with Felix. That’s a useless statement since you both see each other at least ten out of twenty-four hours per day. 

“By the way, you know what I just realized?” Felix smacks his palm on his forehead. “This is our last field trip, like ever.”

Walking over to the rack of shoes down the hallway, you let out a large exhale. “That’s unfortunate on your behalf. I, on the other hand, don’t have a problem with that,” you tell him with zero consideration, your brain cells too busy picking out a pair of shoes to process the five basic steps to empathize with another human being. 

“No,” he emphasizes helplessly. “I meant, it’s like our last high school field trip. We’re graduating next year, no time to sleep with the grizzly bears again.”

You can only manage to utter, “Oh.” Shit, college is right around the corners. 

“Jesus fucking Christ what the hell am I supposed to do after high school? Stay here? Go abroad? Wait, aren’t applications for going abroad supposed to be turned in a year beforehand? Why are you only telling me this now!?” 

Felix laughs wholeheartedly through the phone, amused at your sudden outburst. “Y/N, calm down. You’re going to college, not prison,” he brushes it off casually but in a way, college is technically prison. Slaving over a degree while working part-time jobs, chasing time relentlessly like you’re driving in the middle of a foggy night with one headlight out. And you’re forced to open up with more strangers. It’s terrifying, actually terrifying. And you’re not the type to be easily terrified. 

Now come to think about it, you don’t get why you were so pressed about it five seconds ago. It’s a good opportunity not to leech off your parents as much, like dabbling, taking one baby step at a time into adulthood. After that, you’ll graduate again, probably settle somewhere with an adequate job and find someone, starting to think about having ki-

Hold up, you’re going too far. You’re barely a senior. 

“I guess we’ll just have to make the most out of this summer,” Felix’s voice snaps you back to the surface of Earth faster than a tick of a clock. “We’re outside, by the way. Open up.”

That fast? Furrowing your brows, you hang up to slip into a pair of sneakers before sprinting to the front door. Wait, your hand freezes as it grazes the doorknob. We?

Not again. 

“Why the fuck..” you cracks a lifelessly crooked smile after pushing the door wide open. “..are you here?” It’s only ten in the morning, and you don’t think you should be screaming at the top of your lungs to be jumped on by the whole neighborhood.

Felix takes a step back, a little scared for his life. “Uhh, to return your earphones?”

“No, no,” you run a hand through your hair tiredly. Just when you thought this day was gonna be peaceful. “I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about them. Since when was this an agreement? How dare-“

“Why yes, I missed you too!” Jisung exclaims like the little shit he is, throwing an arm over your neck to ruffle your hair. No one ruffles your hair without getting their ass slammed- except for Minho. “Why the long face? Let me guess, until this exact second, you thought there’s a fucking squirrel, a lama, a dog, and a kitten standing at your front porch? No, it’s us, your Forever BFFs.” He’s one of the reasons why you refuse to understand the humans’ language sometimes.

With a harsh shove from you, Jisung staggers backward only for Hyunjin to prevent him from rolling like a ball in the middle of your neighborhood. “One more word and I’m telling the whole class who your crush is,” you threaten, earning an involuntary snort from Seungmin. 

“I hate to admit this, but she might actually say yes if he makes the first move.”

Hyunjin supplies unconstructively, “That’s why he didn’t ask.”

“You know what, Hwang,” Felix says with a smirk tugging at his lips, bumping his fist against Hyunjin’s without turning his head. 

“Oh screw all of you.” Jisung’s getting all the attention he wanted this early in the morning yet he still feels like a loser. Perhaps he should try shutting up once in a while. 

four.

“Thanks for giving me a ride, uncle, you really didn’t have to,” Felix says generously from your dad’s back seats, scratching the nape of his neck as though this is the first time he’s ever shared a ride with you. 

He’s too humble sometimes you just want to smack him across the face with a pillow to stop being so formal with your dad. Heck, Felix downright called him ‘dad’ by accident once during a Christmas dinner back in middle school and your dad even encouraged him to keep addressing him like that. 

Not to mention, Felix is chomping on a turkey sandwich that your mom made this morning specifically for him after finding out that his parents are currently out of town and there's nothing but ramen in the cabinet. God forbids her to starve the same kid who helped your dad fix his bumper. So really, he should be expecting these things by now. 

“Oh it’s not a big deal, you’re too nice,” your dad laughs as he pulls over to your school’s front gate, careful not to run into that one really tall, ugly tree. You’re lowkey paranoid that people might die if it collapses during a storm or something. “Perhaps you can return the favor by getting a drink with me sometimes.”

Felix blinks numerous times, slightly gobsmacked. “...but I’m not old enough to drink yet.”

“Correct answer.” And you snicker when your dad turns around to toss a wink at your friend’s direction. “Doesn’t mean that I’m forbidding you kids have fun,” he clarifies upon the baffled expression on Felix’s face. “But not too much fun, got it?”

“Okay, okay dad, I’ll see you in three days,” you shake your head before climbing out of the car. “Don’t starve the cats while I’m gone. Oh! And Soonie still needs his lactobacillus-“

Your dad brushes it off with a sheepish smile, “I’ll leave it to your mom, muffin, I can’t even remember which dry food is for which cat. I also don’t think they’ll be starving anytime soon, those little demons are getting quite fat actually since your brother spoils them all the time.” You can only give him a mere eye-roll because as much as he claims to hate having pets, there have been countless times when you caught your dad red-handed trying to tuck the cats into bed in the middle of the night. 

Felix soon catches up with your steps after bidding him farewell, crumpling the sandwich wrapper in his palm. “Wait up, muffin,” he says breathlessly with a few skips, starting to think about not skipping dance practice again this summer before his body gets out of shape. 

“Shut up,” you grumble, followed by a harsh elbow jabbed into his side. Felix grunts in pain, slowing down a little but still tries to walk side by side with you nonetheless. “You don’t deserve that complimentary breakfast, I’m telling mom to cut your portion off next time.” 

“Ah! Come on, muffin! You’re being mean.”

Your biggest fear has inevitably come true—after all those years of erratic mood swings and other weird things puberty puts you through, Felix still makes fun of you for the nickname that your parents came up with on your first day of school. It doesn’t help with the fact that he meets them quite often too. Like four out of seven days a week since your parents love coming over to each other’s house for dinner. 

“Flip that scowl upside down now, will you?” Felix cups your cheeks and squishes them together, attempting to make your smile by tugging at the corners of your lips. “Aren’t you excited about the trip?”

You scoff at him, “Are you even hearing yourself? My entire existence reeks off ‘excitement’ 24/7.” 

“That’s bullshit.”

“I’m not responsible for whatever happens next to your face.”

But when you reach up to peel his hands away, you’re bound to make a grave mistake by looking straight into his eyes. The morning light hits his face at the right angle and it makes him look like a puppy—which you wouldn't mind starting at all day. Although it’s not like you haven’t got a good look at him before, something’s different today. From the way his irises twinkle gently like thousands of celestial bodies to how his freckles scattered across his cheekbones like the remaining bits from a supernova, his full lips with a prominent Cupid’s bow and his cute crooked teeth. 

You know all of these things; perhaps you’ve never put too much thought into them before. Not when you’re constantly facepalming at him for doing stupid TikTok dances and trying to eat a banana with its peel on. But now when you actually acknowledge them, your heart momentarily skips a beat. Or two. 

Doesn’t matter, you hate this feeling either way. 

“Get a room, this is disgusting to watch.” 

Seungmin steps in between you two with his backpack slung over his shoulders, hands resting on his hip like he’s babysitting you and your biological parents don’t pay him enough for this tedious job. But Felix is too busy making sure that his eyes aren’t malfunctioning when he sees a pink tint on your cheeks to focus on whatever nonsense Seungmin is spewing at him. 

“Get on the bus, losers! Y’all are embarrassing me!” Hyunjin yells as he plants a foot onto the bus, trying his best not to be subtle about the fact that all of your classmates have already been seated. 

You can practically see Jisung making weird faces from the window and next to him is a very cranky-looking Jeongin with his earbuds plugged in, deciding not to tolerate any chit-chatting this morning. It’s a shame how the school’s always on a low budget when it comes to transportation; consequently, some random freshmen got squeezed in with your class. 

So you elect to ignore your friend’s questionable behaviors (sometimes you wonder what he’s on to be this zealous at six in the morning) and grabs Felix's hand to climb onto the vehicle before coach Kim kicks your ass for slowing the schedule down. 

As you shuffle down the narrow aisle, you quickly realize there are only two seats left at the very back—basically, you feel a little guilty for not getting a good spot for Felix but he doesn’t seem to mind because he taps you on the shoulder lightly, signaling for you to move.

“Ugh, I wanna go home,” you sigh, slumping into your seat after tucking your backpack neatly on the small compartment above. 

“You’re boring,” Felix comments flatly but he’s partially glad that he got to sit with you instead of some blabberer. “Need this?” Fishing his earphones out of his backpack, he wiggles the banana milk case in front of your face. 

You only nod lazily at the offer, causing him to huff in disbelief before slipping in a side of his AirPods into your ear. You both have pretty similar taste in music so you don’t mind when he puts one of his playlists on random and Fly Me to the Moon bleeds into your eardrums. The soft melody makes you yawn a little, eyelids getting droopy. 

“Tired.” Is the only warning Felix gets before you decide to drop your head onto his shoulders, slipping your arm around his torso comfortably like it’s a pillow. You personally don’t do cuddles but since he’s into those things and smells nice—very fruity, somewhat musky too, you might as well take advantage of that with the hope of sleeping throughout the entire ride. 

“What is wrong with you today?” he asks with glowing cheeks. 

“Shh shh, I’m recharging my battery.”

Felix is a little flustered, to say the least. But instead of complaining about your sudden clinginess, he rests his head on top of yours like second nature, allowing his childhood song to drown out some of the background chatters. 

You should really be clingy more often… though he’s not gonna risk his pearly white teeth by telling you that. 

five. 

Your school actually knows how to manage money in a smart way. Shocker, you know. 

You are thrown off upon hearing that no one needs to worry about the grizzly bears, or wolves (hey, one can never be too careful) because everyone gets to share a log cabin with a maximum of three other people. 

In fact, the camp counselors have confirmed that even though they’re throwing a bunch of inexperienced, dumb high schoolers smacked in the middle of the wilderness, there’s really nothing to do other than boring team-building exercises...and fishing. In other words, the only creature that can somewhat do harm to you is mosquitoes. 

It’s been pouring nonstop when your classmates tried to set up the campfire with coach Kim screaming into their eardrums last night, no wonder those little shit are thriving to make your life more miserable—they’re in their element, reproducing at a terrifying pace. 

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” 

Hyunjin clutches a hand to his chest in both relief and terror after realizing the curled up figure sitting by the window is just you. He steps inside the cabin completely and flings his wet bangs away from his face, shoving the umbrella in his hand into a stand by the shoe rack. “You look like shit, are you okay?” he furrows his brows, slightly concerned about your eyebags and the way your lips crack from dehydration.

A soulless smile finds its way to your face. “I’m pretty sure ‘shit’ and ‘okay’ aren’t supposed to be in the same sentence but thank you for asking, I appreciate it.”

Here’s another downside to being a homebody: you can’t fucking sleep on any other beds that aren’t yours. And surprisingly that two-hour nap on the bus wasn’t enough to fuel you for the rest of the trip. But lucky you, it’s most likely going to keep raining cats and dogs and trash pandas for the rest of the day. Outdoor activities are no longer mandatory and you can almost hear your non-existent muscles crying in sheer joy. 

“Drink,” Hyunjin sighs at your pathetic state and decides to toss a water bottle in your direction. 

However, all you do is retrieve your limbs deeper into Felix’s fluffy blanket since he refused to use the grey one that’s draped over every bed beforehand. You’re far beyond grateful for that because those fading, questionable-looking stains just scare the crap out of you. And also because the fluffy blanket smells like him; you rest your case.

“You were knocked out for the entire bus ride, so why the hell can’t you fall asleep on a decent bed?” Shaking his head, Hyunjin plops himself onto Jisung’s bed like a potato, accidentally knocking over the neatly folded pile of clothes. He really doesn’t give two flying fucks about the fact that his friend spent an excessive ten minutes to organize his stuff so coach Kim won’t be barging into their cabin with a megaphone at five in the morning again. 

“She can only fall asleep on Felix, that’s why.” You roll your eyes in the bitchiest way possible, not bothering to chuck the abandoned water bottle at the unwanted guest of this terrific conversation. 

Hyunjin almost lets out a shriek when Seungmin jolts up from his bed, hair messy, a leg sticking out from his comforter. “You know, until this exact moment, I thought that you were dead or something.”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Seungmin elaborates as he bends over to reach for his glasses with squinted eyes. “There’s a 99,9% that Felix will make the first move but at the same time, it doesn’t mean the other 0,01% won’t happen so you,” he jabs his index finger towards you. “Better be doing something other than walking around camp like a zombie.”

Hyunjin tilts his head in confusion. “Since when was this even a thing?” You’re this close to have a permanent hand imprint on your forehead for facepalming every two seconds with your idiotic friends around. 

“Uhh, since forever?” Seungmin feels the need to voice out. “Listen, since the day Y/N spilled orange juice on Felix’s favorite shirt, the amount of times they’re forced to be together has risen tremendously. And when their parents found out their families live like ten minutes away from each other, they practically see each other every single day. Even outside of school. They tolerate each other, meaning the dynamic is long-lasting. Their bonding encouraged friendship.” 

“But we’re her friends too?”

A deep breath. “No, their friendship was incited to grow into something bigger, more profound because Felix has a special ‘click’ with Y/N that he doesn’t with us. God, Hyunjin, it’s been what, almost a decade! How could you not see it?” Seungmin says with expressive hands, almost yanking every strand of hair off of his head. It’s too early for this, his brain is about to implode. Hwang Hyunjin being dense just feels like a metaphoric chokehold to him. 

“Y/N,” Hyunjin simply ignores his frustrated friend to look over at you slipping into your sneakers. “You’re being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.”

“That’s because she’s about to either shut the door in my face then find Felix or kick my ass and then find Felix,” Seungmin informs with a yawn, and this prompts you to muster a fake smile. 

Oh, I’m fucking livid. 

“You know me too well.”

He questions with heavy irony, “I’m sorry did you just agree with me?”

“Oh no, no, I take that back,” you brush him off. “Is Felix still outside fishing?”

“I think so?” Hyunjin replies while running a hand through his hair in mere distress; Felix’s competitiveness goes a little mayhem sometimes when it comes to Jisung being better than him at something since they’re so close. That’s one of the sole reasons why Felix always manages to maintain his flying GPA because Han Jisung procrastinates like no other but still tops his class every single semester. 

“I didn’t find him at the lake, though, wonder where he went.”

You widen your eyes, somewhat alarmed since it’s almost lunchtime, and Felix Lee never, and you mean never, ever let himself skip a meal. He always gets a nice nap after stuffing his face with enough good food too, so that’s a bonus. But that’s not the point, the point is: you’re starting to get a little worried because he’s been fishing all morning, wandering alone in the wilderness without a camp counselor. 

You’d better not find him sleeping with the fishes. 

six.

Maybe you were right, maybe Felix is a dumbass.

Because listening to his ego and coming back to the lake after breakfast was a horrendous idea. 

It’s such a pity how those weird-looking vehicles have stopped driving around camp the moment it started pouring outside. Heck, he didn’t even bring an umbrella after asking the coach to check today's forecast. 

So tragically, he’s now stuck underneath the canopy of a cafe ensuing coursing his way through the water blizzard and seeking refuge but can’t walk back to his cabin where his cabin-mates are probably having the time of their life drinking hot chocolate and nibbling on hand-picked fruits.

Felix exhales in torment while gazing outside, everything’s completely white-out thanks to droplets of raining streaking the horizon. Perhaps dashing back might be his one solitary option, but shivers soon run up his spine again, reminding him that he’s probably looking like a wet rat—his black Converse sodden, water seeping through the thin fabric of his uniform, numbing his skin. 

Ruffling his wet fringe, Felix’s hand fishes inside his pocket to look for his phone only to realize that it’s not there. “Shit...great..just great, today is my lucky day.” Even if the camp counselors didn’t confiscate all the electronic devices, there wouldn’t be any service in the middle of the woods either. Splendid. 

“Ugh, Y/N,” he groans under his breath. “Why did you let me do this?”

“Shit.”

 “AHH!”

Felix shrieks upon the tiny voice squeaking out from behind him. And he sighs in pure relief to see a little girl standing mere inches away, looking no more than a seven-year-old dressed in a yellow raincoat. “Hey kid,” he chuckles and crouches down to her eye level. “Where are your parents? You’re not supposed to be out here alone when it’s pouring like crazy.” 

And to his dismay, “Shit,” the little girl giggles, finding a new profound interest in the curse word that he accidentally spewed out seconds ago. 

“Shh shh,” Felix frantically places an index finger on his lips while darting his eyes around in terror—he might be sued if her parents found out how their daughter picked up a bad word from some random high schooler. Suddenly he feels bad for his future kids. “No, no, we can’t say that. It’s forbidden. What’s your name?”

“Mina,” she answers cutely and fiddles with the ends of her braids. “Who’s Y/N? Is she your girlfriend?”

Felix chokes on his own saliva. “...no, why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, my dad always calls my mom’s name when he messes things up.”

“What does that have to do with- oh, shit,” he facepalms himself. This kid is going to give him a cardiac arrest any second now. “It doesn’t matter if she’s my girlfriend or not, what matters is I need to get you back to your parents. Do you know where they are right now?”

Mina simply shakes her head with a pout. “Okay, let’s go find them then,” he can’t help but cracks a smile, ruffling her hair endearingly. Most kids would be bawling their eyes out by now knowing that they’ve strayed from their parents; she’s a tough one. 

Felix gently grabs Mina’s hand, biting down on his lower lip as he prays that a cold doesn’t catch up to him tomorrow and ready to dash out of the canopy that’s been keeping him dry for the last hour or two. But then a figure comes into view from afar, holding an umbrella while squinting their eyes through the thick streaks of rain. 

“Y/N..?” he mutters to himself in disbelief when you quickly skip underneath the canopy, collapsing the red umbrella in your hands. Felix recognizes that umbrella anywhere—isn’t that Hyunjin’s? Have you been looking for him? And for how long too?

“Didn’t even think about bringing an umbrella, smartass,” you say with a raised eyebrow. “Oh dear, who do we have here?” Before Felix can defend himself in vain with lame excuses, you’ve already taken your attention off him to stare at the unfamiliar presence. Your intense gaze scares Mina a little, causing the little girl to squeeze Felix’s hand, hiding behind his leg. 

Your friend laughs, patting her little head in reassurance. “Mina, this is Y/N, my classmate. Don’t let her intimidate you.”

“Are you really going to bother with this little one?” you scrunch your nose a bit. “We’re having pork rib soup, by the way, better hurry if you don’t want Han to hog your portion all to himself.”

Felix rolls his eyes at how utterly apathetic you are towards children. If you can get a perfect A in calc then why is it so hard to simply comprehend that every twelve-year-old needs to be returned to their hypothetical parents safely? “What part of ‘a common sense of morality’ can’t you understand?” 

“I don’t want to, actually, sounds like a lot of work,” you hum sarcastically. 

“Your girlfriend is scary,” Mina ensconces herself further behind your friend, officially detecting you as a threat rather than someone who will potentially bring her back to the cabin where her parents are probably flipping the whole place upside down in a panic—which is exactly what you’re planning to do. 

In your defense, you don’t detest kids in general. Only the bratty ones. And Mina is borderline bratty. 

“You know, I can spare her some time, Lost and Found is like..ten minutes away from here.”

“Y/N-” Felix wants to scream at you, rubbing the side of his temple in distress. Imagining you babysitting your neighbor’s newborn last summer with nine bucks per hour, ten hours per day, and five out of seven days per week is one of the few things that constantly keeps him from having a good night's sleep. It baffles him how you haven’t accidentally drowned the infant while giving her a bath. 

Mina gives the side of his jeans a tug, round eyes staring up at him expectantly. “Or we can get juice pops!” she exclaims happily and looks over to you, mustering her best puppy eyes. “Please? I don’t want to be alone..” 

“Twenty seconds ago, you called me scary and now you’re guilt-tripping me?” you crouch down to get a good look at the kid. Bright, innocent brown eyes, cute button nose, and a chipped front tooth—perhaps she’s a little too cute to not get her juice pops. 

Then, “And juice pops too? You evil mad mind genius,” you say after standing up to unfold Hyunjin’s umbrella, swinging it over the top of your head. “That’s extortion, kid, you’re too young for that.”

Felix breaks into a fit of giggles upon seeing you failing at trying to keep a straight face and steps in beside you under the umbrella. His next problem just pops up right then and there—Mina can’t squeeze in considering the umbrella that Hyunjin gave you is solely used for one person. 

“Mina, hop on here,” he decides to get on his knees, permitting the little girl to clumsily climb on his back and eventually plopping herself onto his shoulders. 

“Oh, oh, oh, can you two hold hands?” Mina suggests with a shit-eating grin on her face. This causes Felix’s cheeks to burn with a bright shade of red while you’re too busy throwing daggers at her with your eyes to notice. “My family does this all the time, my dad would carry me on his shoulders and my mom would hold his hand as we walk home after going to the park.”

You and Felix yell simultaneously, “We’re not your parents!!” But that doesn’t seem to scare the little girl. You’re both just encouraging her. 

“Yip yip, horsey, don’t be disobedient now,” she giggles to herself and pulls at a solid patch of Felix’s hair, making you cringe because his hair and scalp have already had enough from his questionable obsession with bright hair colors. 

“Ow! Mina! Stop it! Ow!”

“Okay quit torturing my friend,” you tell her and decide to slip your hand in with Felix’s, intertwining your fingers to secure the grip before showing it to Mina so that she’ll stop before any blood is drawn. “There, we’re holding hands just like your mommy and daddy, you happy?” 

Felix doesn’t say anything even when Mina nods happily, releasing her monstrous grip off his poor scalp. He only lets you tug him away from the canopy of the cafe as he gazes downward, eyes glued to how your hand fits into his perfectly. The sound of rain tapping against the umbrella suddenly bugs him, suffocating him in a way. In other words, it’s really unnatural to think this way about his best friend but he doesn't want you to let go at all. 

Everything seems to move faster when you’re holding onto his hand so certainly. Felix thinks you’re fully aware but try to fight off the voices that are taunting you to just drop it. And truth is, you can care less because your head is now far too fuzzy to focus on anything but the road ahead. 

You pray he doesn’t feel the pounding rhythm from your veins. If your red ears haven’t given it away already. 

seven.

Jisung has weird friends, that’s a fact. And no, you’re not talking about the gang that saved his ass every time he got into trouble aka you plus JeongMinLixJin. You’re talking about those kids from Class 2C that are mutual friends with Changbin.

Because the moment Jisung barges into the cabin and starts babbling nonsense that you can’t comprehend (not that you can comprehend any of his shit on the daily), you know that he just came back from a get together with those sketchy dudes who managed to sneak some booze inside a shampoo bottle.

“Uhm okay, who gave Felix alcohol?” he squints his eyes hard. 

You are more than aware that Jisung is mildly smashed by the way that his cheeks are tinted with a light shade of coral, hiccupping every ten seconds and slightly more clumsy with his feet. He almost tripped over the rug at the front door if it weren’t for Hyunjin who caught him in time so that he wouldn’t break one of his precious teeth. Those painful years of constantly slurping on watery porridge after every dentist appointment to tighten his braces shouldn’t be going down the drain. 

Speaking of bland rice water, that’s all Felix has been fed with after returning to camp because he has no choice. The sickness finally caught up to him as a result of staying outside for too long while still dressed in his rain-soaked uniform. Even under the cotton comforter, he’s radiating heat on the outside but stoically shivering on the inside, his energy level is as diminished as his appetite. 

The nurse said there’s really nothing that can be done but give him some pills and let him ride it out so now Felix’s all curled up in a corner of his bed, cheeks burning flush of fever, coughing and sneezing occasionally. He refuses to be moved to a completely separate cabin because sleeping alone in a confined place knowing that the grizzly bears might be roaming outside your door is quite frightening for a junior in high school. 

“God, what makes you think I’m the batshit drunk one here?” Felix croaks, his voice more hoarse and gruff than usual because every word pains him, his vocal cords pulse in agony at each syllable. And that sentence was probably the longest thing you’ve heard from him since dinner. 

Jisung lets Hyunjin toss him onto his bed, face down, and props himself up on his forearms. “Uhh, have you checked yourself the mirror?” he hiccups, words a bit slurred, palms outstretched in a grabby motion. “Seungmin, water- ow! What the fuck was that!?” 

He rubs the side of his head while babbling incoherently like a fucking five-year-old because Seungmin decided to chuck a water bottle at him. Those years of playing baseball during retreats indeed paid off. 

“I went for the head,” Seungmin looks up from his book calmly, acting innocent. 

Jisung whines and turns to his side, watching as the water bottle rolls back towards him after coming in contact with the wall. “God, I miss Minho. You guys suck,” he takes it before sitting right up but flops himself back down when a pang of pain claws at his temple. Who even allowed him to drink?

“Didn’t he make your high school experience miserable?” Hyunjin laughs, sitting down on the corner of his bed, legs curled into his chest. 

“Hello? That was me,” Seungmin clarifies, he sounds a little offended. “He called me a nerd for studying late at the library for our finals! Our fucking finals! Do you know how insecure my freshman self was? I was so hurt!” 

You cross your arms and mumble, “He’s the same guy who treated you ice-cream after finding out you got a B in physics.”

Hyunjin hums, butting into the topic, “And he made me do fifty push-ups because I unintentionally skipped a day at practice. Our Dance Club really didn’t need a president who effortlessly snatches the Asshole of the Year Award like he’s stealing candies from a kid.”

“Please, you’re practically buddies now,” you scoff. “You always play Mario Kart and rewatch the Avatar series with him, even during midterms!”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Jisung suddenly gets on his feet, jumping up and down like a maniac. You’re highly concerned for the bed by the creaking sound that it’s making—sounds just like something straight out of a horror film. “He almost threw a knife at me!”

You’re running out of excuses to defend your stupid brother at this rate. What’s the point in trying anyway? “Han, it was a plastic knife, chill.”

Jisung crawls off his bed to approach you, pinching his thumb and index finger together before shoving them to your face. “I was this close to dying! You try having someone threaten to throw a knife at you during lunch break,” he complains like it’s the end of the world. Truth is, you’ve seen (and experienced) worse things. 

“Minho’s still my brother.”

Staring at you, Jisung looks unimpressed. “He wanted to kill me because I commented on his puffy cheeks that day.”

“He’s adopted.”

The conversation is pulled to a halt right there when Felix does a full-body groan, his head spinning and sweats starting to collect at his hairline. With his mind buzzed like he’s floating, the bickering only adds to the pressure that’s squeezing each of his functioning brain cells. In other words, it feels as though Han Jisung is a fucking hamster going on a marathon across his body, nibbling on his limbs and ears as he’s going through a hangover, his immune system going on a rampage. 

Felix doesn’t even drink. 

“That’s my call for a bedtime story.” You glare at Jisung when he clears his throat while you’re attempting to tuck Felix into bed, pressing your palm against his forehead to check his temperature. It’s not climbing anymore, he should be okay after sweating everything out. 

Hyunjin pulls his friend back onto his bed, locking his limbs in tight before he waddles around and potentially breaks one of those decorative pieces on the bookshelf. “Not to burst your ego, but I don’t think you’re sober enough to give us a good story,” he says unapologetically. 

“Puh-lease,” Jisung lets out the weirdest chuckle at that, wagging his forearm like those Japanese ceramic cat figures that are supposed to bring people good fortune; and Han Jisung is notorious for bringing people anything but good fortune. “They didn’t even have vodka, only Strongbow. That shit is too weak for me.”

You snort involuntarily, “Actually, I think you meant you’re too weak for those bottles of cider.”

“Wow, Y/N, what a snake.”

eight.

The bonfire crackles, flaring up to life when coach Kim tosses a lit matchstick into the pyramid pile of branches and woods. The flame projects long shadows of the trees all round along, swirling and curling in obscure shapes with the high schoolers that each hugs their own cup of hot cocoa, chomping on their marshmallows of choice. 

Glowing embers beneath are colored by the inferno that seems to be moving with the rhythm and melody of the song that they’re all singing along, drumming their feet and bobbing their heads simultaneously. 

“Are you guys sure you don’t want to join them?” Felix says apologetically after sneezing into a piece of tissue, his nose all red and swollen. “I can just… I don’t know, read a book or something.”

When he refers to those oddly colorful and rather bulky-looking books on the shelves, Seungmin immediately stops putting a cookie inside his mouth midway. “Those are called ‘aesthetically useless interior decoration’, Lix. Good luck trying to open those plastic blocks,” he expresses with his hands after stuffing the cookie into his mouth, chewing rather aggressively. 

Felix feels quite bad because, for all he knows, Hyunjin and Seungmin have been planning on going kayaking today and trying out volleyball tomorrow. You’re all going home in two days yet they’ve done nothing but pigging out in pure distress. “Still, it’s a summer camp, you all should be out there having fun, not stuck inside to look after me while tolerating...that,” he quietly looks over at Jisung who just exited the bathroom after splashing his face with some water. 

At least he doesn’t look crazy and homeless now. 

“How are they doing that again?” you join Hyunjin as he rests his head lazily on his forearms, staring outside from the cabin’s window like Rapunzel in an alternative universe where Flynn Rider managed to escape the tower with the crown, leaving her behind longing for civil human interactions in vain. 

“They sing..” he drawls. “And turn their heads to look at each other in the eye.”

You wave it off absentmindedly, falling on your back so now your head is hung upside down from the bed, your arms dangling midair. “Well, that sounds exhausting,” you mumble, ignoring the way that Seungmin is internally judging you. 

Hyunjin sighs, “Never one for sentiment, are you?”

“Easier to let it burn,” you answer flatly, sitting upright when blood starts rushing to your head. 

“Don’t feel bad,” Seungmin immediately forces a smile at Felix. “We’re not really into sitting with a bunch of idiots just to enjoy a mildly decent hot cocoa either way.”

Suddenly the lights go out, and Felix immediately curls himself further into the blanket, a little thrown off. Jisung’s face comes into view out of nowhere when he makes a grab for the oil lamp that no one seems to take notice of, lighting it up with a single match. “C’mon, kids, no bonfire is complete without a good ghost story,” he crosses his legs on the floor happily, still somewhat tipsy so his body is bouncing in excitement with occasional hiccups. 

Hyunjin and Seungmin exchange questionable looks before scrambling to the floor, settling themselves a few solid inches in front of the oil lamp with a sigh while you only shrug at Felix, propping your head onto your hands. Laziness is starting to hold you hostage on Hyunjin’s bed at this rate. 

Seungmin spares Jisung a slight glare, “Better not bullshit us with the same one that you heard at school-”

“No,” Jisung’s lips morph into something similar to a smirk, he looks concerningly confident for someone who’s utterly terrified after watching IT. And now he’s attempting to give his bros who are equally jumpy about everything and anything, you’re excited to see how this goes. “I heard this one from a camp counselor, true story.” You definitely don’t like the sound of that.

At first, the ghost was no more than a chill in the air, a shimmer of mist to the common eyes. Through the heavy rain and fog that seeps through people’s skin, chilling the core of their bones, it slowly came into focus. It wasn’t until the camper found refuge under a canopy of an abandoned café that it congealed into a form—a small child with brilliant round eyes, dressed in white clothing. 

For a moment, all was silent and still. It was as though the camper got hypnotized, feet planted to the ground. Then, he could hear a small lullaby in a cheerful voice. 

“Oranges and Lemons say the bells of St.Clements…” They know how that one ended. 

Suddenly someone blows out the candle, but Jisung’s voice still rings in your eardrums. “When the camper took a step back, the ghost spoke again, this time with the voice almost of a smoker and grin…” You can feel Hyunjin hop back to bed with you in a tick of a clock, holding onto you for dear life with the infrequent whimpers of fear. 

Jisung proceeds to continue, “The grin soon became a snarl, baring teeth like a wolf when it finished the lullaby…”

A muffled silence descends. And, “Have you come to play…?”

“AHHH!!” Felix lets out a petrified shriek, but what confuses you is the sound of Jisung grunting rather in pain. Seungmin sighs in disapproval, flickering the lights on while leaning back against the wall. 

And now before your eyes is a slightly traumatized, feverish Felix with clattering teeth, quivering inside his blanket. Whereas, Jisung is sprawled across the floor, hugging his poor stomach, hacking up lungs. Deserve.

“This is why you don’t give people who can high-kick jump scares, dumbass,” Seungmin comments and crouches down in front of Jisung like his knight in shiny armors, letting a bottle of ointment dangle between his fingers. “Put this on, bet it’s already bruising.”

Hyunjin releases his arms around you and walks towards the freckled boy who looks like he’s about to slip into a coma. “Lix, are you okay?” he knits his brows together, starting to feel somewhat concerned. 

Felix only waves it off with a raspy laugh, standing on wobbly legs with his blanket still wrapped around his figure. “I’m fine, I’ll just go wash my face.” Truth is, he’s anything but fine. And it doesn’t help when he accidentally has a glance of his own reflection in the body-length mirror from across the cabin—his hair is sticking to his forehead, his face is slightly more puffy than usual, and his eyebags look like he hasn’t slept in decades—he looks worse than a trash can, basically. 

“Hyunjin,” you raise a brow at your friend’s current state.

“What?”

“Catch him.”

“Huh-” Hyunjin snaps his head back when a loud thud is heard, eyes growing twice as big in sheer panic upon the sight of Felix laying on his stomach, mere inches away from his feet. “Felix!!” Your friends rush to his side while you’re too busy checking the thermometer by his nightstand. The temperature doesn’t seem to be too alarming, he should be fine after sleeping and sweating it out. But really, Felix looks more like he’s having the nap of a lifetime rather than passing out from the worst fever of the century. That doesn’t stop everyone from freaking out, unfortunately. 

Also, everyone can agree that this is the first and last storytime to ever happen.

nine.

Felix sits on the beach, eyes moving from sand to stone, from rock pools to breaking waves. He lets out a sigh, an exhale of relief when a breeze passes by him, tousling his hair as he buries his feet deeper into the primrose-colored grains. The briny aroma that exists in every fiber of air makes him feel at ease, as though unknotting all his angsty-teenager worries with grace. He feels a bit better, partially because his fever has already gone down when he shook you out of your half-asleep state at four in the morning. 

“Why?” you ask without turning your head after sensing his tense posture.

Felix looks confused, a little startled when you break the silence. “Why what?”

“Why the long face?” you unknowingly exhale too, stubbornly gazing forward. “Thinking about something?” For some reason, you’re too...scared to even spare him a small glance. This isn’t you, did his fever rub off on you or something?

To your dismay, his sudden inquiry catches you off guard. “High school is going to be over in a year, have you thought about what to do?” 

You open your mouth to protest with something along the line of he’s overthinking again and there’s still an entire year ahead to make new memories but when you’re about to utter the first word, your mouth automatically snaps itself close. It’s like you have an entire masterpiece planned out in your mind but when someone tosses you a blank canvas, you’re standing there in defeat like the biggest idiot. Felix is serious this time, you know it’s not because he’s lightheaded after riding out the fever. 

“Honestly?” you breathe out. “No, I haven’t. God, I don’t even want to think about it, the future scares me a little.”

Upon the mossed rock and vibrant horizon, comes the sun rays that are promised by the starlit sky. It makes you both a little breathless, not exchanging a single word nor moving a muscle for a while. 

Until, “Fine, it scares me a whole lot,” you confess, gaze cast downward as you hug your legs closer to your chest. “It sucks because everyone seems to have their lives together, Jisung is finally taking his interest in music seriously, Hyunjin is planning on being an actual theater kid, and Seungmin is...I don’t know, but he’s definitely onto something. Point is, everyone is already one too many steps ahead of me, I’m just..here, stuck. And I don’t feel like I have-”

“A lot of time left.” Felix finishes your sentence, prompting you to look at him this time. His delicate features shine under the cracking lights of dawn, starry eyes twinkling and lips outstretched into the smile that you absolutely adore. He has such a contagious type of smile that it makes you feel a little less dead inside whenever you see it. But your heartbeat also grows a little more ecstatic. 

A hearty chuckle. “You’re not alone, you know,” he says while not breaking away from the eye contact, this makes your throat grow dry. “I still have so much to do, so much to...say yet too little time. So yeah, don’t think about it too much, I’m never gonna leave you behind no matter what.”

You have to hold back a playful scoff at that; and to think he was the one who brought up this sappy topic. “If anything, you’re the overthinker in this relationship,” you tell him with a nudge on his rib. “But if you’ve already had my back, then you should know that I’ll always have yours too.”

Because what would you do without an overthinker like Felix? Drowning your sorrow by stress-eating in the middle of the night? Bottoming out on questionable drinks to end up like Han Jisung? Winging every single important choice that can potentially flip your life upside down in either a good or bad way? Not in a million years. He knows that you need him as much as he needs you, harsh truth but you still hate it either way.

You both don’t look forward to the future, like at all. 

You’re too apathetic and overall just a big ‘meh’ about it. You’re the type of person that goes with the flow, letting life toss you around like a ragdoll until you finally snap at some point to fight back because you know where the line between giving up and knowing that you’ve had enough is. Meanwhile, Felix is rather anxious about things. If a piece of paper with a pencil can draw out the map of his entire destiny ahead then he’ll have it finished in one night. But he’s grown out of his middle school self to know that things don’t always go as planned.

Guess if things turn out to be shit, you’ll still have him.

“Does that mean if we’re still single in our thirties, you’ll marry me like how our parents always joke about?” Felix cracks a shit-eating grin this time, one that makes your heart swell but for the most part, you wanna whack him unconscious with a pillow. 

You sneer in return, “Sure, but you’ll have to fall for me first.”

There’s a pang in Felix’s chest, it’s so loud and evident that he’s afraid you might hear it. You really didn’t have to slap him in the face with that seemingly harmless statement. “Hmm, who would even fall for a stubborn hermit crab like you?” he jokes to hide the nervousness that’s crawling upon his spine. His ears are probably bright red right now. “Although...that wouldn’t be a problem with me.” Because he’s already fallen for you, a little too hard actually.

“What does that even mean?” you only hum after questioning his statement, nothing makes sense right now since you’re getting a little sleepy because a certain someone wanted to watch the sunrise which simply lasted for about two minutes after two(ish) hours of waiting.

“I don’t know,” Felix laughs before standing up, dusting the sand off of his jeans. “You go figure it out, smartass.” With that, he runs off with his Converses dangling between his fingers, leaving you dumbfounded in the middle of the beach like a total dimwit. Slowly, within those five seconds of making eye contact with your best friend again, his words zero in on you like a wakeup call. 

Urgently grabbing your sneakers, you chase after him. “Hey- wait! GET BACK HERE!” By looks of it, you’ve probably figured it out now. It’s not like he’s trying to be subtle either.

Felix feels like he just gained strength from spewing out that indirect confession, and it gives him a tiny ray of hope that he still has his entire youth before his eyes to tell you how he really feels. Or his whole life if you don’t start resenting him for crossing the line that no one dares talk about when they have a thing for their best friend. 

Either way, as long as Felix sees your presence side by side with him at every ups and downs, he’s home. 

[aspiringauthorintraining]

Nekoma Manager: Defender of First-Years and Kenma (5/?)

With all five schools having finally arrived, the practice matches were about to begin. And as a manager, it was her duty to make sure all the boys were stretched and warm-up. Problem was, one of their new members was no where to be seen.

“Inuoka, have you seen Lev?”

The first year shook his head. “He said he was going to the bathroom, but that was thirty minutes ago.”

(Y/N) sighed, adding ‘find Lev’ to her list of things to do. That was, until a whine came from behind her. Turning around, she saw a tall boy with silver hair mope towards her languidly.

“Senpaiii~” Lev whined, clutching his forehead with one hand.

“Where have you been Lev? We’re about to start soon, and you haven’t warmed up at all,” she frowned.

“Sorry senpai. I got lost on the way to the bathroom and then I accidentally hit my head against the door frame.” The first-year rubbed his head with a wince, trying to ease the pain.

Sighing, she grabbed his hand and led him to the sideline, where the first aid kit was. “Didn’t I tell you to take a buddy with you if you go somewhere, since it’s your first time here?”

She pointed to the floor, directing him to sit down so she could treat his injury.

Lev’s eyes dropped downwards, as he hung his head at her words. “Sorry senpai,” he apologized.

With him looking a sad, baby kitten, she couldn’t find the will to maintain her disappointed look. (Y/N) simply patted his head, trying her best not to hug him. She had a weak spot for her first-years, after all.

Dabbing some alcohol on the cut on his forehead to disinfect it, she then applied the bandaid, decorated with little volleyballs. Satisfied with her work, she gave him a thumbs up, signaling she was all done.

“Thank you senpai, you’re the best!” Lev smiled, enveloping her in a hug. He scrambled up, planning to join the rest of his teammates, until an arm appeared in front of him.

“Nuh-uh. Stretch first.” (Y/N) ordered.

Lev’s shoulders dropped, combined with a pout. (Y/N) had to turn around to not give in to his pouting.

“Pouting isn’t going to get you out of this, Lev. I won’t let you play if you don’t warm-up.”

There were some things even she wouldn’t give in for the first-years. And it was better, in her opinion, for him to frown and sulk now while doing his stretches, rather than whine later about his sore muscles.

“Hai, senpai,” he relented sadly, before reluctantly starting his stretches on the sideline.

With a satisfied smile, she turned around to pick up the basket that was next to the first aid kit, which contained the team’s practice jerseys. She had made sure to wash them throughly after noticing a strange smell on the clothes.

Walking over to the where the rest of Nekoma team stood, she started to hand out the washed jerseys. Upon receiving the clothing, all the members started to sniff it cautiously.

“Ooh, senpai washed the jerseys for us!” Inuoka exclaimed, relieved at the flowery scent coming off his jersey.

Even Kenma briefly smelt his, before sighing in relief.

Noticing her curious eyes, Kai explained. “Coach Naoi washed them last time, since you were out sick.”

“But they ended up smelling even worse than before.” Yaku finished off.

“So that explains the strange smell they had!”

All the members shivered at the memory of the stink.

“Please don’t ever get sick again, senpai!” Taketora pleaded, but came out muffled due to his face being buried in his jersey. “You make them smell so nice like you!”

Yaku sighed happily, rubbing his nose against his jersey. “I normally wouldn’t agree with anything Taketora says, but he’s right. Please never get sick again, (Y/N)chan.”

The rest of the team nodded in agreement.

“Or at least tell us if you are, so we can skip practice that week.” Kuroo grinned.

“Mind repeating what you just said Kuroo?” Coach Nekomata cut in. “My ears must be getting old, because I thought I heard something about skipping practice?”

“S-sensei...” Kuroo trailed off nervously, not having expected their two coaches to overhear their conversation.

“He said that he wants (Y/N)-senpai to let us know when she’s sick, so we can all skip practice together!” Lev repeated innocently, just joining the group after having finished his warm-up.

“Hahahaha!” The coach belted out laughing as Lev was pelted in the back of the head with a ball, by Kuroo.

Kai, as vice captain, tried to reason with their coach. “Sensei, you cancelled practice that week, after the smell stunk up the whole gym,” he reminded Nekomata. “The place had to be fumigated!”

“Ah, yes. Well in that case,” Coach Nekomata rubbed his chin in deep thinking, “from here on out, practice will be cancelled if (Y/N)-san is sick.” He hummed in approval at his decision.

“I try to do something nice, and this is the thanks I get?” Coach Naoi sulked. “But I agree as well,” he quickly relented, remembering the chaos that ensued that particular day. “Anyways, we’re up against Fukurōdani for our first practice match, so get ready to play.”

“Hai!” The whole team chorused in unison.

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

“Oye, Kuroo! Ready to play against one of the top five spikers in the nation?” Bokuto taunted, walking up to the net from the other side of the court.

“I see Bokuto-san is pumped up as ever.” (Y/N) noted, the Fukurōdani captain reminding her of a certain Karasuno player, who also had limitless energy.

She stood next to the Fukurōdani managers, Yukie and Kaori, who were also third-years. Both teams frequently played against each other, whether it was practice or official matches, due to their membership in the Fukurōdani Academy group. As a result, not only were the players close to each other, but the managers were as well.

“You don’t know the half of it, (Y/N)-chan,” Yukie groaned, complaining to the Nekoma manager. “He was practically vibrating in his seat, and kept the whole bus up with his talking. I wasn’t able to get any sleep. I’m running on pure coffee right now.”

“He has the energy of ten first-year boys rolled into one owl-headed body.” Kaori added, her eyes blinking slowly from being sleep deprived.

“You know, I’ve always wondered if he styles his hair like that on purpose. Or if it just so happened to fit with the school mascot.” (Y/N) commented, watching as the both teams got into their positions.

“No one knows. It’s one of those unsolved mysteries.”

The girls laughed at Yukie’s words.

“Anyways, I guess it’s already time to start the betting then,” Yukie said, pointing out the already started match.

Whenever the two teams would have a practice match, the girls made it a tradition to bet on exactly when Bokuto’s notorious emo-phase would come out to play. Of course, they made sure the boy in question had no idea about the two, going on three, year tradition.

“Hmm, I say it’ll be the by the third time his spike gets blocked.” Kaori wagered.

“Nah, I think it won’t come out until the second set starts. He’s too hyped up right now to get down.”

“I don’t know, Yukie.” (Y/N) reasoned. “Kuroo was brushing up on owl disses during the bus ride over. And Bokuto hasn’t played against our new baby giant Lev, yet.”

“Eh, I’m too tired to think rationally right now. I’ll stand by my first guess.” Yukie responded, leaning her head against (Y/N)’s shoulder and closing her eyes.

“You’ll get hit by the ball if you fall asleep here, Yukie.” Kaori mumbled, trying to keep her eyes open.

“(Y/N)-chan will protect me. Right, (Y/N)-chan?” Yukie didn’t even wait for an answer, as she started to quietly snore.

“Ah, then please take care of us, (Y/N)-chan.” Kaori bowed, before leaning on her fellow manager to doze off.

__________

(A/N): I cross post this on AO3, but on there it's Sakura instead of (Y/N). I wrote this story with that name in mind, and just replace the name with (Y/N) whenever I post it on here. So if it’s a little weird at times, or I missed changing something, that’s probably why. But still check out my AO3 if you have a chance! It's the same handle. :) Safe readings!

[help-im-a-gay-fish]

The Birth of Sun and Moon. Part one.

Part 2 part 3, baby blues

The following in part 1 of 3 of a piece of writing about the birth/spawning of the Dark-Cream ship kids Celestial star and Luna light.

This takes place in a universe separate to @zu-is-here dark cream story and splits of somewhere around 'the price of happiness'. Any continuity errors should be accepted as being part of an alternative timeline.

Synopsis, this takes place a few days before the twins birth, it is mostly fluff and setting up head cannons and law :) hope you enjoy.

It had been about a year since Dream had accepted Cross' proposal. And it had been one of the best years they'd ever had.

Dream had wanted to take a little bit of time before talking about marriage, after everything that had happened, he needed time.

He loved Cross deeply, but he had hurt him so much that he didn't want to rush into anything. Things were slow at first.

There had been highs and lows throughout the year. Positive emotions could be very draining to Shattered, they caused weakness in him since he suppressed his negatively. This left him sometimes stuck in bed for a few days every once in a while. Luckily the negative emotions created around these periods seemed to replenish his strength. It was like a reset button.

Of course, the ideas about breaking his curse had been tossed around, normally during these bed ridden times. But these conversations were often dropped when Dream started feeling better and they got wrapped up in there love again. Not that it was a bad thing.

Dream sometimes felt like the curse was more of a blessing. If it wasn't for the corruption him and Cross wouldn't be engaged and he'd still be stuck with his aura. Maybe it was selfish of him to be happy.... But at this point in time, it didn't really matter.

Dream moved his gaze from the bedroom ceiling, to the skeleton sleeping beside him. Smiling he then looked at the bedside table, his gloves and ring sat there waiting for the morning. He sighed and sat up a bit.

Sleeping was never a vital thing that Dream had to do, but he'd found himself enjoying how it felt, even if nightmares sometimes plagued him. But this night he felt restless. There were a lot of things on his mind at the moment. There were a lot of things he'd been worrying about recently.

Cross had for the most part always been so patient. Maybe respectful was a better word.

Dream had often found himself wondering if cross ever wanted more from him. He knew that the way normal monsters reproduced was not the same way energy beings did. He had no idea how they did it, he'd never had a desire to know, but one thing he did know is that most people liked to do it for fun.

He glanced over at the skeleton beside him, wondering... Did Cross ever want to? Dream had often wondered about asking him, but had always been to frightened of the answer. He didn't even know what it was, so he had no idea if it was ever something he could bring himself to do. He cursed his naivety in these matters.

He'd never told this to cross, but cross had always seemed to have an unspoken understanding of it. As if he could read minds. Cross had never brought it up.

Dream leant over and nuzzled cross on his skull. Cross slept on.

He thought back now. A few weeks ago the two of them had experimented slightly with physical contact. Nothing to much, but just enough. Both of them had wanted to get a little closer to each other and this felt like a good way.

It had eventually lead to contact with the soul. For energy beings the soul is a very important part of their selves. It had there entire being wrapped around it. Allowing a partner to touch a soul was the very deepest of intimacy. It represented trust and deep love.

Dream may have been one of the only energy beings that still lived, but he'd always known this, even with no one to teach him. That night he'd finally allowed cross to touch his soul properly.

It had been a wonderful feeling. He'd never felt so close to anyone before. It was nice. Cross had been so gentle, it made Dream smile slightly thinking about it. For Dream it had been a very important step in there relationship. Everything had felt perfect. Why did this have to happen.

Without other energy beings or another kind of close species around him, Dream hadn't been taught how to touch souls safely. He hadn't known what it could cause. He knew now.

There was a new energy around his core. It was separate to his, and was reminiscent of his Crossy's magic. He had a bad feeling he knew what could be happening, he prayed he was wrong.

Logically, he had told himself that he was being paranoid, that this was just probably how it felt after having a partners magic touch your soul. Maybe it meant that they had soul bonded. He told himself that, that was more likely. He squashed his fears again, as he took Cross' hand.

'if what I fear truly was happening, then it would surely be more obvious then simply a new feeling of energy... Right?' He thought to himself.

"Dream?"

Dream jumped slightly and turned to Cross. He was still sleepy, but awake. Laying down, Dream replied "Sorry... Did I wake you up?"

Cross stretched, "Nah, don't worry about it"

He smiled at him "so what is my handsome husband to be still doing up? "

Dream's face dusted with a slight golden blush. "nothing" he replied. He didn't feel much like telling cross about what he was worrying about, especially since he was probably over thinking.

"I was just thinking" he said glancing away.

Sensing a little discomfort from his partner, Cross sat up. "You alright Day Dream? What were you thinking about"

Dream could hear Cross' concerned tone and he didn't like it. He knew he'd have to give him an answer fast. He glanced at his ring again.

"I was thinking about rings!" he said quickly.

"rings?"

"yes rings"

'well done dream, that made a ton of sense' He thought to himself.

"like your engagement ring?" Cross asked.

Dream quickly nodded and sat up again "y-yes, it's a beautiful ring"

Smiling wider, Cross said "Yeah, a beautiful ring for a beautiful skeleton "

Dream blushed a deeper gold this time. He really should have seen that coming.

"hey! Since when are you the one flustering me!?" he said poking is tounge out.

Cross laughed and booped Dream on the nose "Baby's mad again".

Shattered chuckled slightly, and playfully booped Cross back. To Dreams pleasure, Cross went a little purple.

Cross smirked at him "is that a challenge my love?"

Shattered simply booped him again "that's up to you Crossy".

Cross went slightly more purple, much to Dreams delight. "You're still the one most easy to fluster" he said in a slightly cockier tone.

"oh it's on Dreamy" Cross said, and before Dream could react him quickly pined him down to the bed and started kissing him all over his face.

Going a very vibrant gold, Dream kicked his legs out and giggled.

"no! Hahaha no fair! That tickles! Hahha Your evil!"

Cross simply laughed and continued to kiss him on his cheek and face before moving to his mouth.

At first Dream jumped slightly at the sudden kiss but then completely melted as Cross kissed his mouth tenderly. As much as Dream hated to admit it, he often felt weak when cross kissed him like that.

As if on que, his soul gave a twinge. To much positively, it was a recognisable feeling these days. This time though, he didn't care. He felt to good to care. This was just what he'd needed.

After a little while Dream summoned a tentacle and used it to slowly push Cross off. Finally parting the kiss.

"that's enough you" he said and he caught his breath.

"Who's the flustered one now?" Cross teased

Shattered rolled his eyes "if you wanna start a tickling contest, just remember I have these" he said, gesturing to his tentacle as he retracted it.

Cross smirked "oh no I must be in trouble for you to bring one of those out"

Dream pocked his tounge out again and stretched his back slightly as the tentacle fully retracted.

Cross laughed again, as he lay back down "your still just as adorable as ever"

He took Dreams hand in his.

"you'll forever be my cute little Dream boat, my world and my family" he said, kissing Dreams hand gently.

Dream let himself smile, as he felt his worries completely slip his mind. Cross was by his side, there was nothing to worry about.

Or was there?

*************************

OK! Here's part one! I was gonna illustrate it but @zu-is-here asked me to just post it so here you go! Maybe I'll illustrate it later. I hope everything made sense and read ok. Now a lot of this is down to my personal head cannons and ideas so I hope that's OK. Thanks for reading.

Original cross and dream belong to jakei95 and jokublog

Original shattered dream belongs to @galacii

Dark cream comic and story is by @zu-is-here

Dark cream twins belong to me

@official-darkxunshine-kids

[detectiveidiotboy]

His Time In The Commonwealth III: Deacon's Story

so as my beloved fanfiction, The Black Widow’s Waltz, comes to an end, i’ve decided that i am going to re-release the backstory chapters as their own stand-alone fic, since they read well as their own story. before that, i thought i might do a fun little thing where i release each of the companions backstories as their own post here on tumblr under the tag #his time in the commonwealth.

it is now time for part three of this little mini series i have. now that we’ve seen what happened to nick, let’s see how good ol’ deacon ended up where he is...

Deacon stood in the center of the burning remains of the Mercer Safehouse, staring at the man who set the place on fire not two hours earlier. The arsonist's back was turned, cropped black hair shining in the red-and-yellow flashes of the house fire. A woman crawled out from the debris - a synth who’d arrived just weeks before. She was shouldering a sobbing agent with cracked, bloody glasses and leg twisted backward. The man raised his rifle and gunned the two women down with an honest-to-god smile on his face.

Nate, you are one fucked up guy, Deacon thought as he stepped over the burning remains of an agent trapped under a beam.

“Deacon? Is that you?” Nate turned, eyes shining against the flames illuminating the light. “I thought I’d run into you sooner or later.”

“Yeah,” Deacon snarked, unstrapping his shotgun from his back, “I’ve been a little hard to pin down lately - Dez was always the one who assigned my ops in my downtime, but she’s been pretty distracted lately. You know, being dead ‘n all.”

“Morbid.” Nate chuckled. “I always did like your sense of humor.”

“I’ve been told I’m one hell of a comedian.”

Deacon pressed the barrel of his shotgun against Nate’s chest. The man stared at him, seeming far more interested than worried about the twelve gage of death aimed at his sternum. Nate was tough shit - but even he couldn’t survive getting all his organs blasted out by a point-blank shotgun round. At least, that was the hope Deacon clung to. “So, you wanna die here? Or is there somewhere else you want me to shoot you?”

“A surprisingly generous offer,” Nate said, lowering the gun with a finger, “but I’m afraid I have to decline. I have more important things to do than help you get some petty revenge.”

“Sorry, not happening,” Deacon cocked the gun, raising the barrel until it rested just beneath Nate’s chin. “Actually, you know what, nah - I’m not sorry at all.”

“I assumed not,” Nate said, raising his hands. “Fine, Deacon.” He said with a sigh. “If this is really how you want things to go, then shoot me - but wouldn’t you rather know why I’m doing what I’m doing?”

“Nope,” Deacon said as he blasted the fucker’s head off his body.

Except, that wasn’t entirely what happened. Nate stumbled back, almost fell over entirely, but despite the scattershot tearing through his throat just seconds before, his head was still stubbornly attached to his body. Nate laughed, slowly rolling his head forward until it was back on top of his shoulders, smiling widely. Deacon’s own vindictive smile dropped as he lowered the gun. “Shit… you really are immortal.” He said.

“That’s right,” Nate said in a sing-song voice. “Immortal and invulnerable. I’m basically the closest thing this world has to a god,”  He laughed as he took a step forward, and Deacon took one back. “Now, since your idea was a miserable failure, let’s try mine.” He said, stretching his legs on the tips of his toes and clasping his hands behind his back. “Don’t you want to hear the reason behind my supposed betrayal?”

Deacon answered Nate’s question by bashing the butt of his gun against the psychotic killer’s face. Nate, momentarily stunned, staggered to the side and Deacon was able to retreat back towards the woods that surrounded the safehouse. At the very least he could act as bait to lure Nate away from any possible survivors. It was the least he could do for them, since he was the one who brought their murderer into the fold.

All of this was Deacon’s fault; he’d accepted the risk when he brought Nate on board. Desdemona had told him it was a bad plan - hell, P.A.M had reservations about it. Deacon should have listened to the future-telling robot instead of trusting his own chronically poor judgment. It had just seemed too good to be true - a supposedly immortal killing machine who resented authority and had a major bone to pick with the Institute? It was like the Atom itself had popped down into the Commonwealth and built them a savior out of clay and nuclear ash. Deacon couldn’t have let an opportunity like that go - and really, he’d asked himself, what was the worst that could happen?

Apparently, the worst that could happen was that the Brotherhood of Steel made their little savior an offer he couldn’t refuse. Now Tom, Desdemona, Glory, P.A.M… hell even Cartington ! They were all gone. Deacon hadn’t been at the base at the time of the attack - Nate had seen to that. Told him to head over to Sanctuary for a surprise. Well, surprise! Everyone Deacon loved was dead. He didn’t know - nor did he care - why he was spared; the only thing that mattered now was putting a stop to Nate before even more lives were lost, both synth and human alike.

Deacon dodged and weaved through the trees. He could hear Nate following him not far behind. It wasn’t long before Deacon’s lungs were straining and each breath was like a stab in the chest - god dammit he was a spy , not a runner. His body was not designed for prolonged exercise. Deacon’s heart was beating in his throat by the time he was forced to slow down. He’d put some distance between him and Nate, but it wouldn’t last. Nate never exhausted, Deacon had seen evidence of that. His stamina was endless - must come standard as part of the whole ‘god among men’ package.

Deacon reached into his pocket and pressed down on a button. It was the last stealth boy he had, and it wasn’t entirely full. It gave him only a few seconds to breathe while he tried to figure out his next move. To his right there were woods, to his left… more woods, and in front of him was, as one might guess, a large expanse of woods. Deacon wasn’t nearly as familiar as he needed to be with this part of the Commonwealth, his basic mental map was insufficient for a midnight life-or-death sprint.

He had less than ten seconds left on the stealth boy. Deacon could hear Nate closing in, so he did the only thing he could think of and backed himself up against the bark of an irradiated tree. He pressed his lips together firmly as Nate wove through the clearing, head swinging back and forth like an attack dog. It was as if he was tracking Deacon down by the scent of his fear. Again, considering Nate's otherworldly nature, not entirely out of the realm of possibility.

“I know you’re here,” Nate said, a manic laugh following the words. He drew a silenced 10mm pistol from his jacket pocket, showing it off to the seemingly-empty clearing. “Recognize this, D?” He said. Deacon did - it was Tommy’s gun, Deliverer . The very same handgun that Deacon had gifted Nate on his official entry to the Railroad. “Seems poetic, don’t it? Whispers died hiding in the shadows, and now I’m gonna kill you while you’re curled up with a Stealth Boy in your pocket.”

Deacon lunged for Nate just as the effects of the stealth device wore off. He caught the man off guard, at least, wrapping both arms around him in a bearhug of death and tackling him to the ground. Deacon had no idea how he was going to kill his target if even a point-blank shot to the neck wasn’t enough to do it, but at the very least he was going to make Nate suffer .

Deacon grabbed Nate’s arm and yanked, using his foot to pin down the man’s back and dislocate the appendage with a swift movement. Nate choked on a cry - it was the first time Deacon had even seen the man externally express pain. Maybe it was the first time he’d ever been hurt - good. Deacon slammed the heel of his boot into the back of Nate’s head, aiming for the spine. Nate’s good hand darted up, snatching Deacon by the ankle and pulling him to the ground.

Suddenly, their positions were reversed, and Nate was on top of Deacon, pilling him down with the gun pressed to Deacon’s cheek. The dislocated arm was already back into place, its hand closed around Deacon’s neck and choking him. Deacon clawed at the fingers, trying to pry them off. Nate was unbelievably strong - even with how thin and nimble his fingers appeared they were perfectly capable of crushing Deacon’s windpipe.

“Tsk, how disappointing,” Nate muttered, probably to himself. Deacon snarled as the 10mm dug into his flesh. “I really did hope I would have a chance with you. You have such a pretty face.” Deacon felt the silenced barrel trail down his cheek and press against his left breast, “be a shame to ruin it.”

Six silenced shots rang out. Deacon seized as he felt the bullets slide through him, tearing his heart to ribbons. The delicate organ came to a spasming, sudden stop in his chest, and before Deacon realized what had happened he was dead.

Once the spy had stopped moving, Nate put the gun back into his pocket. Deacon's fists relaxed and fell away from the hand still clutching his throat. Nate's fingers lingered on the bruises he’d put on Deacon’s neck, savoring the feel of indents on the other’s flesh. Nate reached up and gently removed the sunglasses from the dead man’s face, folding them up and putting them in his pocket. “I never did understand how you could see out of these things when it was dark.”

Deacon’s eyes stared back at him, expression still caught between rage, terror, and agony. Nate frowned, reaching over to shut Deacon’s eyes for him. “Pity. You really were cute.” Nate leaned over and pressed a kiss to Deacon’s still warm cheek, then stood to leave.

Seconds after his heartbeat could no longer be detected, the auto-stimpack anklet Deacon was wearing deployed. There was no blood flow to carry the medicine through his system, but through the power of osmosis, defusion, and several other pre-war science words Deacon didn’t understand, the contents of a dozen stimpacks made it to the shredded remains of his heart. Veins reconstructed themselves, weaving together tissue and cells to produce a mass of blood vessels that would just barely manage to function as a pump. Five minutes after the drugs did their best to fix a literal broken heart, the taser went off, sending waves of electricity through the corpse of one Johnathan Deacon and starting up his pitiful excuse for a new heart.

The first breath Deacon took after dying was both the single best, and most painful breath of his entire life. The bright lights and sense of calm that death had brought him were replaced with an agony that the words ‘living hell’ didn’t even begin to touch. He couldn’t even scream, the pain in his chest consuming him so completely that all that was left were small, gasping whimpers as he curled onto his side and clawed at himself.

Every muscle burned as his body worked to repair the damage of going several minutes without breathing along with all the other things that were wrong with him. Nearly half a gallon of blood was misplaced in him, and there were still at least three of the six bullets still somewhere inside him pressed up against his recently revived nerves. Deacon’s vision went black and every muscle in his body was tensed. Part of him wondered how long this would last before he died again because there was no way he could be in this much pain without something being vitally wrong with him. The other, much larger part, trusted his friends’ genius and reminded him to wait the pain out.

“So, you guys want me to wear this thing?” Deacon said, holding up the ankle brace that had been given to him by Tom and Carrington. “Like, on my person?”

“Is something wrong with the design?” Tinker Tom asked, genuinely concerned.

“It’s kind of a fashion disaster,” Deacon said, fidgeting with the thick, untreated leather that made up the strap.

“It is a highly advanced revival device, not a fashion statement.” Dr. Carrington said with a roll of his eyes. “Since when have you cared about your appearance anyways?”

“Hey, my appearance is my life,” Deacon countered. “You should know - you’ve done, like, at least three of my face jobs.”

“Four,” Carrington corrected.

“It’s meant to be worn under your clothes anyways,” Tinker Tom said. “The design was my idea - Carrington’s work here is nothing short of genius, but if we wanted any practical use for this thing with our field agents we needed something easily concealed.”

“Easily concealed, right,” Deacon said as he snapped the brace around his leg. “Unless I want to wear shorts. Man, there goes my summer plans.”

“Would you at least try to take this seriously?” Carrington snapped. “This is just a prototype, but if we can verify that it works it could save the lives of countless agents. Unfortunately, the only way to test it is for one of our agents to become mortally wounded while wearing it.”

“And so you’re giving it to me? Gosh, guys, I’m honored, really.” Deacon placed a hand to his heart. “Voted most likely to die on a mission by his peers.”

“You are the one Dez assigns to the most dangerous operations,” Tinker Tom said with a shrug. “Don’t take it too personally. If anything, it means we want you around the most.”

Deacon couldn’t admit it, but that did make him feel a little warm in the chest area, but he and ‘genuine emotions’ hadn’t seen eye-to-eye in years, so Deacon gave his co-conspirators a wink and a smile and said, “Alright, but don’t expect me to run head-first into danger just to give you guys some data. If this thing actually works like you say it will, I’ll buy the first round of the night when I get back to the land of the living.”

“Hmfph,” Carrington huffed, predictably. Then, less predictably, he smiled and said. “I’ll hold you to that, you know.”

Deacon laughed as he came down from the high of agony that was recovering from a mortal chest wound, the sound pitiful and weak. The worst of the pain wasn't done yet, he could tell, this was just a short reprieve while his body geared up to continue its tantrum. “Carrington, you crazy bastard,” He muttered against the blood-soaked grass. “When I get to hell, remind me to buy you that drink.”

Deacon laughed and sobbed and spasmed until the sun was high in the sky.

[casualotptrash]

Fixes to the Persona Series

Oh boy I hope you all are ready to talk about this for the hundredth time!

My recent tirade about the FES vs Portable discussion started to make me think about what I think could be done in the next coming installments of the series to make it either feel a bit more fresh or just as an overall improvement. Now, I know many of the things I’m about to say have been said time and time again, but...this is my post so I’m going to give my opinion on this :)

Enjoy and feel free to vent with me about your biggest gripes with the series, because I’m always ready for a salt-fest.

(This post will pretty much have any spoilers about Persona 3, 4, and 5 (including Royal) so beware if you haven’t finished those)

To clarify right off the bat, anything I don’t mention in here as something I would fix I either don’t think it is a problem or I just happened to forget it.

1. Player Gender Options

(Royal Spoilers)

Starting off with a great one, I think that an improvement to the series would be to allow an option between a male and a female MC. I don’t think this choice would affect the story in Persona 3 or 4 very much (and we’ve seen that with Persona 3), but I have imagined and seen so many fanfics about how it would actually be a really interesting twist for Persona 5. For most of the story it probably wouldn’t matter too much, but it could impact the first palace so much. The first palace/story arc is already one of the best arcs in the game, so imagine if the player could relate to Ann and Shiho on an even deeper level? To be clear, I’m not saying the player has to be sexually assaulted or something, but I imagine Kamoshida would at least treat the player more like Ann rather than just a delinquent nuisance.

Also, and this just came to mind, but picture this: in the third semester Maruki actualizes things that he thinks will make others happy. Obviously, Joker and Akechi are against this. In the game itself there are a lot of clues to point that Joker does care about Akechi, and does want to see him again, but in the end they both agree that they need to fight for the real world that they worked for, not for a fake reality. If Joker was a female, they could still go the route of doing this (especially if romancing Akechi was an option? Or they just hint at them having feelings but Akechi doesn’t want to commit because he’s a self-loathing boi who needs to work on himself first).

Alternatively...what about a badass narrative of a girl, in a powerful position as the leader of the Phantom Thieves, fighting against a man who believes he knows what’s best for her and tries to appease her by just bringing back Akechi? Kinda like a “Yeah fuck what you did, you just need Akechi/a man and he’ll make you happy” type of thing. Obviously this would all be subtle, because I do think Maruki has good intentions, but he also blames himself for all of the hard things Rumi has gone through and may internalize that as women needing a “strong man” to protect them. Of course this might seem too preachy for people, but I thought it was an interesting idea to run with and that some people could relate to the whole “Woman trying to think and do things for themselves? Nah just sit in your little fake world and be happy, thanks.”

(Sidenote, Sae would be such a good role model...after her change of heart of course. You crush it girl.)

However, I do understand that this could be a lot of extra work, especially when the game is so long and tedious. That’s why I would also be fine with the strategy of “switching off” per say. By that I mean if Persona 5 has a male MC, then Persona 6 would have a female MC, and if a 7th game was made (in 2040 or whatever) then it could go back to a male. This would eliminate the issue of having to record all the voice lines twice or any other extra work that would come with having to make both genders an option. Honestly I know this option doesn’t matter too much to people, they just want an MC who is either a self-insert or actually a character (more on that later), but I do think it would be a very nice inclusion especially for the female fans of the game. It kind of sucks that three of the most popular games in the series all have male protags, and the female protag who was introduced often gets shafted for very dumb reasons. (Oh no, you have the option to romance a kid that most people don’t even choose or like, that means she’s a p*do! :I I know this comment is normally a joke but seriously it’s not funny).

2. Setting of the game (not transfer but also maybe involve the other games?)

(Spoilers for the Arena games and Persona 5/Royal)

So there are two main points to this suggestion: where the game takes place and how it relates to the other games.

As we all know, the three latest entries in the mainline Persona series have all followed a certain trend. They are all high schoolers, who transfer to a town, and know basically no one there. This formula has been repeated for the last three games, and while they are still great games, I think this trend needs to change. Any amount of switching this up would be better than nothing in my opinion. For example, the MC could be a new college student who goes to a new place for college (if they wanted the MC to move somewhere), and there meets the party members who are a mix of people who also don’t know the area (new to the college) and those who do know the area/some people there. This would appease people who have been really wanting an MC to not be a high schooler, while also giving the feel of meeting new people and seeing a new place.

On the other hand, the next game could take place in the MC’s home town, where plot stuff happens and they connect more to the people they already knew (aka party members) to solve the plot stuff. They could be in high school or college, either I think would work, but it would appease people who don’t just want to be a transfer student each time and also have some connection to the characters prior to the game. However, this would be difficult to do given the current “flow” that the games have, that is that the MC doesn’t know anything and has to ask a million questions. It would be very strange to go up to someone you have known most of your life and ask them a basic question, which is why that style of storytelling(?) would not fit well with this and other methods would need to be used.

Now, for the second point, I understand that they don’t make strong connections to the other games because they want each game to be able to be played as a stand-alone, and not to hold people back by forcing them to play the other games to understand this. Makes sense, but usually what happens is that people play one game in the series and then try another game, if they really like the one they started with. After playing through the ones they want to, and if they like them, then there is an appreciation for the series as a whole. Of course Atlus sneaks in little references here and there, like having the P4 gang go to Iwatodai or some TV news announcements on P5 that allude to Adachi and other characters, but those cant always cut it. One of the biggest letdowns I would come to know is the fact that the Shadow Operatives are not mentioned at all, outside of those small references, in P5.

Persona 5 literally has the PT’s broadcasting all of their heists, and includes major government officials like Shido. There are also the mental shutdowns/psychotic breakdowns, which also have people confused, along with how the PT’s steal hearts in the first place. I don’t know about you all, but this seems like the perfect opportunity to get the Shadow Operatives involved. This is like...literally what they were made for? Investigating persona/shadow activity and such, and we already know that the PT’s deeds reached at least Hawaii so it would be strange for the SO’s to have not heard anything. There are headcanons that they were blocked by Shido or something, which is pretty interesting to think about/develop, but it was only thought up to make an excuse for why they aren’t there. Persona 5 introduced a lot of people to the story, so yeah some people would probably be very confused about who the SO’s are and stuff, but it could payoff in the long run for long-time fans and those who play the other games after.

Depending on the story of P6, I don’t think it would be a bad idea to start including casts from the other games into newer ones...especially when each game introduces 8-9 new characters per game, and those games usually get made into spin-offs that include the characters made in the previous games! Counting only the characters introduced in the previous games (3-5), Persona Q2 has 33 characters (11 P3, 10 P5, 10 P4, and 2 P3P, this includes the velvet room assistants for each respective game). That’s a ton! Sure, having new characters each time is part of the fun, but I believe there is definitely a way to split them up. I don’t think it would be too much of an issue to have a smaller party member group (you can only have 4 fight at a time anyway), that way there is still the enjoyment of seeing new characters, while also filling up some of those spots with preexisting ones.

3. Characterization

This kind of piggybacks off of the second point, but personally I think they need to stop with the self-insert protags. First, like I mentioned earlier, it kind of messes up the “flow” of the game since they have to pretend that the character doesn’t know anything because the player doesn’t know anything (yet). For example, how many times did the option to say “Probation?” or “Expelled?” or something like that come up as a dialogue choice in P5? Too often, in my opinion. I assume anyone over the age of 15 would probably know what those things mean, but in case anyone doesn’t they have to make it an option to say.

Adding onto this, it also seems like people start to like the characters a whole lot more when spinoffs or movies/animations come out that really expand on the character, because in those games/mediums the player is taken out of the self-insert role. I would say out of the three games, the Persona 3 protags have the most characterization in game through their dialogue. I haven’t watched the movies, but I heard it fleshes the MC out a lot more. In Persona 4...well, I see what they’re going for but I also feel like Yu has the personality of a cardboard box. The animations definitely helped out this one, as did Arena, and I’ve seen other people agree that they liked Yu a lot more after playing/watching those things.

As for Persona 5, I think they tried to give Joker some characterization (and oddly enough “Joker” has a lot more to him than Akira/Ren, but he still fell more on the side of self-insert. P5 the animation is...of questionable quality, but I think Xander did a good job in the Dub (which is the one I watched) in trying to make him feel more like a human being. I haven’t played Strikers, but I assume it goes more on the route of P5 because you’re still controlling Joker. Oddly enough, I feel like the dancing game gave him the most characterization? Call me crazy, but his dance moves and voice lines just ooze of his suave, friendly, and supportive attitude. I wish that they took whatever those voice lines embodied and just put them into the game, because I would like Joker a lot more than I already do (which, to be clear, I do still like him a lot).

Although this doesn’t have much to do with the characterization, it would also be nice if Atlus could just put the “canon name” in the game while also still having the option to choose your own name. Again, this might add a little more work but maybe if someone chose the “canon” option then their name could be spoken in voice lines, but if they don’t then the names would be left out (except for text) like usual. Honestly this is mostly up to personal preference because I like some of the “not canon” names more so I would want to use those if I could, but I also don’t like having the characters just randomly cut off in the end of sentences when they’re saying your name. Just kind of breaks immersion, which is probably why I really like Joker because at least they say “Joker” quite a bit.

(Little rant, but why do the PT’s get like two group names? At first Morgana defaults to “The Phantom Thieves of Hearts” but then when you get to choose the name of your team, that name is what shows up instead. However, everyone still calls you the “Phantom Thieves” and the gang refers to themselves as that too! I get naming the group is kind of cool, but I would have preferred if they were just called The Phantom Thieves (of Hearts) and that way their name could be spoken in dialogue too.)

4. Choices matter...please? (romance and regular dialogue)

This might be easy or difficult to implement, I’m not so sure because I’m not a game developer, but I really wish choices mattered more in this game. I feel like most of these suggestions (especially later on down the list) are just little things that could be added to the game that would really amp it up, and this is one of them.

When I talk about choices mattering, I do not mean that dialogue should be so open that there are branching paths and that your choices affect the story. What I mean is that you could choose two different options and not get the same exact answer. I get that this isn’t always the case, but when it is it feels very strange. In this same vein of things, please stop with the illusion of choice because everyone sees right through it. I didn’t really see this as much in P3, and I still need to finish P4, but it was definitely apparent with P5. I felt that so many times in the game there were two options that were just “Option A” or “Synonym for Option A” as the choices.

Along the same lines, I think it would be great if romance choices were actually acknowledged. Again, there is a little of this in P3 and P4 where some party members comment on your relation to the other party members (Ex. Junpei saying to take care of Fuuka if you date, Yukari stating that Akihiko probably wouldn’t want FeMC going on a group date if they’re dating, and Yosuke coming to assumptions about who Yu spends the summer festival with), but they are very few and far between. I also saw no evidence of this at all in P5, which was pretty disappointing. In fact, in Persona 5 Royal if you are dating Ann and go on the Christmas Date with her, she makes some comment about not wanting the others to find out about them. Like...girl, considering someone can finish Ann’s social link as early as June or so on NG+ I’m pretty sure your friend group would notice if you’ve been dating for 6 months?? I know that romance is definitely not the focus of the game, but if you’re going to include it why is it shoved into the farthest corner and never touched?

Don’t get me wrong, it is cute to see the romances in the game play out and such, but on the same hand I can see how much better it could be. In reality it kind of sucks to romance someone in the Persona games because no one acknowledges it, and you only get like 3-4 small scenes in each game to spend with them (beach in P5, festival in all, Christmas in all, valentines except for 3, White Day in P5R). Just imagine if you could take a walk in Kyoto with whoever you romanced, or were able to take your partner to the Jazz Jin in P5R and they would get like special date dialogue or something? Very very small additions, but it would go a long way in making the romances feel a bit more connected.

5. LGBT Romances

I went into this in some detail in Part 3 of my FES vs Portable debate post, so I to save your eyes from reading more I’ll just quickly say that Atlus definitely needs to add in more LGBT romance options because it’s ridiculous at this point. The fact that you can’t romance any guy (because all of the MC’s are male, this is not including the FeMC stuff because that’s not typical in the Persona series) but can have a whole harem (despite what they may do to you) is just ridiculous. They’d rather let you date a fully-fledged adult than someone of the same gender.

Also they’re cowards for scrapping the Yosuke romance and that’s that :)

6. Fixing Social Links

Link to the stand-alone post about this section.

I literally was going to include this in this post, but this section alone (which I knew was going to be the biggest) was almost as large (a few hundred words off) than everything prior to this point put together. I’ll make a separate post with just this section soon, but this criticism of mine can basically be boiled down into the fact that the main growth of a character should happen outside of their social link in order to avoid tonal whiplash in the story, and that this will fix the problem of some characters feeling “one-note” if you do not do their social links/confidants. Essentially, go back to the P3 method.

However, something that needs to be fixed for all of the games is that you shouldn’t only get social link points for saying what the person wants to hear. I get the train of thought that if you say what they want to hear they will like you more, but that’s not how real friendships work? Obviously you shouldn’t be saying something that offends them and think it will raise your points, but sometimes people just need to hear things?

I can think of three standout examples: Nozomi in P3 (Gourmet King), Mishima in P5, and Shinya in P5. Nozomi’s link is a hot mess in of itself, but it was very frustrating to at one point just be like “Hey can you chill?” when he’s trying to induct you into a scam/cult or whatever, and it reverses the social link. Like ok buddy fuck you too, I was just trying to say no and that you need to stop scamming people?? For Mishima in P5 (I’ll go more in depth on him in a later post), it’s just kind of strange that you can clearly see him starting to obsess about the PT’s but you can’t really tell him he needs to stop until the social link demands it. Even then, the only way to get points is pretty much to go “Wow Mishima, you’re the best! You’re the reason we exist! We love you!!!” and it just feels kind of wrong. Shinya’s is very much along the same line as that, except you basically have to do something even worse and encourage him to keep being a bully? Thankfully P5 doesn’t reverse confidants, but I probably would have done so with Shinya because I kept telling him he shouldn’t bully others until I realized how to get points with him. It just feels wrong to encourage such behavior until the character suddenly realizes they’ve been acting wrong. No shit, I’ve been trying to say that.

I think social links need quite the fix to them, but this is definitely one of them. Strong, real relationships are not just built upon telling the other person what they want to hear.

7. Have Characters Hang Out

This is mostly a suggestion based off of P5′s downfall in this aspect. I think that P3 and P4 did a good job at showing the characters hang out in other aspects, or hang out separately outside of the MC. P4 had a lot of good group hangouts, but not many scenes without the MC. P3 had the opposite where members kind of hung out together a bit, but also showed or mentioned them hanging out without the MC. However, P5 didn’t have much for the group hangouts and also I can’t really recall a single scene of the party members hanging out outside of the MC.

Along with all of the problems I mentioned earlier with the cardboard cut-out personalities, I feel that this contributed to P5′s group feeling a bit less cohesive. Obviously when they all hung out they acted like a real group of friends, but it’s hard to see it as legitimate when 95% of their hangouts are just meetings for the Phantom Thief stuff. The only times they hang out outside of the PT stuff is the TV station, the fireworks festival, helping Futaba + the beach trip, and the culture festival. Like I said, I can’t recall them hanging out together outside of being with the MC/PT business, although I could have missed some stray text message if one was mentioned.

In this aspect, P5 feels like a small step down from P3 and a huge step down from P4. I think some of the events in P4 are a bit unnecessarily long, but at least they go through the effort of showing that the group is also a real friend group, not just people trying to solve the murder. Strikers may be a step up from P5, but I haven’t played it yet so I can’t judge that.

Also bring back school trips to prior locations of Persona games. Imagine P5 group going to Inaba and it turns out this is the small country town that Joker came from? And they sprinkle in references to P4? *chefs kiss*.

8. Remove/Change Certain Tropes

(Spoilers for the babe hunts, stupid ass hot springs scenes, and Ryuji abuse after certain palace)

By that spoiler tag, you can probably tell that this is the category I’m most passionate about. I can deal with social links feeling a bit disconnected. I can deal with the MC being a self-insert. What I cant deal with anymore? These. Dumb. Ass. Scenes.

Let me explain (insert Sojiro voice here)

Every game has three main tropes. One, the babe hunt scenes. Two, the hot springs scenes. Three, one character being dunked on by everyone else. I’ll go through each, scream about my feelings about them, and why they need to change.

First, the babe hunt scenes. I don’t have much of a problem with this trope to be honest, I just think it could be done better in some games. I actually think the one in P3 was quite funny, because the group treated it like an “operation” which added a bit to humor. Truth be told, I was just a bit disappointed in P3P FeMC route when you didn’t have your own version of the “babe hunt” thing. I know Yukari and Mitsuru aren’t the types to go hunt for boys, but perhaps the MC could have suggested it as a fun idea. In P4, this scene happens in Okina and largely remains the same as the P3 formula, but I think it lacks just a bit of the humor that the P3 one had. Lastly, in P5 this scene happens during the beach trip but compared to the others it’s pretty...lackluster?

It shows a montage of Joker, Ryuji, and Yusuke talking to girls but no actual dialogue goes on. After talking to three or so, Yusuke disappears and this is when Joker and Ryuji meet the two “flamboyant” men again. This time, the men either chase them down or call after them (?) depending on if you’re playing Vanilla or Royal. I don’t like how they use these men in the first place, but on top of that it kind of takes the “babe hunt” out of “babe hunt” if you don’t actually...hunt for babes? Like no actual dialogue is spoken when trying to convince the girls, which was most of the fun in the other scenes. You don’t even have free reign to walk around at the beach, and the scene is formatted in a more cutscene type of way.  It just makes P5′s babe hunt fall flat in many ways, and overall I finished the scene with a strong “meh.” The only good things about this was watching Makoto and Ann defend themselves and Yusuke with the lobsters.

Now for the hot springs scenes....hoo boy.

Simply put, in my opinion, these scenes suck ass in almost all of the games. P3 is the least egregious in my opinion, for a couple reasons. First is that it shows that Junpei and Ryoji were kind of trying to peep on the girls, and Akihiko and MC were just dragged into it. They have some funny dialogue, and in FES and Portable they even included the option to try and evade the girls. I found the little evade minigame to be really fun, even though every time I can’t help but fail because I want to say “It was a cat!” I find it interesting that there is the option for the men to get off scott-free, and that their dialogue after the trip is over changes slightly because of this.

On the FeMC side, I also find it fun that you have the reverse of the minigame and actually seek out the boys. My only letdown with this entire scene is if the boys are caught. I get it, it’s supposed to be funny with Mitsuru executing them and such, but as a reasonable person with a brain it seems really dumb to me that Mitsuru would just punish all of them when it’s just Ryoji and Junpei’s fault? This is nothing against Mitsuru, but her actions just seem so...exaggerated for some reason? Like Mitsuru is usually smart, and even if she is embarrassed I don’t get why she would punish innocent party members. A huge disappointment for me was that the FeMC isn’t able to stop Mitsuru from doing this either. Not even a choice to try and encourage Mitsuru or discourage her (so both options would be available). You just kinda sit there and watch, even after Akihiko say “It was a misunderstanding!” or something. For me it was especially strange because MC was dating Akihiko at that point, so why wouldn’t I try to hear him out? Just struck me as kind of dumb.

If I thought that was dumb, P4 and P5 were out to really make me roll my eyes and sigh in disappointment. Unlike P3, which has most of the scene being pretty good besides the very end where Mitsuru punishes the boys, the P4 and P5 scenes are all bad. This is not the first time anyone has said it, and won’t be the last, but they aren’t funny scenes in the slightest.

In P4, it’s actually the girl’s fault that they’re in the hot springs when the boys walk in. They stayed over their allotted time and into the time when boys are supposed to be in there. So what do they do? Get flustered, yell at them, and throw buckets at the group. Oh, and they don’t listen to the boy’s protests at all. Really.

Who thought this was a good idea?? The girls even realize after that they were in the wrong, say they should apologize, but I don’t think they ever show a scene of them apologizing after. This whole scene, like the hot springs ones in general, are just exaggerated (ie. throwing masses of buckets) to be funny, but they really fail in my opinion. It just serves to make the player kinda angry (since they’re usually on the receiving end) and make the girls look wildly unrealistic and dumb. I have never really thought that needless physical abuse is funny, so these scenes are just the bane of my existence apparently.

There actually isn’t a hot springs scene in P5, but they did add one in Strikers.

If they wanted to still do these scenes, maybe they could switch from making it “just beat up the boys” into something else. For example, the girls could try to peep, or walk in on the boys. Equality y’all, sometimes girls can do those things too (but still don’t beat them up. Just don’t beat anyone up). If none of that happens, or maybe that’s how the scene ends, the rest of the scene could just be a chill, relaxing scene between those involved. Essentially, how the scenes go before the whole “lets beat up the boys” thing comes in.

Lastly, on basically the same vein as why I don’t like the hot springs scenes, I’m starting to get real sick of the “let’s shit on this one character” trope. In Persona 3, I don’t think it’s that bad because they kind of do it with Junpei but they also give him a lot of character development, and eventually the sort of hostile shitting on him turns into just gentle teasing.

For P4 I still don’t think it is too bad, because Yosuke is kind of the one being shit on but he also does the same to the other people in the group? I suppose the only thing that really sticks out to me is how Teddie abuses Yosuke’s wallet (making him buy/pay for a lot of stuff with his hard earned cash), but I also don’t like Teddie at all in the first place so I may be biased about him. Oh well, he still shouldn’t do those things and I don’t really find it funny but to each their own.

However...this problem walks and rocks the fucking runway in Persona 5. Namely, this happens with Ryuji. The most obvious aggressor in this is Morgana, because him and Ryuji butt heads so often, but the other thieves kind of do it as well. Obviously they don’t do this all the time, but it’s extremely frustrating when they do. Morgana getting into arguments with Ryuji at the drop of a hat get old very quick, and the other thieves poking a bit of fun about how dumb Ryuji can be is also not that riveting. Despite all of that, the scene that highlights all of this is the scene after Shido’s palace collapse.

You all knew this was coming, but I couldn’t resist talking about it. The scene is so tone deaf in so many ways that it takes away all of the emotional impact that they were trying to build. Even the first time I watched this scene, in which I didn’t think they would kill off Ryuji, I could still sympathize with the group being concerned about him. Then when he shows up they...just beat him up and leave him unconscious next to a pole while they walk away? Wow.

On all subsequent playthroughs I just skip this scene, but I truly cannot understand why that was the angle they went for. Were they trying to insert some humor right after an emotional scene? That can be done in certain cases, but....why??? It’s so unbelievable it’s almost laughable. It’s not even like the bath scene where the the girls think the guys are trying to peep on them. It’s simply because he survived which I assume is what they wanted!

“Oh no you made us thought you were dead (even though he didn’t because he couldn’t control any of this), we’re going to beat you up!” Now you just make the characters look like irrational idiots.

Seriously Atlus, stop doing this. In most cases it just serves to make the player kind of frustrated, and in this case it it literally takes all of the emotional weight out of the scene and makes me think worse of the entire female cast. Please. Stop.

Well that’s the end of that. I don’t think I said anything too revolutionary, although my opinions about the social links and characterization might get me some flak. I just want the characters to be more than one personality trait... This was a really long post again, so kudos to whoever made it to this point!

Next time, on Dragon Ball Z Casual’s pointless posts: something Persona related :)

[angelsinflight]

Axel’s Story

[Copied from the Kingdom Hearts Character Files official release.] [Master Post here ] [Info, Photos, and thoughts under the cut.] (Apologies in advance if the formatting on this one is weird)

“I Will Not Forget You”

You will need to follow your memories. Trust what you remember and seek what you forget. Then you will find someone very special. Our most precious memories lie so deep within our hearts that they’re out of reach.

“This yours?”

    I’d picked up an odd-shaped sword made of wood. Now I know that the wooden sword was probably made to look like a Keyblade, but back then, I didn’t know anything about Keyblades, so I had no idea.

“Lea, we don’t have time for this.”

Nearby, Isa nagged me to hurry up.

“Lighten up, Isa. It’ll only take a sec.”

You’ve really been the kind of guy with no flexibility and no sense of fun since way back then, huh?

“You still play with toy swords? That’s cute.”

After I handed it to the golden-haired kid who seemed to be its owner, I took out my disks. 

“Now this right here-- tada! Whaddaya think?”

These bright red disks were my favorite.

“Not a whole lot.” “You’re just jealous. I’m Lea,” I quickly retorted, and then bent at the waist, pointing to my own head and bringing my face closer to his all at once.

“Got it memorized? What’s your name?” “Ventus.”

“Okay, Ventus. Let’s fight!”

That was when we first met. In the end, I lost. I mean, if I think about it objectively, there’s no way I could have beaten a Keyblade wielder back then.

“I’ll see ya when I see ya. After all, we’re friends now. Get it memorized.”

And then we parted ways. Isa spoke to me in an exasperated tone.

“What is it with you and picking up stray puppies?” “I want everybody I meet to remember me. Inside people’s memories, I can live forever.”

A wry smile appeared on Isa’s face.

“I know I won’t forget you. Believe me, I try all the time.”

Back then, we didn’t know that things could disappear from our memories. Memories are vague, and sometimes they’re rewritten.

Since then, I haven’t seen Ventus even once.

The setting sun was red again today. When my daily training was done, I always watched the sunset from the top of a hill in the Secret Forest.

“Bet you don’t know why the sun sets red. You see, light is made up of lots of colors. And out of all those colors, red is the one that travels the farthest.”

“Like I asked! Know-it-all.”

I remember telling Roxas this back then, at the top of the clock tower on day 255. But I just know there was something else important to me back then, and I can’t remember what. I know I need to remember something, but I don’t know what that something is.

The setting sun stung my eyes. Lately, I’d been just a bit of a crybaby. Could it be because the upside-down tears had disappeared from my face?

“Hey, Axel!”

I turned my head at the voice calling from behind me. Kairi was standing there in new clothes.

“Cut your hair, too.” “Mm-hmm. So, you gonna try yours on?” “Uhh. . . I dunno. Maybe later.”

After answering, I gazed at the sunset again.

“But you always wear the same thing.”

It was true. I’d been wearing this black coat for a long time. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. This is how you pick me out of a crowd. I make myself easy to remember.” “How thoughtful.” “Nah, not really. . .” Kairi’s comment made me embarrassed, just a bit. She sat down next to me and watched the sunset. “Our training’s almost finished.” “Yeah. . .” “Somewhere inside me is Naminé. If we can free Roxas, we can free her too.” “I guess so.” After that, we talked about all kinds of things. I even talked to her about Ventus. I’d never told anyone about him before. I was afraid that if I did tell someone, I’d never see them again, just like Ventus. So I’d told no one. “Oh yeah. He’s got you very memorized.” Kairi jokingly mimicked my favorite pose. It made me laugh. “Now that we’re going back, I’m worried about everything.” “Well, you don’t have to worry alone anymore, Axel.” The sun continued to set. Just like back then.

——————————————————————————————————–  Just uploading scans of the character files pages is making it hard to read, so I’m trying to copy things over for my friends abroad who aren’t able to get ahold of the book, as well as hopefully making them more accessible to people who use screen readers. This one... is the most disappointing so far. It’s just a nearly word for word retelling of short scenes from BBS, Days, and KH3 with minimal commentary. The first bit is interesting though.

Since it’s in this photo:  Axel’s Keyblade

Flame Liberator The Keyblade the Lea made appear. Everyone around him is surprised that he became a Keyblade Wielder so quickly. It’s clear that the design of the Flame Liberator takes after the weapons he used when he was Axel, the Eternal Flames

[ryqoshay]

Promptober-2021: Putting on Hairs: Mr. Gnashtooth

Primary Pairing: YohaRiko Words: 691 Rating: G AU: Monster, Angelic, Demonic Prompt: Shadows Parent Fic: Putting on Hairs Timeline: ???

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Author’s Note: This is my Oct 1st entry for a Promptober-2021 event in the Idol Fanfic Heaven Discord server.

For anyone who hasn’t read their introduction chapter in my fic, Putting on Hairs, Riko is a demon and Yohane is a fallen angel. They meet while working at a theater run by Umi and Dia where Riko plays piano in the orchestra pit and Yohane crafts costumes with Kotori. Phobetor is Yohane’s famliar.

Summary: Riko awakens to something strange in Yoshiko’s room.

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Riko stirred.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

She opened her eyes to pitch darkness.

Why?

Oh, right, she was in Yoshiko’s room and the fallen angel hung heavy, room darkening curtains across the window. Riko blinked to switch to her demonic vision so she could observe her surroundings.

“Yocchan?” She murmured, realizing the other girl was no longer snuggled against her. In fact, she didn’t seem to be in bed at all.

What was that?

Movement out of the corner of her eye. However, as soon as she turned her head, it was gone.

Where?

Again, from the other direction. A sinewy shadow skittered down the wall, across the floor and directly toward…

“Kyaaa!” Riko shrieked, holding out a shaking hand to shield herself while desperately trying to summon her claws to make herself look slightly more intimidating.

The umbral abomination approached the edge of the bed, leaning close enough that Riko could easily make out dozens of dagger like teeth ready to rend her.

“St-stay away!” Riko sputtered, clutching the duvet to her chest as though it offered any amount of protection.

“Gotcha!” A burst of black feathers crashed down upon the creature.

“Y-Yocchan?”

“What have I told you about behaving when we have guests?”

“Eh?”

“Now get back under there.” Yoshiko made several kicking motions. “We’re trying to sle… What? Introduce you? Oh, uhm… sure, I guess that’s fine. C’mon back out.”

“Yocchan?”

Yoshiko looked up, seeming to have just noticed the redhead. “Oh, sorry, Riri. Didn’t mean to wake you.” She smiled apologetically as she rubbed the back her neck. “I forgot what month it was already. He gets a little rambunctious this time of year. You know, Halloween and whatnot.” She motioned with her hand as though to indicate what she was saying should be obvious.

“Who gets…” Riko was confused “you mean that thing that attacked me?”

“Attack?” Yoshiko snorted. “Nah, he’s harmless… more or less. Just your normal old run of the mill bed monster. Surely no match for a demon like Riri. And besides, he knows Phobetor will eat him if gets too out of control.” She looked down. “You comin’? I thought you wanted to meet her.”

Slowly, the shadow slunk back up to about where it had been earlier. However, with its head hung and shoulders slumped, it looked far more dejected than frightening this time.

“Riri, Mr. Gnashtooth.” Yoshiko motioned to each. “Mr. Gnashtooth, Riri.”

The creature opened its mouth as though to speak, but what came out sounded to Riko like a malfunctioning meat grinder.

“He says it is very nice to meet you.” Yoshiko translated. “And he is very sorry he scared you, but your…” She furrowed her brow. “No, I’m not going to…” She sighed. “Fine. He says he couldn’t help it because he’s never tasted a demon’s fear before and that yours was delicious.” She shook her head. “You know you’re gonna have plenty of frightened trick or treaters to feast on in a few weeks, right?”

“He eats…” Riko started.

“Their fears. Just their fears.” Yoshiko interrupted. “I told you he’s harmless.”

“More or less.”

“More or less.” Yoshiko nodded before yawning. “Now can we all get back to sleep now?” She slid down onto the bed. “Oh, wait, before I forget, I should probably try to introduce Mrs. Pointyhorn.” She pointed toward the closet. “You awake in there?”

No response.

Yoshiko chuckled as she lay down, pulling Riko along with her. “She’s even shyer than Riri.” She nuzzled back into the position she had been when the two had first fallen asleep. “I’ll introduce you two properly later. G’night Riri…”

Riko let out a slow breath before craning her neck enough to peek over Yoshiko’s head. The shado… Mr. Gnashtooth was gone, apparently under the bed now. And for some reason, that didn’t bother her as much as she thought it might. As startling as it had been initially, it was nowhere near what she had seen down in Hell. And Yoshiko seemed to have things in control.

Riko let herself relax, closed her eyes and pulled Yoshiko closer as she drifted back to sleep.

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Author’s Note Continued: I honestly did not know if I could write something and keep it trimmed down to a 4k character limit; not word limit, characters, spaces and new line breaks included. But as soon as the prompt was posted in the Idol Fanfic Heaven Discord server, I had this idea, shamelessly stolen... from myself; a chapter from my unpublished D&D story. But I figured I already gave Yohane the power set from a character there, as depicted in Heavenly Life, so why not some of her pets as well? I may skip the brain in a jar though... Unless Promptober inspires me to do so.

Anyway, as for why this chapter is not being included directly in PoH, the truth is, I kinda want to expand on it a bit first. Maybe a bit more exposition on Gnashtooth? Why is he under Yohane’s bed, of all beds? Is he free to leave and hide under other beds? Does he have a human form like many others in the story? Maybe I could explore why Riko was at Yohane’s place? Is it her first time staying over? If not, why is this her first meeting with Mr. G? And where in the timeline does this chapter take place? Before my intended “end”? After?

Perhaps once I’ve answered some of the questions above, I will post an “official” chapter to PoH. But for now, this will serve as the first chapter, of what I hope will at least become several, of a collection of short little scenes inspired by prompts in IFH’s Promptober event.

[letsperaltiago]

i don’t wanna miss you like the other girls do

#12: I can't stop thinking about you, #22: Sometimes I just can't control myself when around you and #28: I have never felt this way about anyone

or 

Jealous! Amy and brand new relationship-Peraltiago

Also: Do I need to make a statement saying that Amy obviously isn't the kind of person to think she owns anyone, but means it well and in an endearing way? There you go.

Enjoy!

Read here or on AO3 

It had all gone down in a spur of the moment-kind of moment that no one, even less Amy, had seen coming and honestly would’ve preferred to be without. It wasn’t really her place to say or do what she did, nor even as much as react upon it, alas… she did; she was in so deep with Jake Peralta and so she did it anyways.

Said moment had gone down during a weekend spent in Hartford, Connecticut, where the squad had attended a two day-seminar hosted by their brothers and sisters in the HPD.

Since the drive to Hartford was one of two hours, plus the seminar took place Saturday through Sunday, the squad had huddled together in two cars and were spending the entire weekend, Friday through Sunday, north of their respective homes in Brooklyn.

Immediately from the moment they arrived at the the hotel slash conference venue where the seminar was to be held everything seemed to set the scene for a pretty smooth, perhaps even fun, weekend where the squad would get to be entertained by other things that the wondering of why they weren’t at home on a weekend.

No one on the squad had any kind of expectations for the unknown city, except Holt who mentioned The Mark Twain House and Museum as a highly ranked point on his to be done-list, which meant their collective surprise upon exploring the city after checking into their rooms Friday afternoon was indeed positive enough for them to not hate the fact they were spending their weekend away from home doing work-related activities.

The very second the clock obnoxiously signalled 7 AM the following day, because not being home wasn’t an excuse, Amy Santiago was up and out of bed leaving Jake to regret, just for a tiny second, that he shared a room with his brand new paramour. It’d only been two weeks since coming to terms about “screw light and breezy”, and so far everything was smooth sailing although that morning was clearly an example of the two still figuring out this new dynamic of theirs.

“Ugh, can you stop being a decent person and get back in bed,” Jake groaned in pain when Amy without hesitance pulled aside the curtain to let in the bleak east coast-sun. If they’d been away on vacation in Mexico, even just as far as California, then maybe Jake would’ve accepted this. But there sure as hell was nothing less motivating than a sad barely there-sun hiding behind puffy clouds but still shining brightly enough to rip him out of his comfortable sleep. Especially when all there was to “look forward to”, quote Amy, was seminars; learning and powerpoint presentations that would haunt him in his next sleep.

“Stop whining and get up! The seminar starts at 8!” Amy hurried carelessly at him used to his many complaints of this childish nature. She didn’t let it take up too much of her time and had already moved on to grab clean clothes from her duffle bag to put on after her routine shower.

From where he had indeed not moved an inch Jake could hear the shower being turned on, door to the bathroom still open, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was exhausted from staying up just a bit too late watching stupid videos on his phone then he would’ve attempted to sneak into the steaming water with Amy because he could do that now… Insane.

On the other side of the shower curtain Amy had expected the same. There was very good reason why she’d added the little detail of leaving the door open and hoped would lure him out of bed. To her disappointment she quickly noticed her so-called sneaky plan was in vain leaving but one last attempt up her sleeve.  

“Jake, the breakfast buffet closes at 7.30!” she called out momentarily turning off the shower to allow her to pick up on potential sounds which could indicate her victory.

Indeed the last attempt was the right one: seconds later she heard the sound of quick footsteps and the ruffling of what she guessed was clothing items before a messy-haired, baggy-eyed Jake stumbled into the bathroom stark naked and on the edge of out of breath. The way to a man’s heart really was through his stomach, Amy though to herself amused.

“Mind if I join in real quick?” he smiled sheepishly trying his best to hide exhaustion.

All complaints and opposing to her morning ritual went down the drain with shower water the moment Amy turned it back on and smiled through biting down on her bottom lip.

Santiago: 1 - Peralta: 0

—

Perhaps Amy had twisted the truth just a tiny bit to get him out of bed so early. Jake figured this out when they 20 minutes later walked downstairs and saw a sign announcing that the first part of the seminar wasn’t scheduled for 8, like Amy had said, but rather 9 and buffet as well only closed an hour later than Amy’s information had told him. Lucky for her he was so infatuated that he let her off the hook with a playful jab to her sides and a comment about how she probably didn’t even want to date him but was simply a double-agent sent to improve his habits and lifestyle. This in return earned him a very familiar by now laugh, roll of this eyes and smile-combo: a combo he’d never get tired of and already felt like getting an eternal subscription to.

The seminar was okay, he guessed; either that or watching Amy furiously yet impressively neatly take notes with the speed of light beside him was enough to make it feel so. He was convinced of the latter when she afterwards with the brightest smile on her face showed him all the knowledge she’d managed to boil down to a few neatly organised pages in her notebook. It felt dangerous so early on in whatever they would turn out to be, yet also so very natural that in his world nothing was greater than the sight of Amy Santiago smiling at him. A sight he’d quickly grown addicted to already years back although without coming to terms with it until some months prior.

“Are you sticking around for the Q & A?” Amy interrupted his wandering thoughts whilst getting a new page in her notebook ready as a few people started leaving their seats and the conference room.

“Nah,” Jake shook his head honestly knowing that it would be lying to both himself and her if he tried to act like he genuinely cared about sticking around for an additional 30 minutes of re-explaining what he’d already spent 2 hours zoning in and out of. “I think I’ll head to the lounge. I’m feeling snacky.”

“Of course,” Amy smiled shaking her head in an evident manner. “See you at lunch then?”

“Yup,” he got out of his seat before adding a “see you at lunch, nerd,” accompanied by one last teasing smile before joining Rosa on her walk towards the exit. The comment combined with his soft brown eyes and warm smile was enough to have Amy feeling like a puddle of mush in her seat. To know that said brown eyes and warm smile were… hers? It felt weird to say or even just think it since they hadn’t officially declared themselves boyfriend/girlfriend but definitely were something; something not light and breezy; perhaps solid was the appropriate antithesis to use?

No matter what - light, breezy, solid or whatever they could be defined as - when her eyes trained after Jake walking off for just tiny bit longer than intended, Amy definitely noticed how a group of four women, colleagues, she assumed, sitting on the other side of the middle isle between her and them where Jake was walking chatted and giggled as their eyes switched back and forth between each other and Amy’s favorite partner. In spite of the fact that she was en excellent lipreader Amy, to her curiosity’s dismay, couldn’t exactly tell what these women were saying or giggling about however two things were certain: one was that they were in one way or another very interested in Jake, even after he’d left the room, and two was that Amy didn’t like it. An uneasy tightness formed in her stomach telling her so and she for the following 30 minutes of a Q & A she had looked forward to couldn’t focus enough to take any actual notes. All she was left with post Q & A were mindless doodles on an otherwise blank page which was both a waste of paper and but even worse of no good use for her knowledge.

The second the seminar was officially completely over which was everyone’s cue to leave for lunch, Amy did her best, notebook and pencil case held tightly to her chest, in an attempt to get as close to the giggly group of women from before as the room’s population walked out of the room in one big stream. Completely forgetting that she was supposed to meet up with the Jake and the others for lunch she automatically followed the four women to the hotel bar where they settled down - and so of course so did Amy simply opting for a few seats further down in conjunction with ordering herself a soda as to not attract herself any suspicion or attention.

“Oh my gosh, Sydney, you have to figure out who that guy from the seminar was!”

This definitely caught Amy’s attention, both to her pleasing and bitterness: pleasing because she’d been right about her gut-feeling and bitterness because that guy was her guy. Not whoever this Sydney was.

“Yeah, he was pretty cute right?” Who Amy guessed was Sydney, a tall, beautiful blonde clad in a nice pantsuit, Amy had to admit, answered just as enthusiastically.

“Totally! And since he’s here, probably, also a cop,” the same friend who had started the conversation chimed in and Amy wished to God she’d just shut up rather than stuff her friend’s head with bad ideas like hitting on Amy’s own guy.

“I smell work place-romance, ladies,” a third friend giggled riling the other’s up along with her. To them it was all a joke, fun, some kind of competition of cat and mouse but Amy, at her respective end of the bar, was feeling herself starting to boil, more than she’d like to admit, at the thought of someone else taking away from her what she’d just struggled for so long to obtain. It was her cute cop-guy from the seminar; her work-place romance; her… whatever! And also what kind of dumb name was Sydney even? Jake and Sydney? So dumb.  

“I mean we are here for another entire day so I’ll have to make sure to run into him at some point. Tonight…” the tone of Sydney’s voice took on a sultry undertone that had Amy shuffling uncomfortably in her seat. “… wouldn’t be a bad time to run into him.” The smug smile on the blonde’s face had Amy feeling like punching it right off of her.

As if on cue, like timing couldn’t have been any worse, friend number four made her presence be known and squealed with excitement while pointing which of course immediately earned herself the three other’s full attention. “Girls! There he comes! Right there!”

Within seconds all four girls heads snapped to the side with wide hungry eyes reminding Amy of what a flock of vultures looked like prior to ripping apart an animal cadaver in a documentary she’d watched a few days ago.

Vulture-like or not, Amy’s head was included in this collective redirecting of focus and followed the direction in which the friend had pointed to.

And there he was indeed: Jake Peralta, clad in his navy blue long-sleeved NYPD-shirt and freshly cut hair with the tiniest hint at a beginning forehead curl, was walking into the lounge that very moment seemingly looking around for someone and also completely unaware of the people watching him as his entrance seems to unfold in slow-motion. Amy almost couldn’t blame the girls for drooling because the cocky detective looked really good walking into the room completely oblivious to the attention he’d brought upon himself.

“Damn… He looks even cuter than what I remembered. I have to give it a try, don’t I?” Sydney questioned, obviously rhetorically already knowing what she wanted as she almost drooled like an agitated Doberman.  

“I mean if you won’t, Sydney, then I will!” the friend who’d noticed Jake enter the room playfully challenged, and even though it was all fun and games to them, Amy felt like her seat was on fire making it almost impossible to stay passive and seated for much longer.

“Oh, hell no. Stay away from him. This one’s mine, Jasmin!”

There was no telling if the line had already been crossed multiple inappropriate remarks ago and she’d managed by the grace of God to stay seated or if this last comment was the one to exceed what Amy considered her very flexible limits. Either way, no matter what, the first one option or the other, this time Amy failed to bite her tongue. She threw a comment out into the open without thoroughly considering its consequences out in the open fora first thus letting the group, especially Sydney, know what was weighing on her mind.

“You've got a lot of nerve to call a complete stranger ‘yours’,” the borderline growl of a tone in which the words came out in had Amy feeling like another person: not one she specially liked. This person, or perhaps even primitive beast was a better way of describing this persona, rooted deep down in her apparently found it very necessary to protect what she already within two weeks had come to mark as her territory. Never before had she felt so green-eyed, so absolutely reckless. This being said her instincts were more vigilant than ever before and it virtually felt out of her hands.

In the meantime, while Amy was looking at her decision in retrospect yet not at all since she wasn’t doing anything to prevent any further complications, the women had turned in their seats to collectively shoot quizzical, annoyed looks resembling daggers with their eyes at Amy.

“Excuse me?” The blue-eyed blonde challenged Amy to take her statement back which roughly said only goaded her raven-haired opponent further down the warpath.

“I said: You've got a lot of nerve to call a complete stranger ‘yours’.”

Feeling herself so ice-cold, so sure about something partially dumb and actually really petty would normally have Amy back down right away but something deep inside of her, like a raging fire, had her stand her ground. Apparently that’s what Jake Peralta could bring out in certain people, both Amy and Sydney included, because the blonde was not backing down just, rather instead coolly took another shot at Amy in the hopes to have her back off.

“Why shouldn't I? It’s not like he’s everyone, right? I’m for sure not letting any of these girls run off with him,” she pointed to the her friends behind her, the switch from threatening Amy to mindlessly joking and giggling with her little girl-squad having Amy metaphorically slack-jawed. Luckily not physically: there was no way she was showing this bimbo any sign of weakness.

“Okay, well…” Amy had had it for good and all consideration of rationality was out the window. Crowded police seminar or not there was no way in hell this light haired pest with her greedy crystal blue eyes and three flippant followers were getting the last word.“…let me explain to you why how you shouldn't assume and make people your property. Especially when you don’t even know them.”

Yes, she was being a hypocrite saying this but she was actually Jake’s special someone and not just some stranger: she did have a say in this.

For a brief second Sydney seemed shocked and like she actually considered Amy’s bold statement, but it didn’t last and before long blondie was back in the game apparently not satisfied with the way things could be left off. They way things should be left off, if you asked Amy.

“Oh, so you’re his “girlfriend” or what?,” the tone of Sydney’s voice clearly implied she didn’t believe anything Amy said.

All the, not doubt per se since she knew she wanted to be with Jake and he with her, but perhaps the insecurities about what stage they were currently at melted and slipped away as water off a duck’s back. It didn’t matter what exactly they were when one thing, the most important fact, was sure: they liked each other and they were going… steady. They were each other’s, politically correct to say or not.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I am,” Amy’s voice and eyes drilled into Sydney’s with a kind of confidence she’d never felt before, perhaps something Jake had brought into her life along with himself.

In return it earned her a mocking scoff.

“Easy for you to say. He might as well be a random guy you’ve spotted in the crowd,” one of Sydney’s friends stepped in to help her friend in what Amy knew was a lost cause on their part.

“He could be a stranger,” Amy paused very briefly biting her lip as to refocus, hopefully managing to not say anything that could potentially make the pointless, stupid conversation even worse. This but also she still did want to make very clear that the random, cute cop walking into the lounge (who even knew where exactly he was at this point?) was hers.

“But he’s not: he’s my boyfriend.”

It was as Amy allowed herself a small halt to provide her lungs with fresh air, just in case Sydney felt like dragging out the discussion, when cute cop-guy very suddenly made his exact position  known. He was walking straight up to the bar and them displaying smiley lips and eyes plastered on Amy. All the women’s eyes - Amy, Sydney and friends - immediately forgot about their opponent to focus on newly reappeared target who obviously had no clue about the fact that he was walking into the belly of the beast when he made it to his destination next to Amy.

“Hey, Ames.”

He nonchalantly stretched out his right arm to place a hand on the bar behind her crating a point of support for him to lean his weight onto.

“You catching up with some old friends?”

Oh, sweet naive Jake, Amy thought but also lowkey melted as he very credulously sent Sydney and her friend’s a warm, welcoming smile wanting to make a good impression on who he believed were part of Amy’s social circle.

“Eh,” Amy smiled culpably knowing telling Jake the truth about the situation would be the epitome of an embarrassment so early on in this new relationship of theirs. “I was just making small-talk, I guess. You know… meeting new people - yay.”

She couldn’t have sounded any less awkward and enthusiastic, even if she tried. Jake, on his part, was either really openminded or had figured out there was a good reason as to why she acted like she did and didn’t want to dig deeper into it, settling for an understanding nod.

“Well, anyhow… I don’t mean to interrupt anything but you never showed up for lunch and so I just popped in to try and find you.”

Even head turned to look at Jake who was slightly behind her meaning she could only see Sydney out of the corner of her eye, Amy could tell her smug, confident look from before was faltering with every exchange of words between Jake and Amy though they were far from flirty or telling about their relationship in any way. And, yes, she could’ve left it at that, as undramatic at it had all managed to turn out but Amy, well aware of how petty it was, she knew, couldn’t help but want to conclusively knock in the nail of victory.  

“Aw,” Amy spun a quarter of a round on her barstool to face Jake behind her before affectionally placing a hand on his chest - both for the sake of the show but also because, wow, she could actually do that as she pleased now. Something she was still getting used to.

“That’s very sweet of you, babe,” the word in focus was always said in an affectionate tone but this specific context definitely had it over-enhanced and laced with extra sweetness to make her message very clear.

Then breaking her own no making out at work-rule, the only rule to have survived “screw light and breezy”, she couldn’t help herself and gave into the enraged possessiveness inside of her. She leaned in to place a soft, just a bit longer than a peck, kiss to Jake who automatically lightly bent his neck to eliminate the remaining space between their current height difference. The kiss was good, they always were with him, but it definitely had to send a signal that hopefully Sydney would pick up on: do not touch.

Amy, not wanting to break her own rule too much and give in to straight up inappropriate PDA, then pulled back to throw the women-squad a smirk over her shoulder as her hand never left the safety of Jake’s blue shirt.

“Anyways… I think we’re done here? Right, girls?”

To her immense pleasure Amy was met by a mixture of bitterness and surprise which had to mean she’d proven her point. Finally. Jake Peralta, officially boyfriend or not, was not to be considered anyone but hers - apart from being very much his own person as well.

In the meantime, slightly shocked but also far from displeased by Amy’s very out of blue-kiss, Jake stood passive by waiting for his partner’s upcoming directions. He didn’t have to wait for long because whoever these other women were, Amy was done with them and hopped off of her stool promptly grabbing his hand to walk away with. It took him a few feet of walking in silence before Jake could fully assemble and give meaning to everything that had just happened. He turned to question a still smug, also a bit guilty-looking, Amy.

“Okay, so are you going to tell me what all that was about?”

They kept walking out of the lounge and down one of the many halls of the hotel.

“Nothing.”

Jake was perhaps naive at times as he saw a lot of good in everything, which Amy loved, but he knew a guilty lip bite when he saw it and it was currently on full display on the raven haired beauty.  

“Hey,” he pulled her aside into one of the many small wall pockets leading to individual hotel rooms as he wished to seclude them in hopes of it easing her into telling him the truth. “What’s up with you?” he smiled knowingly taking some intensity out of the moment. It’s not like he was angry or anything, curious being a better word for it.

“Nothing,” she smiled sheepishly trying to hurry out of the secluded area but quickly realising she’d failed once she felt his hand wrap around her upper arm to gently pull her back in. Her back gently fell back against the wall before him forcing her to face him.  

He lightly tilted his head to the side much like a puppy would when feeling peculiar which was hard to resist when his eyes, soft and brown, had so much resemblance with a sweet puppy’s as well. She could tell he was teasing her, aware of the fact that he knew something she didn’t and it drew her insane in both the worst and best way - Jake Peralta summed up for you.

“Now I don’t believe that… girlfriend.”

In contrast to the playfulness controlling her body seconds ago Amy Santiago suddenly felt much more put on the spot, it clearly showing by the way her blood all at once seemed to fire up her cheeks. He’d overheard her talking to Sydney and the others; he’d heard her declare herself as his girlfriend when they hadn’t even agreed on calling each other that yet. The nervousness tricked her into making a loud swallow; yet another tell.

“Oh… y-you heard that?” She stuttered.

Jake nodded firmly almost encapsulating her against the wall when he took a step forwards, but made sure to leave just enough space for her to not feel straight up trapped against her will. A small smug smile on display. Why was he enjoying this? Didn’t he see that he was torturing her?

“I’m sorry - I really didn’t mean to. I know we’ve just barely begun seeing each other as more than friends, it’s just these girls were saying things about you and sometimes I just can't control myself when around you and then it just kind of-“

He cut off her rambling by pressing his lips to hers, much needed, gently pressing her up against the wall although. Only because they were hidden from the majority of the hotel’s population, Amy allowed and excused this - or so she told herself. The feeling of his welcoming lips made her forget the mess for a few seconds, just giving into how good of a kisser Jake Peralta was, and even for a few seconds after their lips parted again she was speechless and dumbfounded by how she’d gotten herself a guy this great.

“Stop apologising,” he chuckled quickly using his thumb to wipe the corner of his mouth which inevitably made him look that much hotter.

“I know we didn’t exactly “agree on it” and that it’s still all very new, like you said, but, Ames…” his eyes mellowed after looking just a tad too cocky and alluring before, during and right after the kiss. This was definitely a different shade of Jake looking into her eyes and talking: a very soft one. “… I don’t need a certain trial period or approval from anyone to know that I’m your boyfriend and you’re my girlfriend.”

Upon hearing these words coming from the one and only Jake Peralta with recipient being herself, Amy Santiago she felt her heart shoot through the roof, take a trip around the moon and fly straight back into her chest where it had her feeling like crying, smiling, screaming and laughing all at once: a very maniac-like but also wonderful feeling. The most wonderful as far as she could recall.

“And I’m not going to force you to tell me exactly what happened, but just based on the way your fists were basically clenched when I walked up to you, am I wrong to assume that they were, let’s say, treading on your territory…”

If she’d been blushing before then now her face was definitely on fire and looking down at her feet apparently didn’t help cover it at all. The silence was enough of an answer, one which he chuckled in reaction to.

“It’s okay, Ames. At least I came around before you could Jimmy Brogan them.”

At this sympathetic joke reminding her of a time that seemed to be so long ago she had to look back up. She couldn’t hold back a chuckle and it warmed her heart to share it with him just like when he shared his with her. All the previous insecurities: had she gone too far? Let her tongue run away with her? Given too much of herself too fast to something as brand new as her relationship with Jake? It had all been answered by a few simple words, caring eyes and a kiss that told her everything she needed to know.

“I just don’t want you to think I’m this crazy-jealous, possessive type. I’m normally not like this, I promise. I guess I have never felt this way about anyone before and maybe that’s why I’m acting up. Amy I crazy?” a tingling feeling of vulnerability made an encore.

“No, you’re not because I’m right here freaking out, in the best kind of way, because of what you just said. This is the first time I feel like this too, like I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s scary and great all at once.” Jake was quick to wash away said vulnerability she was feeling and replaced it with a prickling affection and hope.

“So… no more feeling insecure about us?” he offered some kind of peace-offering, partly to her but mostly to their shared insecurities, trying to not come off as too gluttonous as he slid his hands onto her waist wanting to soak in a new feeling of belonging. A feeling he’d found in her.

“Deal,” Amy accepted the offering with a sheepish smile as her insides flipped upside down witch excitement. All she wanted was to be with this guy, fully and greatly, and this confrontation and mutual agreement would allow her to not give a damn about future external factors.  

“Noice. Smart,” escaped him in optimistic relief but before she could roll her eyes at it he leaned in to softly kiss her again. Being held by him, hands gently tracing the front pockets of her pants while his lips took her to another world, was something she could never deny him or herself - screw the rules. Lips collided over and over again, one tug bringing on the next until they lost sense of anything and were full on making out like a pair of horny high schoolers in-between classes. This is what they brought out in each other: happiness, fire, want and so many more things they’d both spent the last two weeks wondering how they’d lived without before.

Unfortunately their movie-like moment had to be cut somewhat short as people coming back from lunch started flooding the hall passing by their little intimate pocket in the wall. Amy liked Jake but she also liked staying professional and this Jake respected. They jumped back, creating an exaggerated amount of space between them before sending passing strangers innocent smiles as if they hadn’t just spent the last few minutes declaring feelings and making out at an interstate police seminar.

“So, Detective Santiago…” his voice took on a brand new tone of gravity - a tone she also recognised as acting. “Shall we head over for lunch?”

“I’m sorry to come bearing such bad news, Detective Peralta, but people are flooding the hall as per consequence of the fact that lunch is over,” Amy played along taking on a serious tone and posture.

“Aw, man… Seriously?” he whined childishly, his recent serious persona from seconds before immediately  forgotten.

“Sorry… boyfriend,” she smiled sheepishly in an attempt to cheer him up which she had to praise herself, as it obviously worked seeing his face instantly lit up.

“Whatever… It was worth losing lunch over, girlfriend.”

[lancearcherinrippedjeans]

Fun Sized Matchmaker

ICBeing The Elite Part 2 

Click right HERE for Part 1, It Started with The Janela Zone

Pairings -  Adam Page x OFC, Chuck Taylor x OC, Marq Quen x OFC

Category - Fluff, comedy, more angsty than the last

Warnings/Promises - Anxiety attacks, cussing

Word Count - 2216

Summary/Desc - Parker struggles to believe Chuck really likes her, Gabby meets the Elite, Bri and Marq wonder what they are. 

“Marko leave me alone about it!” Parker bursted out, carrying her legs away from one of her newer friends. Marko had to practically jog to catch up with her, for one, she was way taller, and two, she walked fast. “Oh come on! It’s pretty clear that he likes you!” She stopped all of a sudden, making him run into her back.

“Oh my God- Marko get up.” Parker gave him a hand before continuing, “It’s been ONE, I’ll say it again ONE, UNO, EINS, ODIN week. And plus he wouldn’t want someone like me.”

“Yes he would! He’s been talking about you the whole week, even Jack is starting to like you.” “Ha ha, very funny jokes.” 

This was normal behavior for Parker. She wouldn't believe anyone liked her, because of past relationships, all, clearly, never worked out. Even if he did, he would probably get tired of her, like every other boy, girl or person. Marko gave her a look, “You don’t know that. Plus it was meant to be.” Parker looked down at him for the last sentence. “Have you NOT seen all the posts people have made about you two?” Her eyes widened, “What. Posts. Marko.”

He pulled out his phone, showing her the posts from Instagram, Twitter and even Tumblr. Parker instantly wanted to just curl up in a ball and die. Anxiety felt worse than what it usually did. And just to make things worse, she looked over to see Trent and Chuck standing 20 feet away. So what’s the first thing anyone would do? Run and run till you reach outside. She made it outside and broke down, she’d had her fair share of anxiety attacks, but this one seemed different. 

She felt way more sick, mouth dry and felt like she was about to pass out. She heard footsteps approaching, “What was tha-?” Marko noticed the state she was in, and tried his best to calm her down, “Hey hey, you got this. You gotta be ready for your Being The Elite segment later.” She went through her usual steps to calm down, and they took a while but they worked. She stood up and dusted herself off, “How bad did it look like I was crying?”

Marko shrugged, “I think it’s a good idea you decided to do your makeup later.” Parker lightly shoved him, “Dork.”

Gabby and Adam were walking down the hallway, hand in hand when Adam had a surprise. “Ok close your eyes.” Adam said, moving in front of Gabby. “Oh lord.” Gabby shook her head but still did what the cowboy said. Adam pulled out this small suede black box. “Ok open.” Adam had the biggest smile on his face. Gabby opened her eyes, with a smile on her face and gave him a big hug, she said no words in that moment.

Gabby pulled her hand out for Adam to put on the ring. “You like it?” Adam questioned. “I love it! thank you so much, I love you” Gabby was excited. Adam had bought her a promise ring, both of their names on each side with a diamond in the middle. “How did you get this so fast?” “Don’t worry, I know people who know people.” They laughed it off.

“Well don’t you think this is a lot for us not being together that long? Like I love you, but isn’t this a bit much?” Gabby tilted her head in confusion. “I don’t plan on leaving this anytime soon, you don’t plan on leaving this anytime soon. What’s the wait?” Adam palmed her chin rubbing her cheek. “You right, I guess we aren’t moving that fast.” Gabby smirked. The couple walked towards the rest of the roster, hands locked as always.

The Elite

The The Elite

The Elite

The The Elite

The Elite

The The Elite

Superkick PAAARRRR-

Jack Daniels bottle in one hand, Gabby’s waist in the other. A drunk Adam Page and a sober Gabby walked into the EVP’s room where you would find The Elite hanging out as usual. “Hey guys!” Adam lifted his bottle, greeting them. “Who the fuck is she?” Kenny questioned. “Yeah Adam you can’t just bring one of your female friends in here.” Matt stated.

“Guys just chill, this is Gabby. Remember Joey's friend?” Adam said, putting his bottle on the coffee table.“Hi! Just thought I’d ya know introduce myself since me and Adam are-“ Adam placed his finger over her lips in the middle of her talking. “I know who she is, what’s that on your finger gabby?” Nick pointed at her hand. “Look I wasn’t gonna tell y’all but, we are together and are in love.” Adam pulled Gabby in tighter.

“You’re dating?!” The trio of Kenny and The Bucks yelled. Gabby put her hand up with the ring on her finger, “Yup, and he gave me a promise ring!” “Who would’ve thought Adam would be in a relationship.” Nick softly smirked. Kenny looked down and laughed in silence before getting up and walking out the room. “Kenny!!! Don’t leave!”' Matt screamed then walked out to the hallway.

“Wonder what’s wrong with hi-“ Gabby pulled Adam into a kiss, cutting off his words.

sHoTs sHoTs ShOtS

Bri and Private Party were walking down the hallway again, way more calm than last week. They were almost off camera when they, once again, bumped into Nick Jackson. He sighed heavily, “I already told y’all last week I wasn’t interested.” Marq put his hands up, “Woah woah woah, Nick. Slow your roll there.” Nick looked irritated. “We weren’t tryna set y’all two up last week.” “So what? You’re gonna try and do it this week?”

“Nah,” Marq put his arm around Bri’s shoulder and pointed at her, “This mines now.”

Nick squinted, “Yeah right.” “You don’t believe me?” Nick crossed his arms, “Nope.”

Marq detached his arms from Bri and got up in Nick’s face, the tables had turned, “I’m deadass!” Nick had jumped back, surprised from what he just heard and was left silent while Bri and Marq walked away. Nick was about to continue down the hallway when Isiah put his hand up to stop him. Nick looked at him and shook his head, whispering no multiple times. When Isiah put his hand up and did a motion like he was dropping a microphone.

Nick was left stunned, “Damn. Alright then.”

Attempted Murder

There was a knock on a locker room door, you heard “Come in!” from the other side and when the door opened, you saw The Best Friends accompanied with Parker, eyes widened. “Hey...Brandon.” Trent let out quickly looking towards Parker, glaring.

“Do you guys by any chance know who hit me last week?” Brandon asked from behind the camera. They all shook their heads. “Are you sure? Cause the Bucks found me last week in here, stuffed in a suitcase.”

Chuck shrugged, a plain look on his face. Parker spoke up, “Actually, I might know who.” She paused, “I’ll tell you where they are!” She got up and walked out the door, motioning for everyone else in the room to come out. She started stating random directions and pointing, Best Friends stood behind her. “Wait so who am I looking for?” “Oh.” Chuck said, looking at Parker. “Well, y’know.” She shrugged, before they all took off running, well, except for Orange, who lazily walked behind them.

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The Elite The The Elite

What Nick you’re not gonna sing it all with me this time?

The three friends had gone their separate ways this week after the show. Bri with Private Party, Gabby with her love and Parker packing up by herself.

The newest couple, Gab and Adam, were sitting at the bar at Daily’s Place, drinking as always. When they both heard a very familiar voice, one Gabby knew pretty well. “Long time no see huh?” said Joey Janela, he sat right next to the two of them. “What’s up Joey?” Adam took a sip of his drink before wrapping his arm around Gabby’s shoulders. Gabby didn’t really think to tell Joey about her and Adam , after he left with Sonny last week they rarely talked. “My bad Joey, I didn’t really tell you about last week.” “It's cool, what happened?” Joey questioned. “That’s bae,” he motioned towards Gabby, “is what happened” Adam added. “Please don’t mind him Joey, he’s drunk. But he ain’t lie.” Gabby looked away from Joey.

“Oh really? I’m happy for you! Guess I can call myself a matchmaker right?” Joey smiled. “Guess so, I’ll catch up later.” Gabby said before getting up and giving Joey a hug goodbye, Adam just waved at him. “Don’t act like that Adam, we are friends, geez.'' Adam just took another sip of his drink not responding to what Gabby said. “You’re so lucky you're drunk right now, otherwise this would be an argument” Gabby playfully sneered before walking away from the bar.

In the corner of the bar, Bri was talking to Marq, what happened last week was in the back of their heads. They were both laughing when he asked the question, “Did you mean to throw up? Or did you mean to kiss me?” Bri shrugged, “Well, I would like to do the second one right now, since I didn’t get to last time.” Marq shook his head, “Then what are you waiting for?”

Bri leaned forward and attached her lips with Marq’s. It wasn’t long, but it sure was sweet. Like they had been waiting to do that forever. They had both smiled. “Wait so what are we?”

He shrugged, “Guess we’ll see.” She had smiled and kissed him again, before going back to the conversation before.

Far away from the bar, packing her bags was Parker. Still upset from talking with Marko earlier. She liked Chuck, she really did. But she felt scared, what Marko has been saying could be a lie, or it could be the truth, but those feelings could easily go away.

Before she knew it, a tear rolled down her cheek. There was a knock on the door in the room she was in when she quickly wiped the tear. “What, what who is it?” In walked Marko, smile on his face, “So? How do you feel?” She sighed, “Great, I really hope we all get to keep coming back. Even though we aren’t really wrestlers.” Marko rolled his eyes, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what?” “Didn’t he ask?”

She put her stuff down and looked at him like he was crazy, “I’m gonna snatch that nose ring out if you don’t tell me what you’re talking about!”

He sighed annoyed, “Chuck said he was gonna come talk to you about last week cause y’know, he really wanted to ask out the question, but I guess he chickened out.” “What?! Where can I find him?!”

Marko thought for a second, “Oh! He said he was riding by himself tonight, unless you said yes, but he might be in the parking lot.” She quickly grabbed her phone and ran out, but came back in and hugged Marko, “Thank you.”

Off Parker was, like it was some cliche romance movie, and once she reached the parking lot she quickly looked around, but Chuck was nowhere to be seen. She mentally slapped herself for not exchanging numbers with him last week. She wanted to cry again, but instead she just started attacking a bush. Punching, kicking, and cussing out, a fucking plant.

She was clearly causing a scene, even though most of the people were gone and weren’t coming out. She heard a voice behind her, one she for once, wasn’t that nervous to hear, “Parker? What the heck are you doing?” She turned around and looked at the voice. Chuck looked concerned and confused.

“Did you chicken out?” “Chicken out of what?!” “Asking me to be with you! You Kentucky Born idiot!” “Marko told me you’re the one who chickened out!”

They looked at each other, confused before they exploded in fits of laughter. Parker looked up at him and just smiled. Chuck broke the silence, “So, are you just gonna continue to beat up an innocent bush or?” “Shut up!” She laughed and walked towards him, playfully hitting him over and over.

He laughed before grabbing her wrists, and they were silent for a moment. They had FINALLY done what they had both wanted to for a whole week, and that was to share a kiss. Chuck pulled away to ask, “So what do I call you? My girlfriend? Boyfriend? Significant other?”

Parker smiled, “Call me whatever.” “Alright, Parker, you’re my whatever.” They both just smiled at each other when you heard a small voice across the parking lot, “See! I told you he liked you!” Parker groaned, “Excuse me while I go beat him up.”

“Alright, don’t take too long, my whatever.” Parker ran after Marko, with a smile on her face. 

She wasn’t his thot anymore.

Hey fam, make sure you also follow @westanaew​ , the co writer for this series. Hope you enjoyed this part, come back next Monday for part 3!

[arabian-bloodstream]

Gendrya Confirmation, Bitches!

OK, so technically, no, it's not confirmed, but I'm taking this bit of detective work on my part as confirmation, damnit! (Not that I didn't already 100% believe that Gendrya was happening and have been pretty darn firm in that belief all along.) So before I jump to that, I need to set it up and so I shall...

Alrighty then, I wrote a post full of happy-happy-joy-joy, entitled: "Oh, my precious babies! So endgame!" a few weeks ago. I wrote this after the episode when most of the Gendrya fanbase was not very happy. You know, that would be episode 04, yeah, the one when Gendry dropped to his knee and proposed and Arya was all, 'Nah, I'm good' and went back to her target practice while his little heart crumpled to a million pieces before our very eyes. Yeah, that one.

Meanwhile, I was all "YES!" at the end of episode because my precious babies were clearly endgame in my eyes! True story, look at the date on that linked post. So the main reason why I felt so positive about Arya and Gendry after episode 04 was because of the first scene with the Hound and the final scene with the Hound. As I wrote in that post:

In the first scene, Gendry and the Hound were at the feast celebrating the North’s victory over the undead–Arya’s victory. And, of course, Arya was nowhere to be found.

  Gendry: Have you seen Arya?   The Hound: You can still smell the burning bodies and that’s where your head is at?   Gendry: I just want to thank her–   The Hound: I’m sure you do.   Gendry: Look, it’s not about that.   The Hound: Of course it’s about that, you twat. Why shouldn’t it be? The dead are dead. You’re not.

The Hound made it pretty clear he was well aware that Gendry wanted to *be* with Arya and when Gendry tried to deny it, the Hound called him on it and, surprisingly, pointed out that it was exactly what he should be doing. Now, let’s make this clear. Gendry wanted to celebrate LIFE with *Arya* and the Hound flat-out told him that such was exactly the thing he should be doing.

Contrast this with the final conversation the Hound has in the episode.

    Arya: You’re heading to King’s Landing.     The Hound: I have some unfinished business.     Arya: Me too.     The Hound: I don’t plan on coming back.     Arya: Neither do I.

So we have the show using The Hound to illustrate that *Gendry* is life as Gendry wanted to celebrate life with Arya–who you remember was “celebrating” by shooting arrows at a target–and on the opposite spectrum, that Arya has indeed once more chosen a life of death. Now, at the end of that discussion, he also asked that if he needs her to kill him, will she just leave him to not die again and she said probably… which means, that they probably will wind up in a situation like that, but this time she will give him mercy. However, before she does, he’ll tell her to choose life. Something like: Go get that blacksmith cunt that’s always mooning over you and have lots of black-haired babies with him. Don’t be like me. Don’t chase death your whole life. Live.

I later expounded exclusively on that theme in greater detail here in a post (not surprisingly) titled: Arya's Choice. In that one, I discussed the entangling of the Hound and Gendry in Arya's storyline throughout season 08 going back to their reunions with her taking place together. In this meta, I wrote:

The reason that Arya’s first scene with Gendry and the Hound was done TOGETHER [...] is because they represent opposite choices of her life going forth.

The Hound is death.

Gendry is life.

It’s all tied up together. Gendry (life) chose to walk away from her all those years away, and then Arya ran away and was captured by the Hound (death). Now Gendry (life) offered himself to her, but she chose to walk away and met up with the Hound (death). It’s eventually going to come down to Arya making the choice herself to walk away from death–which I believe that the Hound will push her to do–and choose life, choose Gendry.

As noted above, I even gave him some dialogue when I did think that Arya would give him mercy. (Although to be fair, I thought that Arya would do so because everyone around me kept saying she would do so. I hadn't really thought that would happen before it kept getting pushed at me. :shrugs:) But the main thing is that I thought he would give her the push to live comparing his life to hers. No, he didn't mention anything about Gendry--nor (and I can't believe I'm saying this because I'm not particularly fond of the word, but coming from Sandor Clegane it was always hilariously used) did a 'cunt' come from him all season long. He died without uttering it even once. Sad.

Anyhoo. Comparing part of my "something like this" dialogue for his parting words to Arya with what he actually said? I think I nailed it pretty closely.

My words: Don’t be like me. Don’t chase death your whole life. Live. His words: You think you've wanted revenge a long time? I've been after it all my life. It's all I care about and look at me. LOOK AT ME! You want to be like me? You come with me, you die here.

Same point getting across there. And this is what David Benioff said about the scene itself "Inside the Episode” that was on Youtube right after the show aired.

It's a small scene, but it's also, for us, one of the most important scenes in the whole episode because it's the culmination of their story together. The road to vengeance always ends in one place. Which is what the Hound is saying to her here. "I've made my choice a long time ago, and this can only end in one possible way for me. But for you, you have so many other options.

The Hound has genuinely come to have affection for Arya. I think he loves her, as much as he's capable of loving someone. And he knows that if she comes with him at this point, she's not gonna make it out of there.

So, yeah... Nailed it! And if the Hound is death... then doesn't that then make Gendry life considering how they’ve so closely entangled the two characters with Arya this season? Especially with the contrasts? Not only the conversations in episode 04, but Arya choosing to not spend her final hours with the miserable old shits (The Hound, and yes, Beric, but the Hound was the key one there) but instead having sex with Gendry. And sex well, its main purpose is to, you know, create life. And then there’s the first time she saw them both this season in episode 01, “Winterfell,” Arya spied the Hound and then Gendry arrive. The Hound rode in upon a black horse. Gendry? A white horse.

After she turned down Gendry's proposal--in my analysis, rejecting life--and joined the Hound on the road to King's Landing to commit regicide, expecting to not come out of it alive--accepting death--she rode a black horse.

After listening to Sandor's words, after choosing to let Cersei die by a means other than her hand, running through the streets of death and chaos, fighting to live, fighting to try and help others live, surviving because the God of Death declared that no, my former pupil, death was not happening, not today, Arya Stark stood amidst all of that death and she stood in the light. The sun shone upon her and she saw a way out of that darkness, away from all of that death, back to life. She saw a white horse.

And she rode on that white horse away from death. To life? To Gendry? I think so.

Now, taking all of that into account, the Arya and the tangling of Gendry and the Hound--which just had to definitively be deliberate--here's where my little detective work brought me to my final definitive GENDRYA CONFIRMATION, BITCHES! moment.  In early Spring, D.B. Weiss and Daniel Benioff helped create a new Spotify playlist: Game of Thrones: The End Is Coming. Upon doing so, they told For the Record in an email, “The answer to the ending is one hundred percent hidden in the playlist choices. No one will believe us, but it’s true.”

Well, a friend of mine and I have been going through each song to try and guess which songs apply to which characters and situations as we're heading into the final inning. And then I got to one particular song and I literally said: "OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG! GENDRYA CONFIMRATION, BITCHES!" And this is why.

This is from the official Game of Thrones Youtube channel: It is titled: Game of Thrones | Season 8 Episode 5 | The Hound's Gift (HBO).  The description of the video is: Maisie Williams explains Arya's choice. Yeah, you read that right. Uh huh, please do make note that my post written a week or so ago about the Hound = Death and Gendry = Life, and that Arya will choose life (thus Gendry) was titled "Arya's Choice" and I done wrote that on May 06, 2019! I'm just saying. Ahem, anyhoo. So, the video has Maisie talking about the "gift" that the Hound gives Arya.

This is a really important moment, the Hound realizing that "I don't think this kid knows what she's gonna get into." And turning around and giving her this incredible gift, which is the second ticket to a new life.

He's wanted revenge his entire life, and do you wanna be like him? "Is that what you want?" Just a moment in Arya where all those emotions that she’s been trying to suppress and trying to ignore and trying to focus on the task at hand all bubble up again, and this man who she cares so much about and has learned so much from and admires so much turned around and says ‘You don’t want this. You—you go.' She realizes there is another way. There is another life that she could have.

We tell real stories about real people and in this season, Arya decides against being that character that people love, and she decides to, to take her life into her own hands and take control of what she wants.

Let's break what she says down a bit first. Obviously, all of this lines completely up with where I've seen this going. Arya steps away from the whole list-friendly, death-first Arya-'assassin' that "people love." And it makes me sad that Maisie does know that so many people do love that iteration of Arya. It makes me so sad because Arya is so, so much more. *sigh*

The reaction to the idea of Arya having sex, showing interest in *that* kind of relationship--because no, it wasn't all just about the fact that it was watching a girl we watched grow up, there was definitely a lot of... but that's not Arya!, she's an assassin-baby!--shows that she definitely has a point. Still, what she says here makes it quite clear that, yes, Arya IS going to step away from that. Having Sandor basically say to her that she doesn't want to be a miserable old shit like him was a real wake-up call.

Her first "ticket" to life was obviously the coin from Jaqen Hagar. This is her second, and getting that from the Hound who has seen and been through so much shit with Arya, plus seeing the devastating horror of rampant death and destruction all around her has brought that message home loud and clear. She does not want that life, his life. Which is death. She is choosing now to take what she wants. And what does she want? Well, that brings me (finally!) to that OMG! moment.

Remember what I said above about the Game of Thrones spotify list and those clues that D&D talked about. Well, while going through the songs, and having watched this particular video clip the day before, I was pretty damn shook when I got to the end of "No One Knows" By Queens of the Stone Age. Here are the complete lyrics. However, what I want to focus on is the chorus and the outro as we close out the song.

[Chorus] And I realize you're mine Indeed a fool am I And I realize you're mine Indeed a fool am I Ahh

[Outro] Heaven smiles above me What a gift here below But no one knows A gift that you give to me No one knows

That's right.

"What a gift here below, but no one knows. A gift that you give to me. No one knows."

The Hound gave Arya a gift. Arya was No One.

Thus my "OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG! GENDRYA CONFIMRATION, BITCHES!"

Yeah. They are the ship that is promised. BOOYAH!

(Plus, yeah, all of the other reasons I’ve talked about ad nauseum over the last month!)

[itsblissfuloblivion]

metanoia

A/N: surprise holiday gift from @gryffindormischief & @fightfortherightsofhouseelves.  Hinny Muggle Modern AU for your reading pleasure :)

FF and Ao3

_____

Honestly, if Sirius wasn’t the estate lawyer for Mrs. Figg, Harry probably never would’ve known about the shop. About his shop.

Because Mrs. Figg loved two things - cats and pizza. And apparently thought Harry should too.

It just so happens Harry’s most recent assignment has wrapped up - with a significant number of deranged menaces to society locked away. Though not enough. Harry has been victim to the knowledge of just how horrible a human can be since he could barely spell his full name.

And now, just about thirty years later, he’s bagged his fair share of serial killers - including the one that started it all. At least for him. He’s studied, tracked, and caught them with an endless supply of motivation. Motivation that Sirius has on more than one occasion called an ‘obsession’ or ‘avoidance.’

Harry likes to think of it as a positive outcome from a highly traumatic childhood. And saying it that way makes him sound like a well adjusted adult so he sticks with it.

Though in the privacy of his own mind, it sounds less and less true with each passing day.

Which is probably why the shop feels like a set up. A glass half full type might say kismet or destiny, but again, childhood trauma and possible suppression of feelings.

Sirius sighs. “You were rabbit trailing.”

Harry grunts. “Was not.”

“Tell me what I just said.”

“Pizza shop.”

“You are a terrible godson.”

“No family discount for you,” Harry says with a grin, swirling his coffee.

Rolling his eyes, Sirius resumes his explanation. “Arabella loved you in her own strange way and this is her even stranger way of showing it.”

“But - why ? I said I liked her pizza. But she literally has a photo wall of her herd of cats - do I look like someone who wants to stare at that all day?”

Sirius fiddles with his empty Splenda packet, tearing it to bits and sighing a little. And when he does speak it’s not really an answer. “They would want you to be happy.”

Harry blinks.

“Your parents.”

“I gathered.”

A herd of teenagers bustle into the coffee shop, bringing an icy wind and puddling rain with them. Harry really hasn’t missed London’s general greyness. Psychotic murdering crime syndicate aside, Majorca was warm and sunny .

“I’m good at it, Sirius,” Harry says after a moment, “Protecting people, catching killers, don’t I owe it to them, to everyone, to keep going?”

“Don’t let that arsehole steal your whole life - you got justice,” Sirius frowns, “However much you could, that is. You don’t owe anyone, any of us.”

Harry’s quiet a moment. “Well I guess we should go take a look at my new shop.”

The first red flag really should’ve gone up when Sirius told Harry the walkthrough could wait. When he coaxed Harry into taking a post-travel nap . Then he makes his chicken alfredo pasta bake for supper and pours him a large glass of chardonnay, which was when Harry began to feel suspicious. But, just as Sirius wanted, Harry’s too pliant with rich food and heady wine to question it and ends up falling asleep without even realizing.

Yet, when he wakes, he is in pajamas and tucked in bed, mouth a bit stale. Apparently Sirius draws the line in his babying at toothbrushing. It’s just after one in the afternoon and Harry would bet fifty quid Sirius is currently the person buzzing his mobile off the bedside table.

Harry swipes his thumb across the screen and presses the phone to his face.

“Wake up lazy bones.”

“You’re the one who plied me with wine and pasta.”

Sirius’ laugh is a huff. “You’re such a lightweight.”

Harry flops back on the bed and sighs. “Ever hear of jet lag?”

“Nobody likes a whiner.”

There’s some grumbling on Harry’s end and some grouchy barking on Sirius’ end and after what Harry will fully own as whining, he agrees to a greasy breakfast and a tour of his new acquisition right off.

Halfway through his third slice of bacon - deliciously crispy and oily - Harry glances at a mysteriously quiet Sirius. “So what is it?”

“What is what?”

“The catch, the surprise, the thing you’re going to ruin my breakfast with,” Harry answers around the rim of his coffee cup.

“Breakfast? It’s well past two. Don’t know how things are on the continent but - ”

“Breakfast is the first meal of the day,” Harry asserts, “Now answer.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Eat your breakfast .”

Knowing he’s fighting a losing battle, Harry lets the issue drop with a lingering look. Or at least on the surface. Internally, he’s still in full Inspector Mode and highly suspicious of every glance Sirius gives him and every word he says.

But odd as his godfather’s behavior is, it’s not particularly helpful in any information gathering sense. Which isn’t to say it’s not a nice meal. Clinical as Harry may paint himself at times, workaholic though he can be, he loves his godfather and getting caught up doesn’t take twisting his arm.

So yes, he drops the issue for a time, but by the time they’re walking down to Arabella’s, Harry can’t resist any longer. “Don’t you think you should give me fair warning for whatever I’m about to encounter?”

“Since when do I do things like give fair warnings?”

Sirius pushes the door open, overhead bell ringing their entry, and shepherds Harry inside.

Distracted as he is by the display of gallantry, Harry takes a moment to zero in on the figure behind the counter. And when he does, everything clicks together.

His voice is a low hiss, “What the hell, Sirius?”

“Didn’t I mention?”

“You have problems,” Harry grumbles, low enough that hopefully their conversation remains private , “I officially fire you as my godfather.”

Sirius straightens his Santa-themed scarf, jauntily tossed over his shoulder and a bit at odds with the punk vibe of his leather jacket. All of which is at odds with his profession but that’s an issue for another time. A time when Harry’s not less than four paces away from his not-so-secret celebrity crush. Ginny Weasley, star striker for the Holyhead Harpies.

A crush that is complicated all the more by the fact that she’s also his best mate’s sister whom he has not seen since they were almost something. Back when he was a dumb teenager with an axe to grind and entirely too much angst for his awkward green bean-esque body.

“You can’t fire me. It’s outside the scope of your authority.”

“I’ll - ”

Harry loses whatever he was about to say to the ether, well that and Ginny’s eyes as her attention shifts from her final customer to the new entrants. Her patented customer service smile slips into place and she’s halfway through her welcome when her eyes light in recognition. “Harry! Sirius. I wish you’d warned me.”

Ruffling his hair, Harry manages to steel himself and wander closer. “Sirius doesn’t do warnings.”

Ginny nudges the register closed and passes the customer the receipt once it’s printed. “Yeah, I guess that checks out. So we’re business partners now, yeah?”

Harry leans against the counter, taking in the half-full shop, Arabella’s catered shrine to her cats. Which reminds him. “What about the cats? We’re not - ”

Grinning, Ginny tilts her head toward the empty barstools and pours a few sodas. “That was my first question. We are not feline parents.”

Sirius nods. “Arabella had a lady in her quilting group - she’s a cat lover. Took the lot.”

“How will all this fit in - aren’t you busy?” Harry asks, turning his attention to Ginny.

She shrugs. “Somebody’s #1 fan status is in danger, I am officially retired.”

“Shite I - injury?”

“Nah, just felt like time. I’m not getting any younger - in sports years - and I’d rather go out on top than limping if I can help it,” Ginny explains, “On top and in love. The magic was still there but I could feel it fading.”

“Time for a new dream, eh?” Sirius puts in.

“Someone’s been watching too much telly with Teddy,” Harry teases and glances sidelong at Ginny, whose cheeks are a bit flushed, “My godson is quite the fan of Rapunzel.”

Ginny chuckles. “I learned that on very long afternoon of babysitting Victoire and Ted.”

The conversation peters out and they linger a bit uncomfortably until the chef passes a couple of pizzas through to Ginny. With a spared smile for her companions, she grabs the two pies and heads into the dining area to deliver the orders.

Harry can’t help but watch as she turns on the charm, poses for a selfie with a nervous looking little tween at the table, and heads back their way.

Sirius nudges Harry’s arm. “Nice surprise, eh?”

Things pick up at the shop, so Sirius orders a vegetable laden pizza to go and blusters about something important he’s just got to do and disappears as soon as his pie is ready.

Leaving Harry to feel awkward and out of place, not sure he can leave and even less sure he can stay. The latter more a thing about sanity.

He might not be a huge ‘be open about your feelings’ person but Harry’s at least somewhat self aware. And Ginny Weasley, cheeky and fit as ever, wielding the power vested in her as a co-owner of a pizza shop like a queen with a very doughy throne - well it’s not good for his state of mind.

The last forty-eight hours have been highly confusing and unexpected and Harry really feels he’s handled things with admirable elegance considering the post-assignment haze he generally experiences coupled with the usual jet-lag. Well he’s a bit out of it and that means his already low ability to filter and process emotions is severely impeded.

All of which leads Harry to feel he should be cut some slack for his awkward exit - chosen at a time where he can’t do more than offer Ginny a passing wave and earn narrowed eyes in return.

So when he finds himself off the clock two days later and somehow standing in front of Arabella’s, Harry’s really not sure it’s a good idea. Or even what the idea is.

It’s late, yesterday’s snow already either shuffled to the side by plows or trampled by Londoners tramping through the streets, and Harry’s simultaneously hungry and too terrified to be so.

Because if Ginny Weasley’s angry at eight and a half because he and Ron put snails in her sock drawer was terrifying, Harry can only imagine he’s in for a dangerous evening.

The overhead bell beckons his entry and Ginny’s voice calls from the back, “Just a sec - we’re actually - “ she pauses wiping her hands on her apron as she emerges from the kitchen, “Closed.”

“Is it ever closed for me ?” Harry asks.

Ginny scowls. “Dunno we haven’t really discussed any of this, have we?”

“I-”

“You’re not starting off as a particularly enjoyable business partner.”

“It’s been less than a week, give a bloke a break, yeah?” Harry defends, twisting the lock on the door and claiming a seat at the counter.

Ginny pins him with her stare. “If you’re going to hang about after closing, help me clean up.”

Harry accepts the rag she tosses at his chest and follows her minimal, and gradually less angry, instructions. It’s congenial, and Harry finds himself beginning to relax like he hasn’t - maybe ever. At least not without the aid of some sort of sleep-inducing medication or a couple shots of whiskey in his system.

And somehow, Ginny manages to pull him out of himself, her easy chatter draws him in and somehow he finds himself making it more of a conversation. Hell, he’s having a good time and Harry would want to thank Mrs. Figg if he wasn’t still just a little ticked at being manipulated and at the fact that an octogenarian knew his interests better than he did.

Regardless, he returns most nights, sometimes after a day off, sometimes after a long shift he just wants to forget.

Ginny’s always there delivering a cheeky rejoinder or a prod to his shoulder when he’s ‘not putting in enough elbow grease’ scrubbing the dishes. And sometimes, he begins to hope, her teasing gets just a tinge of flirtatiousness.

After a month, Harry finally asks, “So you’re here alone?”

“ That’s not something a serial murderer would say,” Ginny says with a smirk, refilling another napkin holder.

“No, I mean, for closing.”

Surprisingly, Ginny flushes a bit, her voice only wavering a bit as she begins to speak before strengthening as she squares her jaw, daring him to comment. “Well, that first night, my - our - help called in sick. And then eventually you were so regular I figured why make Francis stay and pay someone when we handled it fine enough.”

“So you’re taking advantage of my free labor.”

“Hardly free partner ,” Ginny teases, filling another holder.

Harry laughs and the shop falls into silence as they go through the motions of closing, now something of a choreographed dance between them.

It’s comfortable and yet Harry feels a weight on him, words running up his throat from somewhere he’s not even really conscious of. Repressing it begins to feel pointless - why wouldn’t he just say it? What’s the harm? Part of him wonders at his trust of Ginny after only a month, but it’s really longer than that, when he thinks about it. And if he spends one more day of his life living in constant apprehension of betrayal, of someone else leaving him or letting him down - maybe Sirius was right.

Bastard.

“Ginny?”

She rises from her crouch behind the counter, ponytail askew and a slash of flour across her cheek, hiding her freckles in a dusting of powder. “Yes?”

“Did you ever - how did you know when to retire?”

Ginny pushes flyaways from her face and disappears into the kitchen, which is really not a particularly fun reaction to receive after finally drumming up courage to ask. But she returns soon enough with a few mismatched slices of pie. “We can eat the mistakes - or the rejects I suppose - and have a chat,” Ginny smiles and gestures to one of the tables without the chairs stacked, “Grab a seat.”

Harry does as she instructs and sighs. It had been a long day, more death, more horror, more of the worst of humanity. If he’s honest, which is something Harry’s really working on, it feels like that’s all his life is. Arabella’s is an escape of sorts. And Ginny is - something else entirely.

“So my retirement? You’re not investigating me for some murder, right?” Ginny asks, pulling a slice from the tray and biting into it with a sigh, “We make good pizza.”

“No, I - I’ve just been thinking,” Harry fiddles with his napkin and finally selects a slice of pizza absently, heedless of the mushrooms he really doesn’t like. Maybe the fidgety nature of pulling them from the pie will calm his nerves. “I’ve been realizing maybe I’m not happy.”

Ginny raises her brows but doesn’t interrupt as he continues, “Before I felt like I had a purpose, a reason to be doing what I was doing. Beyond just being good at it.”

“Even after?”

“Yeah - I felt a pull even after we caught Riddle, like my work wasn’t finished,” Harry answers, thoughtful, “But lately it feels more like a placeholder, like I’m just doing it to do it.”

“You’re unhappy.”

“I mean - it feels odd to say it ever made me happy ,” Harry laughs, dry, “But I was fulfilled in a strange way, had a purpose, you know?”

Ginny shakes some red pepper flakes onto her pizza and considers him for a moment, her eyes softened, before she responds. “My career wasn’t the same as yours, but I think you know when it’s time for a change. Even if you don’t want to see it. Even when it’s scary to see. You invest your life, you devote everything to being the best. It feels mad to leave it all behind.”

“And yet you did.”

She scoots her chair closer and leans her head onto his shoulder, like they’re meant to slot together. “Isn’t it madder to leave things the same and stay unhappy?”

The shop looks different by daylight, Harry notices. Less intimate. And it’s odd too. He’s never been in a shop completely alone during the day. Or really at all, since his nights spent at Arabella’s are never without Ginny except when he takes the rubbish out.

Dull considerations like the oddity of sitting alone are all he has to keep his mind busy, to prevent himself from bouncing around with wild energy or calling and taking everything back.

But he’s not one for backpedalling, especially when he’s spent so much time and energy in moving forward.

And yet, it feels like a part of him is missing. But instead of the fear of a phantom limb, he feels weightless, like he’s thrown away everything holding him back.

Back from what, he’s not really examining too closely, so for now - well it’s -

The door opens with a ring of the bell and Ginny’s low, warbling hums reach him in the dining area. “Alright Gin?”

“Fu- ” Ginny drops her keys and grumbles, “You scared me, arsehole.”

“I tried not to.”

“Sure,” Ginny drawls, “Now what are you doing here? Please don’t tell me someone was murdered in our kitchen.”

Harry laughs and nearly chokes on his tongue when Ginny presses a kiss to his cheek. “Nah, I’m on holiday.”

“And you’re here.”

“I heard this place has the best garlic knots,” Harry says, following Ginny as she moves toward the combination supply closet and back office.

“Surprised you know how to find this place in daylight,” Ginny teases, jabbing her elbow into his side.

“Arabella’s cats are a bit creepier in the full light.”

“Don’t I know it,” Ginny says, wry, “I think Gingersnap’s eyes follow me.”

“Did you ever ask why a black cat was named Gingersnap,” Harry asks as Ginny opens the safe and pulls the register tray free.

“Maybe Arabella was so bad at making ‘em they always burnt.”

Harry laughs and in the privacy of his mind admits he follows Ginny around like a lost puppy as she preps for the day. So he’s pretty close behind when she turns and tosses a pinny in his face. “If you’re going to hang about at least pull your weight.”

“Where’s Franny?”

“Don’t bring her into this.”

“I just worry after the wellbeing of those in my employ.”

Ginny scoffs. “She’s on holiday from uni, went home to Kent.”

“Just in time to miss London’s lovely Grey Christmas,” Harry laughs, wrapping the apron strings around his middle and glancing out at the looming clouds overhead, the puddle riddled streets.

“Posh boy used to wintering in exotic locales, can’t handle a good ol’ fashioned London winter,” Ginny teases, “Keep your complaining inside and pitch in, put that fit body to good use.”

Shoving Ginny’s shoulder, Harry disappears into the kitchen and begins checking the prepped dough and running down Ginny’s list of morning tasks.

He’s just finished warming up the espresso machine when Ginny returns from her paperwork in the back room. Their gazes lock for a moment and Harry feels like he’s been caught out at something, not that he was even doing anything. Except perhaps daydreaming a bit about Ginny returning his sad secret feelings and ending their usual teasing banter with snogs instead of flicks to the nose.

But it seems Ginny is not clairvoyant, or at least not owning it quite yet when she says, “S’nice having you around. I actually get paperwork done before eleven at night.”

“Well,” Harry takes a deep breath and ruffles his hair, “Get used to it.”

“Get used to - ” Ginny narrows her eyes and steps closer, “Why?”

“I had a lot of vacation time saved up,” Harry begins, focusing acutely on the grinder, “And I wrapped that case - the human trafficking one,” Ginny nods her understanding and Harry continues, “And so I called in my days and uh. I gave notice.”

She gapes. “You - ”

He puffs out his chest, feeling accomplished at rendering Ginny nearly speechless, “Done. I’m out. That was my last one. Just a few exit interviews after the New Year and then, adios.”

Ginny considers him for a moment, unreadable as she almost seems to reach for him, and then shakes her head. “You’re such a stalker.”

“Excuse me?” Harry yelps with a grin, pressing his palm to his chest.

“Everyone knows you were a Ginny Weasley super fan,” Ginny raises one finger, “And that you had a thing for me back before uni,” Harry flushes as she plows ahead, “Add in the fact that your godfather orchestrated this little ‘surprise’ partnership,” she shakes her head, “You’ve probably been collecting my hair for a doll at your flat.”

“Excuse me, it’s a puppet.”

“How’s my godson slash entrepreneur?” Sirius barks as he pushes the front door open with his hips.

“Working like a dog, paying for any sins I may have ever committed,” Harry growls, hands elbow deep into dough.

Sirius scans him head to toe with an ever-growing smirk, “You’re welcome.”

Harry’s eyebrows shoot high up into his hairline, fists already constricting around the piece of dough he’d been working on. If there’s ever anyone’s fault for what he’s been feeling over the past weeks, the tension and frustration battling in his chest, in his mind, ready to explode in his face the next time she smiles or says something cheeky or simply exists in his presence.

“Don’t start making faces,” Sirius points a finger at him as Harry’s on the verge of snapping back, “I know you when you’re happy. I changed your nappies, don’t you forget that you ungrateful godson of mine.”

And to that Harry doesn’t have much to say. Sirius is right, as much as Harry’d like to deny it.

“So you quit,” Sirius plows on after a pause.

Harry takes a moment then shrugs, “Yeah, it was time, I guess.”

“Good for you. And now - how are things?”

“What do you mean?”

Sirius quickly looks at Ginny absorbed by paperwork and winks, grin, and ultimately nudges Harry.

Harry’d like to send dough spiralling at his godfather’s head.

He’d like that very much indeed.

“There’s nothing there, Sirius,” he mutters.

“Aha,” Sirius snorts. “Then tell me this: if you’re not fueled by sexual frustration right now then why are you groping and playing with that roll of dough like it’s something else?”

Harry feels himself go scarlett, blood boiling in his ears.

“Out. Now.”

“Don’t I get a pizza for my efforts?” Sirius grins.

“Out before I kick you,” Harry barks, wipes his hands on a piece of cloth, ready to take his godfather by the collar before he mocks him even further.

No one pushes his buttons quite like family.

“What about my family discount?”

There’s a freshly baked pizza sliding down the front door as Sirius leaves in a fit of pleased laughter, Harry fuming on the other side of the shop.

“Should I ask?” Ginny raises her head from around the stack of papers, eyebrows raised, pen in her mouth.

“No,” Harry says, clipped, and marches back to his station.

Naturally, they thought hanging a Buy one, get one free sign on their door would be splendid for their business and any small business owner’s drive to build a faithful community around their shop.

It proves, however, that as great this move is for their business, it is also horrid for their poor wrists, as they hurt after rolling pizza after pizza, for their cheeks (Harry fears that fake smiling 24/7 might give him a paresis), and, if everyone’s being fair, for their mental health and general libido levels. It should be noted that tension, as well as flour, can be cut with a knife.

“Think we should hire help?” Harry asks after the upteenth time he coughs on flour.

A relieved sigh, “Thought you’d never ask. We definitely need one of those people that can naturally smile non-stop, know what I mean? Because if I have to grin like a loon for one more customer, I’m officially out.”

Harry scans her closely and pouts a little.

“Would you really?”

“Would I what?”

“You know, leave me?”

She doesn’t spare him a glance, fully concentrated on adding extra cheesy on an already cheesy pizza.

“Are we together now, Potter?”

“Let’s not hide behind those floury fingers, Weasley, I saw you checking out my arse,” Harry huffs, watching her curiously out of the corner of his eye.

Ginny laughs wholeheartedly for a beat, cheese and pizza forgotten.

“Harry, Harry, if that’s how easy it is for a girl to get you, then you must’ve had a million relationships because that bum is super tight.”

Harry feels himself blush, chest warming on the inside.

“So’s - erm, so’s yours.”

“Well, if we’re doing this,” Ginny grins cheekily, “so are your eyes.”

It’s Harry’s turn to grin, he’s very pleased.

“My eyes are tight?”

“Don’t be a prick. Your eyes are pretty,” she sticks out her tongue at him, resuming her pizza making.

A pause, tense and vibrant.

“So is your hair. And your freckles. And the way you look when you’ve got your mind set on something,” Harry mumbles at first but manages to finish in a more confident note, eyeing her from behind his round specs.

Ginny takes a moment for herself, rubs her nose then turns around to look at Harry with the very look he mentioned. That hard, blazing look that starts a fire within him and sends his thoughts twisting and turning into dangerous places.

“Your messy hair, your little smirk when you’re pleased with yourself. You.”

Harry’s completely forgotten about customers trundling in, orders upon orders to be delivered or anything else for that matter. All he has the wit to say is a feeble “oh.”

A wall of tension thickens and threatens to crush them, each staring at the other, each holding their position, feet firmly on the ground, cheeks flushed and hearts beating wildly.

“It’s hot in here,” Ginny remarks, dry.

“Yeah. I know.”

“So bloody hot,” she speaks again, still yet daring.

Harry can hear himself breathe hard, “The - uh, ovens.”

A minute passes and, as it drags its heavy legs to the finish line, Harry hears rather than sees Ginny laugh a bit to herself, throw away the piece of cloth she used to clean her hands and stride over to him.

“Yeah, I can’t handle it. Thought I could, but I can’t,” Ginny sighs and informs the room at large.

“So why are you unbuttoning my shirt?” Harry manages to underline before his brain explodes at the touch of her smooth fingers over the skin of his chest.

“Helping?”

She’s undeterred as she speaks, rather absently while her fingers work every button, one after the other until his shirt lays open and their gazes lock.

Harry barks a laugh, “Try again?”

“You’ve got a spot,” Ginny shrugs, fingers mapping the length of his chest.

Harry closes his eyes, draws in a breath. He lets it out in a shudder.

“So’ve you.”

There’s barely a second between his words and the moment Ginny’s legs lock around him, his hands supporting her on the table top, they’re mouths kissing hard and fast. Kissing, licking, grazing, biting in a tangle of hair and flour and pizza everywhere.

Harry’d like to say something clever and sassy but he’d like to keep kissing Ginny even more. And more. And more until her tongue is in his mouth and her palms moving in circles on his bare chest and his fingers knotted in her ginger hair.

He feels they’re melting into each other, limbs glued together like mold, fire blazing, scorching.

It’s more than any of them can take.

“Move this elsewhere?” Ginny gasps between kisses.

“Do we really have to?” Harry breathes, pants.

“Unless you wanna risk a citation from the Health Department,” she giggles into his ears, giggles that turn into full on laughter when he lifts her in the air, carries her into the pantry, locks the door.

Laughter that turns into moaning when their lips meet again behind closed doors.

[joyfulsongbird]

A Proposal

Orphydice fluff where Orpheus didn’t look back and they officially get engaged. Literally just fluff.

***

Orpheus woke early that morning, early enough that the sun wasn't all the way in the sky, just a small mound on the horizon. He reached a hand out, feeling for the warm body beside his. And to his relief, felt soft hair under his fingers and the soft skin of her cheek. He found himself instinctually doing this every morning until it became a conscious habit. He didn't mind and neither did she. Rolling onto his side, he watched her breathe for awhile. Her eyes closed, he let his soft touch glide over the bridge of her nose, over her eyelashes, across her lips until her eyes fluttered open. She registered him first, smiling at the sight of him next to her.

"It's so early." she murmured, closing her eyes again and burrowing her face into his shoulder. "Go back to sleep."

He hummed out a single note, letting the vibration fill up his bones and flow to hers. She hummed it back, messily, the vibrato flying all over the place. Finally, after a few minutes of silence, Eurydice sat up on her elbow.

"How long until you leave for work?"

He glanced at the clock on the wall, he could just barely make out the numbers. "An hour."

She mumbled out her disapproval at him leaving for work so early, but despite herself, her fingers danced up his bare chest. Leaning in for a kiss, a kiss that lingered and grew and kept them in bed for awhile.

***

He dressed for work quickly, leaving Eurydice wrapped in the sheets, and half asleep again. The woman was anything but a morning person, and it always made him laugh. To watch her nose wrinkle in disgust at the early hours Orpheus found himself waking at and accidentally waking her when he got out of bed. She was quite perceptive of those things for someone who hated early hours, she could sense the slightest change in the temperature of their mattress. The weight of him standing up could wake her in mere seconds.

"G'morning, mister Hermes." Orpheus greeted him at the doorway of the bar.

"Another early shift?" Hermes raised an eyebrow at the sheepish boy as he unlocked the doors. "You and that girl of yours having money problems again? Cause you know me and Persephone are always here to help out, son."

He waved a hand. "No, no, just..." he ran a hand through his hair as they stepped inside the building and looked about like he was afraid someone was listening.

Hermes narrowed his eyes at the boy he'd known since he was a baby, the kid couldn't tell a lie if his life depended on it. "What're you hiding?"

"I'm savin' up for a ring." Orpheus explained quickly. "Two rings actually. Wedding bands. From that antique shop down the block."

Hermes let out a booming laugh, clapping him on the shoulder. "Well, that sure explains quite a lot. Only that girl of yours could drive you to work so hard. And for a trinket."

"It's not just a trinket." Orpheus said, reaching up to the cabinets and taking glasses out. "I feel as if... it might... I just want her to know that she's, y'know, loved. And everyone else to know it too. It means a lot to the both of us."

"You two talked about it yet?" Hermes asked, dragging chairs across the floor to the tables on the floor.

"Marriage, yes. The rings, no." Orpheus said. "I wouldn't buy two rings if I didn't think she's up for the idea. I've heard her call me her husband dozens of times. I've called her my wife before. Half the town thinks we got married in secret. But she doesn't know that's the reason I've been taking early and late shifts even though we're already set for winter."

Hermes leaned against the counter, watching the boy, so in love, so nervous yet confident at the same time. "How long until you've got enough for them?

"'Bout a week." Orpheus shrugged. "They aren't fancy but I wanted to give her something. Something she's never had before. Neither of us got nice things when we were kids, or now, and I just want her to have all good things. I want to give her everything. But I can't. So I'm working really hard to get her this one thing right now."

"You're a good kid." Hermes said, reaching to take Orpheus by the shoulders, holding him at arms length. "I've always known you were a good kid but you turned out so great."

Orpheus blushed. "Thank you, mister Hermes."

Hermes grinned. "Now," he said sharply. "Help me get those bottles from the cellar."

** A WEEK LATER **

"Thank you." Orpheus says to the cashier at the antique shop, he pockets the rings, planning to give them to her as soon as he gets home. He's not supposed to be home for another few hours, but he got off his shift early since Hermes knew exactly what he was planning that day. Gave him his paycheck and sent him on his merry way.

There's a nervous flutter in his stomach, a feeling he's familiar with, the same feeling he has when he sees Eurydice dancing. The same feeling he had when he first saw her.

"Orpheus!" He turns away from their house towards the garden and sees her giving him a wave.

He clambers over the fence.

"Be careful," she warns, walking between the neat rows of plants she's worked so hard on. "Don't want you ruining my hard labor."

She reaches him, pressing a kiss to his lips, lingering for a moment, before pulling back.

"You're home early." She says accusingly. Stepping back, he can't help it admire her. In her jeans and an old t-shirt- probably one of his- both stained with dirt, she's so beautiful. With dirt smeared on her face and forehead, especially right on her nose. He feels the urge to wipe it away and kiss the same spot.

"Hermes let me off early."

"Hm." She, obviously, doesn't believe his weak excuse and walks back to where she had been. "I was just finishing up anyways. Let me grab my basket and get cleaned up, then you get to hear about my awful day."

He laughs following her out of the garden, she's already beginning on her tangent.

"Do you know how many women reside in the dark corners of the trading post? You would not believe. It's like they stand there and wait for specifically me to walk through the doors in order for them to critique and criticize me. I'm pretty sure this whole damn town has a problem with young people getting married because if you'd heard the things they were saying... ugh! You are lucky I did not get in a fistfight today, Orpheus."

She's already in the door, and placing her basket of vegetables on the table. He closes the door behind him, eyes following her and as she paces, placing things back in cabinets as she continues on one of her patented rants.

"One of them literally said I should still be in school. Really. I know I look fifteen but that doesn't mean they have to point-"

His hands reach for her unconsciously, pulling her flat against him. His mouth hovers inches from hers.

"You do not want to kiss me right now," she warns. "I'm hot, I'm bothered, and I smell like a sewage pipe."

"Nah," he says. "I really, really do. I haven't seen you all day."

"Yeah," she agrees, fingers grabbing his belt loops and tugging him closer. "That's your own fault. Leaving so early this morning, barely even kissed me goodbye."

"Don't worry, I'm done with early shifts." He says, though only he knows why. The rings in his shift pocket grow hotter against his chest.

"Good, then I actually get to see you through the hazy mist of the morning when I don't know if I'm dreaming or not."

"You dream about me?"

"Gods, all the time." She laughs. "Except half the time I'm pretty sure it's just you leaving in the mornings but it usually consists of something like this."

Leaning forward and pressing her lips to his, he doesn't hesitate. He knows this route, knows this women. Pressing a kiss to her cheek, to her jaw, winding downwards to her shoulder barely covered by the drooping neckline of her oversized shirt.

If he doesn't do it now, he never will. Pulling back, leaving her slightly annoyed by the sudden stop but without saying anything about it.

"What?" She asks, tugging at the curl by his ear. "Is something wrong? You won't meet my eye."

"I have something for you. Well, for both of us." He takes her hand in his, uncurling her fingers until it's a flat surface and pressing it to his shirt pocket. Her breath catches audibly when she feels the circular feel of the trinkets under the fabric of his shirt.

"Orpheus-"

"Take them out. Come on." He prompts gently. Her fingers tremble as she reaches into his pocket where he usually keeps a few mints. Or a red carnation. She pulls out two rings, made of copper wire wound together into rings.

"I was thinking we could make it official," he says quietly when she doesn't respond, just stares at the rings she holds. "Since everyone already thinks we are married. And not only that, there's also the fact that I really love you and-"

She cuts him off with a kiss. A long, hurried one where neither of them want to pull away. One where both of them forget to breath.

"Gods, what do I even say?" She whispers into his mouth. "Yes? I love you?"

He laughs. "Either of those would suffice."

Their foreheads lean together, they stay silent for a few moments. "We'll have to get the paperwork done before we are officially wed."

"Who'll be our witness?" Eurydice asks, combing her hand through his hair.

"Hermes, perhaps? Or Persephone?" Orpheus suggests.

"I'm sure the other would offended if we asked one."

"So, both then." He says. She laughs wetly, leaning her face against his shoulder.

"I love you."

"I know," he replies promptly. "I love you too."

He takes her hand, which still clutches the rings tightly in her fist, unfolding her fingers again and slipping the ring onto her left hand. She does the same to him. His eyes find her face, she stands there, looking beautiful and frightened and in awe. There is some sort of finality in the way she takes his ringed hand, as if they are having their on private ceremony in the quiet of their home. Without a word, he leans down, gently catching her lips with his own and loosely holds her there. For a long time, neither of them think of speak or think of complications or winter or tomorrow. They stay like this. Stay close, closer, close.

Orpheus only thinks of his wife.

Eurydice only thinks of her husband.

How can two people love each other this much?

The answer isn't simple, but the lovers live in constant fear that their love will burn itself out like a candle with a wick on both ends. Burning maliciously. But what they don't know as they kiss against their front door, is that this kind of rare love is one that dips up and down, yes, but never fades. Not even in death. Not even in mourning. Nor in the darkness or in fear or in resentment, love burns as long as they are just bright enough to make out the other figure in the dark. And even in the darkest night, they can still see just faintest outline of the other to use as a lifeline of hope.