#notice hes holding a paper boat in his right hand btw

[art-o-gant]

spare just one second for me

[hardforbenhardy]

scandal | rogerxfem!reader

summary: you and roger had been married for multiple years and now, and your relationship could not have been going better. or so you believed.

warnings: angst, cheating, basically dickhead!roger

word count: 2.8k

this was the first fanfic i ever wrote for roger, and i must say i’m kind of proud of it! it’s pretty sad but yakno. there’s a lil snippet at the end some may recognise because this oneshot was inspired a lot by the song ���burn’ from hamilton! hope you enjoy :) (it starts as a news article btw)

i’ve decided i will make a part 2 if this gets 100 notes :)

Queens Second Scandal?

Just after the release of the bands hit Scandal, drummer Roger Taylor has been caught getting cosy with a mystery woman, despite being in a 6 year marriage with wife Y/N Y/L/N at the time. With Queen being on hiatus after the Magic Tour of '86, Taylor formed new rock band, The Cross. With the band having been on a 3 month tour of the UK and Germany, his wife was left to her own devices; evidently giving the member free reign of the well-known strip clubs around Germany and nearby cities. Being the 'sex on legs' of Queen, all fans were sceptical of the idea of Taylor finally settling down with marriage and children – seemingly, being correct to do so after pictures have recently been released of the musician leaving a nightspot with one of the workers of a German sex club, arm in arm, getting into a taxi.

You were reluctant to ever marry Roger; marriage was never something you expected to happen in your future, having commitment issues after your first relationship left you single for a majority of your life. Men seemed to be the bane of your existence; every man you had tried to get close to turned out to be lowlife scum who either tried to use you or just turned out to be downright arrogant. So, of course meeting Roger Taylor instantly put you off him; he was cocky, conceited and far too overconfident in his charm and good looks. Yet you could not deny that there was something about him that made him so alluring, meaning you fell very hard very quickly. He proposed on your one year anniversary in the year of '82, by taking you on a romantic holiday to the country you had been wanting to go to for years; Italy. He had it all planned out;

"Roger, you remembered" You breathed, chuckling softly in disbelief that he had done all this for you. You held the delicate, flowy material in your hand, admiring the floral patterns that canvased the dress. You had seen a summer dress in a shop down the street from your hotel a few days before, and obsessed with it the moment it had met your eyes. Your favourite part was the blue floral print; there were bellflowers, bunneras, columbines, desert bluebells, irises, sea hollies – all of which contrasted with the background white. The neck cut was rebelliously low, but you knew it would look ravishing when on your body – it was like the dress was made just for you. There was one problem; it cost far too much for you to afford, and after spending all the money on this trip, you didn't want Roger to have to splash out again. "I thought we agreed it was far too expensive?"

"Y/N, you are the love of my life – I'm always going to splash out on you when I get the chance. And it's our anniversary, you deserve it for being the most incredible girlfriend I could ask for" Roger cooed, making you blush and face the ground, only for Roger to place his hand gently under your chin to lift your head to face his once again. You stared into his piercing, ocean eyes before saying "Thank you" and planting a soft, passionate kiss against his rosy, plump lips.

"Well, go try it on! I want to see my sexy girlfriend in the dress I spent hundreds on" Roger laughed, pushing me into the bathroom to try on the dress. Let's just say, he got to see his girlfriend with the dress for about 5 minutes before it was off again.

He finished the romance-filled day with an evening boat ride down the Grand Canal; the idea having been on your bucket-list since you were a teenager and discovered a thing called romance. Having voiced this to Roger multiple times during late-night drunken conversations and post-sex pillow talks, you weren't shocked he had picked this to be way to end the day. It was more the action after the ride that rendered you speechless. While you turned around to admire the view behind you, Roger had found himself knelt on one knee in front of you, ring box in hand. So of course, when you turned, you were met with the one image you had only dreamt of.

"Y/N, will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?" Those words alone had you hooked and you were sure, in that moment, you wanted to spend the rest of your life with this man. There was nothing that could change that decision.

That was until the events of this morning. After being sent by Freddie down to the studio reception to collect the weekly paper, you didn't quite expect something so disturbing to be plastered on the front page. The paper fell to the ground out of your hand, unable to read on. Your mind repeated the words 'getting cosy with a mystery woman' over and over, completely unable to comprehend what you had actually just read; Roger cheated on you?

Of all the ways you saw your relationship crumbling, cheating was not one of them. Of course you knew Roger was previously known for sleeping around, he was basically a fairground for all the groupies. But he had made it very clear; he would never, ever in a million trillion years cheat on you. And you believed him. You seriously, truly believed him.

You bent down to scrunch the paper tightly in your grasp, before storming up the stairs back into the studio. You threw the door open, your hand clenching tighter and tighter around the news second by second. Unsurprisingly, you immediately drew the attention of everyone in the room; Brian and his current girlfriend were slumped on the couch talking about astrophysics, Freddie was pacing around the room warming up his vocals, John was sat cross-legged on the floor tuning his bass, while Roger sat at his drum kit banging the melody to recently released Scandal. They had all clearly noticed the streams of mascara-stained tears cascading down your cheeks and your increased breathing rate as they all stopped in their tracks to look up at you. Though your eyes remained solely on Roger; his head shot up in an instant, stopping the beats he was making to jump out of his chair and make his way over to you.

"Y/N, love, are you okay? What happened?" He fretted, his arms searching up and down your body for any sign of injury or physical harm that may have caused your sudden outburst. John was also quick to his feet, handing you a tissue to wipe away the tears, but you angrily declined telling him to fuck off. Admittedly, John did nothing to deserve such a reaction, in fact he deserved completely the opposite reaction; but you were too choleric to even entertain the idea of being polite to people. "Y/N, what on earth has gotten into you?"

"You said you would never do that to me." I breathed, scoffing at his utter arrogance of the situation. He knew exactly what he had done, and you knew it, but you knew he wouldn't admit it without you confirming you knew. "You promised"

"What are you talking about?" He questioned, furrowing his brows in confusion, looking you up and down. You couldn't bring yourself to say it, knowing you would easily breakdown if they even touched the tip of your tongue. Instead, you shoved the paper harshly against his chest, making him stumble back slightly and grab onto the crumpled paper you had slammed into him. He began to unscrew it open, reluctant as he could see exactly where this was going. His eyes scanned over the first sentence, and you noticed them glass over. "I'm talking about that"

He grasped onto your lower arm, yanking you into the room next to the studio, as to keep the commotion away from the rest of the band; it being a private matter of course. Your anger only grew at the fact he had the audacity to seem irritated at you right now, he was the one who had cheated on you. You stormed to the other side of the room, turning away from Roger as you could barely even look at him. You leant forward on the office desk, hanging your head low as you tried your hardest not to carry on crying. There was a choking silence filling the room, eating away at the tension of the atmosphere, which was quickly broken by Roger. "You seriously believe this? The tabloids always lie, they take every chance they can to twist a story, because it makes them money. Y/N, you know I would never do that to you, I-I love you" His voice cracked saying the three final words, alerting to you Roger wasn't angry – he was ashamed, upset, distraught even.

"Do you? Do you really? Because that German hooker seems to have a different opinion" you spat, turning around to finally face Roger and pointing you finger firmly against his chest. You did your best you could to avoid meeting Roger's sorrowful eyes, but failed miserably when your eyes flickered up to witness tears rolling down his crimson cheeks. You almost felt conscience-stricken and apologetic; how badly you just wanted to give into your wifely instincts and wipe the tears away, caressing his cheek gently and holding him tightly in your arms for comfort. That was until you remember exactly why he was like this. He had betrayed you. Roger urgently lifted the paper back to this view, scanning over the page even more for some kind of indication of what you meant. That's when he saw it:

"[Roger] had spent the whole evening in the club, indulging in the performances and everything we had to offer – he seemed extremely stressed, and was most likely looking for a form of relief that his wife was unfortunately unable to provide at the time" - The worker, seen leaving the nightspot with Roger, has explained – "I had asked, ensured both his wife and him had given full consent before he took me home and we had an eventful evening. I can't deny; he lives up to the expectations of the nickname."

"You told her I had given consent for you to go fuck another woman? Are you out of your mind? She has told the whole world how you brought this girl into our bed. In clearing your name, she has ruined my life. You are always so paranoid how people perceive you – you, you, and you. Never me, never our relationship, never our two children. Did you ever stop to think how this might affect me, how this might affect Felix and Rory?" You cried, struggling to even say the names of your two children.

"Y/N, I swear this isn't how it looks-"                          

"Isn't how it looks? Roger, she made a fucking statement saying you had fucking sex – and you told her it was okay?! How can you say this isn't how it looks?" You sneered, getting closer and closer to Roger every second, only for him to stand there rendered silent. He didn't know what he could say to fix the situation, considering you wouldn't let him get a word in edgeways without having some form of comeback, although he certainly didn't blame you for the way you were acting. Therefore, he let you speak; he let you pour out every emotion before he would even try to make a contribution. "You know, I saved every letter you wrote me. From every single tour; The Game tour, Hot Space, The Works, even the Jazz tour when we weren't even dating. And from the moment I read each one, I knew you were mine – you said you were mine. D-do you know what V said when we saw your first letter arrive? She told me how she could see how much you truly loved me, apparently John called it to. Told me to be careful, he'll do what it takes to succeed. I re-read each of those letters every single night when you would be out recording, or drinking with the boys, or doing a press conference. I was scanning and searching for answers in every line, for some kind of sign, that you still loved me. You want to know why I believe it, why I believe her? Because for the past year, you barely ever put the effort in. You were never home; you would turn down sex way too often for someone with the nickname 'sex on legs'; you always found excuses for me to stay home while you hung out with guys; y-you took every chance you could to sleep on the couch; we'd argue way more than usual. That's why I believe it. Because as I kept falling in love with you every day, you started falling out of love with me" Your voice was barely above a whisper with your last words, the tears you had been holding back finally taking their course, joining the other stale tears you cried when you first read the paper less than 10 minutes ago.

"Y/N, baby, no please don't think that. I love you, I love you so much. I will always love you with all my heart, nothing can change that. Not the boys, not the boy's wives, and certainly not some German prostitute."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Look, it's a long story and I can't explain it all right now, please can we just go home and we can sit down and have a proper talk about it all" He tried to comfort you, rubbing your upper arms slowly and caressingly. But those words alone stood you frozen.

"So you did do it? You slept with her? God, why did I ever trust you? From the moment I met you, I knew I would want to spend my life with you in some way or another. A-and when you proposed, on that boat ride in Italy, I knew for sure the way I wanted to spend my life with you was married, getting a family, living together – you know whole shebang. I thought it was too good to be true, and it turns out it was. I'm erasing myself from this narrative; let the journalists wonder how Y/N reacted when you broke her heart. Roger, the world has no right to my life; they have no right to our bed. And when the time comes, you can explain to the children all the torment and humiliation you put their mother through – when will you learn that they're your legacy; I'm your legacy?" You practically spat, not even feeling a hint of sadness anymore but rather just pure resentment and fury for the man, all the care and love you held for Roger had dissipated. How dare he put you through such distress when all you had done was love and support him through everything he did; he had the audacity to make you feel like you meant nothing to him as if he hadn't spent the last 10 years with you.

"Y/N, please, give me a chance to expla-"

"No, you don't get that chance. You lost that chance when you took the girl back to your fucking apartment and fucked her fucking brains out." You breathed, before shoving past Roger's paralysed body, approaching the door. You were almost resistant to walk out, considering you knew all the boys would be sat out there – most likely having heard the conversation that had just took place taking into account you weren't exactly quiet through any of it. The only thing that tipped you over the edge was the fact you could not stay in the room any longer with that cheater. You turned to face Roger one more time, seeing him stood there more fragile than you had ever seen before, before pulling your ring off your finger and placing it on the table that was beside you. Roger's eyes widened at the sight, tears pricking his eyes once again as his breath hitched in his throat. "N-no, please, keep the ring on, don't take it off."

"Hey, Rog, at least she got a good orgasm though" You mumbled, sarcasm running sharply through your tone before opening the door.

"Y/N, please no. Y/N wait-"

And with that, you were out the door.

[do-what-the-knight-tells-you]

Elements from the Broadchurch novelization that were of particular interest::

- Ellie is a bit uncomfortable returning to work because her “suit feels strange after three weeks in a bikini and sarong”. You go get it, Ellie. Anyone wanting to write confident-and-body-positive-knows-she’s-got-dem-curves Ellie, here’s your semi-canonical backing. mother of two, rockin’ a bikini. Excellent.

- Although the division of work/responsibility between her and Joe worked for them, Ellie Worries that ppl will “think he is emasculated”, or that he will begin to feel “emasculated”, so while “the other wives are on the phone begging their husbands to come home in time to put the kids to bed, she is virtually throwing him out of the house and into the pub”, really trying to encourage him to hang with the guys or whatever, whenever the opportunity presents itself.

- Hardy is already on the edge when we first see him, talking to the farmer whose tractor has had its gas siphoned. He’s carefully staying away from the edge of the cliff, scared it’s going to induce vertigo and heart palpitations.

- The sections that are a close POV on Hardy have way more detail about the Sandbrook case than was originally clear in S1 (I assume, because the book was published after the bulk of the writing/story construction stuff was finished for S2). For instance, When Hardy is first inspecting Danny’s room, he’s struggling, trying not to think about [Pippa]’s room (she’s not named here, but it’s clear that’s the child he’s referring to). in the midst of this turmoil, he notices the height measurements on danny’s doorframe, and is overcome by the realization that there will never be any more above them. And then there are these heart-wrenching sentences: “For some people, tears dam behind the eyeballs. But when Hardy wants to cry, he has to hold them in using the back of his throat. He sometimes feels it’s the only strong muscle in his body.” yeah, c’mon, just fuck me up.

- Maggie being into women is present from the beginning here! She has a partner, Lil, whom we see/meet several times! First time she is referenced is when Rev. Paul Coates invites Maggie and everyone to that first church service about Danny. She mentions that a predecessor of his made it clear she was unwelcome there, once. He assures her that’s not him, and that she is welcome, and Lil too. She says something like “as it should be, “ and ends the convo without indicating whether or not she will come. Excellent.

- At one point the inside of Ellie’s car is compared to the inside of a bin/trash can, with empty cans and food wrappers strewn about. This further reinforces my theory that Ellie and Alec need each other to balance out their eating habits to something actually healthy. He eats very well, as far as nutrition is concerned, but he just sort of stops eating when there is work to be done. She is going to eat, goddamnit, come hell or high water, but it is plenty likely to be anything from an entire loaf of bread to whatever the vending machine has. It’s a wonder neither of them has died of malnutrition. (she also makes mention that she’s lost weight, in a probably unhealthy way, by the end of the investigation, and has a sudden realization that she’s maybe kind of, turning into Hardy).

- End of Chapter 17, Ellie offers a hand to help Hardy in or out of a boat, he has a realization “unexpectedly painful” that he cannot remember the last time he held a woman’s hand.

- In general the poor bastard really is constantly on the edge of vertigo and panic attacks.

- Reminds me again, whatever did happen with Ellie’s sister??? did we ever see any kind of furtherance or resolution of her gambling issues in the later seasons?

- Oh Shit. “I didn’t take your money.” The money Joe gave Danny, that SOCCO found taped beneath his bed, that was Ellie’s holiday money, and she assumed her sister had stolen it. Shit. What a shitbag.

- One of Hardy’s favorite things about Tess was the ability to come home, throwing last minute ideas and theories at each other, being able to pass idle thoughts back and forth, turn them over, hear them in a new light, and see what they grow into. (incidentally, exactly what he’s developing with Ellie)

- The exchange between Alec and Ellie after SOCCO Brian hits on her is great here as well. She giggles, he asks her why, she figures she needs to share this with someone, and tells him. she thinks “his face froze in another one of his Does-Not-Compute expressions”. So he seems just as weird to her as to us, does a terrible job hiding the awkward nerd within. And she totally thinks it’s cute. Bet me. Goes on to think, after they talk about SOCCO having dirty hands, “ ‘Dirty Brian’, Hardy says, with a playful roll of the ‘R��� ”. They’re totally playing with each other and it’s adorable. “She thinks to herself that it’s the first moment of genuine humor they’ve had between them, so of course she immediately messes it up.” asking about Sandbrook.

- Oh Shit, Jack’s wife shows up at his funeral. hides her identity the entire time, and Spits in Karen-the-reporter’s face before she gets in a car and disappears again.

- Hardy has a panic attack after calling Daisy and giving up for the night. “I can’t do this, Hardy hears himself say, and the words are followed by an agonizing pain, a huge fist squeezing his heart to the bursting point. He staggers back until he hits a wall, and slides helplessly down it. Hardy assumes his childhood comfort position, knees pulled up to his chest, so close that he can rest his chin there. Experience tells him that he can hold this pose for hours and hours. He remains motionless amidst the debris of his investigation until his heart rate returns to its version of normal. By the time he gets up with a low wheeze and click of joints, it is dark outside.”

- Ellie calls Joe to say she’s still stuck at her desk and she’ll be late, on the night Susan Wright is arrested. He says it’s okay, but she can hear in his voice that it is not. (So, is that the last straw? she keeps staying late, it’s clear that this shit is going to drag on forever, and his family and life are NOT going to return to normal, no matter if he keeps getting away with his crime? And this is the window, his only window maybe, where she might be too busy to intercept if he confesses? This is the opportunity to confess to Hardy, and not her?) because very shortly thereafter (and leaving his kids alone and unwatched???) they receive the call from Danny’s mobile, and they catch him out at the cabin... and holy shit, even knowing it’s her (and he must know it’s her), he slams the cabin door open into her face, probably hard enough to beak her nose, and then minutes later shoves her to the ground so hard the reader spends a moment wondering if she’s broken her wrist.

- AND THE FUCKER TENDERLY PICKS GRAVEL OUT OF THE CUTS THAT NIGHT

- (if someone wanted to write an AU, one where he is also injured that night, and his failure to hide that injury tips her off the next day, or that night, and so she is the one to put together the pieces.... and arrest him? god that would be heartbreaking. But perhaps would enable a situ where she doesn’t beat the shit out of him in custody, thereby invalidating his confession, so that shit actually sticks...)

- When Hardy gives the interview to Maggie and Ollie, the book makes it clear that he expects his confession of being cheated on is going to cause them to regard him with pity and shame. He is embarrassed to have been cheated on. He calls himself a cuckold in his head. poor bastard. so confused when they respond with empathy and admiration for him, and disapproval and dismissal toward his wife.

- Happily, an answer to the argument Jack saw, between the Postal worker and Danny. Turns out, the punk had had his truck keyed, and knew Danny on his paper route was one of the only ppl who would have been out and about at the right time of night/morning to have done it. he confronted Danny, and that’s what Jack witnessed. He comes clean to the police towards the end, insists that that is as far as it ever went, and admits that he lied because he was afraid that having had that argument, having had sort-of-a-motive, that would make him a suspect.

- Fuck, I mean, we all know Joe is dangerous, but talking Danny back off the cliff and back into the house consciously with his paramedic voice, with the kind of experience and calm honed over years of professional work... goddamn, so many ways in which he had power over young Danny.

- The moment she believes Joe could have done it. She says it can’t have been him, because the boat was burned while she was away. He would have had to leave the kids alone while he did it, and he would never take that risk. Hardy confirms that he did, that he left them, and Ellie (immediately believes Hardy, btw) finally truly understands that the moral partner she’s been building a family with no longer exists, if he ever did in the first place.

- Hardy briefly considering telling Ellie about Tess, to empathize with her pain and betrayal, and immediately knowing the situations are too different to be useful. being disappointed in himself for having thought it. pulling on every little bit of experience and training he’s ever had to try to get through the conversation.

- Oh shit. the slug trails. the slug. that little bit of symbolism didn’t feel established in the tv series, she just squishes a slug the last time she enters the house. but in the novel, her merry war trying to find the slug is a constant recurring thing, seeing the trails on the carpet, but never able to find it, the thing only coming out when they’re asleep, Joe cleaning up the slug trails after they come back from vacation. Her staring at them in despair as she cries into the carpet one night, over Danny. and then, after Joe has been revealed, she comes home and there the bastard is, big fat slug that’s been lurking in her house all this time, sitting, glistening, in plain sight. and she squishes the hell out of it. And I was so caught up in the story that, even though I BEEN KNEW how it was gonna end, I never picked up on the fucking foreshadowing until that last moment. Am I just dense, or is it just good storytelling? XD

[gurguliare]

this is the longest chatlog, catie and emma have to read all of it

Em: poor lin shu all ‘i loaned the book to jingyan but it’s fine he never notices anything - wait SHIT these are VERY PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE DESSERT BOXES.’ Gogol: yes Gogol: i love the idea of like Gogol: baby lin shu horrible at observing his own dietary requirements Gogol: consort jing unfortunately has NO CLUE as to the myriad of new dietary requirements he has developed Gogol: since being poisoned. Gogol: just thousands of thrilling intolerances to ignore Em: he doesn’t have a digestive system anymore, he donated it to fei liu Gogol: yes Em: i do genuinely want btw Em: telepathic jingyan fic Gogol: and then there's his allergy to "air colder than room temperature," and "walks"---NO IT'S SO GOOD Em: telepathic jingyan and it doesn’t help Gogol: i meant to compliment you on it did i not. absolute perfection Gogol: i love it presumably because all the thoughts are like. exactly what mei changsu is saying with his mouth, but meaner Gogol: interspersed with occasional comments on jingyan's hair Gogol: it's not that mei changsu is any more conniving or ruthless than lin shu was. he just doesn't swear enough. Em: right literally that Em: lin shu: says exactly what mei changsu says, but adds ‘you stupid fucking water buffalo’ at the end of every third sentence Em: jingyan: i know that i am on the right path, because the spirits of the honoured dead are with me Em: mei changsu: ...right. Em: lin shu’s ghost, presumably: jingyan you’re so lucky you’re pretty

Gogol: ok but so the most important part of this right is lin shu also hearing jing's thoughts and assuming that this is just a sign of his own incredible perspicaciousness Em: oh my god Gogol: lin shu: my powers of extrapolation know no bounds Gogol: jingyan: uh huh Gogol: lin shu: exactly what he WOULD think! Gogol: my vision is eventually just full outloud conversations intermittently in response to thoughts while everyone around them wonders what the fuck is happening Em: oh please can he overhear. jingyan’s tremendous personal shame at feeling attracted to mei changsu. Em: specifically his shame about ‘desiring’ ‘happiness’ Em: yes definitely also this is exactly how they conversed as adolescents Gogol: YES Em: they have always been like this Gogol: THEY'VE HAD THE TELEPATHIC BOND THE ENTIRE TIME NEITHER HAS EVER QUESTIONED IT FOR A /VARIETY/ Of REASONS Gogol: i like the idea then also that it just has like. a forty mile radius limit or something completely physiological and normal Gogol: so then for the twelve intervening years it was just like Gogol: every so often mcs would go on a dumb adventure near the frontier and jingyan would get weird static and assume he was just, like, insane Gogol: which jives completely with the rest of his experience of those twelve years! so nw Em: oh my god Em: no he doesn’t assume he is insane he assumes he is being HAUNTED Em: the ghost of lin shu is yelling at him about flute boats Gogol: --ok Gogol: point Gogol: he would recognize the voice. Gogol: it's not like lin shu was ever on-topic in life. Gogol: this does raise the weird question of whether mcs' internal voice sounds like lin shu or mcs Em: ...I want to say lin shu Gogol: ia and i think the rest of the series bears you out on this lol, not to spoil except you've ALREADY READ ALL MY SPOILER PLAINTS Gogol: his is not a fast-adapting mind Em: on the other hand ‘i have been hearing your voice in my head for twelve years what the fuck’ has a certain charm Gogol: omg. yes. v different fic though Gogol: mcs: gives prepared speech about wading through a river of blood. jingyan, frowning in great concentration: six years ago did you once spend an hour trying to get a cat to let you rub its belly Em: i’m on episode twenty nine and I can already tell that mcs is PAPER thin Em: as a personality Em: lin shu: who are you Em: mcs: i’m you but slower Em: ...I feel like ‘I’m you but slower’ is probably the best characterisation opinion i’m going to have on this show Gogol: it's VERY GOOD. Em: related: jingyan has his suspicions about mcs but changed his mind after they started sleeping together. this man is clearly not lin shu. lin shu never had sex lasting longer than six minutes. Em: he tried but he got bored. Gogol: to be fair mcs falls asleep sometimes but that is because of his illness Gogol: it would be churlish to hold him to blame Em: jingyan is just. very boring in bed. Em: very tender. very sincere. likes prolonged eye contact. Gogol: the thing is i imagine that he and lin shu legitimately had a lot of fun, ill-advised, death-defying sex which doubled as just, like, you know, resilience testing for the product, but i also assume that jingyan has NO IDEA how to dick down an ~invalid Gogol: and is constantly thinking about this Em: asdfghjkl Em: all the time Em: thinking about it Em: which brings me back to Em: their telepathic bond Gogol: FUCK Em: jingyan: please advise me, sir su. Em: mcs: goes ahead and gives him sex advice for the question he was thinking instead of political advice for the thing he said. Em: or, no Em: jingyan comes to believe Em: that the ghost of lin shu is telling him how to bone this invalid Gogol: "i have his blessing!" Em: his detailed and specific blessing and his recommendations for positions and creative use of supportive pillows Gogol: "i can't believe i have his blessing. truly the dead must be incapable of love, or i lost his love through my slowness in seeking justice." Gogol: wait no i don't think jing is THAT dumb but i do feel like he would be a little resentful about "ghost" lin shu pushing him into mcs' arms, whether because he thinks the ghost is a hallucination and just a weaker way of telling himself what he wants to hear OR because lin shu's invasiveness about his love life was always annoying Gogol: anyway, whatever the case, best love triangle. Em: jingyan tenderly making love to mcs in a faintly resentful way because he’s annoyed lin shu insisted on getting involved in his love life is a beautiful image Gogol: YES Gogol: mcs: finally. that's the stuff Gogol: then: ow. turns out he talks big but doesn't actually enjoy his nonexistent biceps being SQUEEZED, what are they, barbarians Em: jingyan to mcs: sometimes i wish xiao shu was less involved in my love life Gogol: mcs presumably a baby about hair-pulling---fjdkslJGL:KSGOD... THE THING IS THIS IS SO. CLOSE TO THEIR. CANON CONVERSATIONS ABOUT "XIAO-SHU" Gogol: we really have just hit on a deeper vein of canon i think Em: I think all I really want is for jingyan to lovingly wrap mcs in a blanket and just. keep wrapping. Em: burrito him good Em: and carry him somewhere nice and quiet Em: and let him do his scream therapy until he tires himself out and goes to sleephappy ending Gogol: i would love for mcs to be nonharmfully sat on Em: unfortunately it’s impossible Em: his bones would snap Em: the ghost of lin shu has warned jingyan about this. mcs must always be on top. but he cannot be expected to do any work. jingyan had better practice his crunches. Em: shut UP xiao shu, says jingyan, out loud. their telepathy is functional over a medium distance. mcs isn’t even in the room. Em: lin shu, half a mile away, glances up from his tea and remarks: ah. prince jingyan feels frustrated just now. i deduced that. Gogol: the one question i then have is. who or what does mcs think "lin shu's ghost" is Em: oh he. doesn’t notice. Em: he’s just talking to jingyan, what about it. Em: ‘but jingyan is behaving strangely’ is he? he seems pretty normal. Em: until of course. jingyan confesses the truth to him. because he’s worried that either he is truly insane, in which case maybe? mcs shouldn’t make him emperor? or! he is perpetually haunted by lin shu telling him to do things! Em: in which case mcs DEFINITELY shouldn’t make him emperor Gogol: oh my god Gogol: fuck Gogol: SORRY JUST THE VISION OF Gogol: jingyan earnestly explaining to mcs that lin shu was his dear friend and could in no way be trusted with a nation Gogol: sure he wasn't capable of TREASON Gogol: but ANYTHING ELSE Em: yes exactly Gogol: anything, sir su. he once hid our baby cousins in an unused oven Em: just now his ghost told me SO WHAT Gogol: IT WAS UNUSED!! Gogol: said his ghost. you see my issue, mr su. Em: sir su, he is a man who even after twelve years of death can not understand why you do not put children in an oven Gogol: he is also extremely narcissistic, as demonstrated by the fact that he keeps responding to questions directed at you Em: and i am incapable of refusing him Gogol: and he is incapable of not exploiting my devotion, as evidenced by the fact that he just yelled, GOOD. Gogol: ....with your mouth. oh! that i would see the day my old friend sank to possessing the living! Em: this is the only au where lin shu sits jingyan down and explains the truth in small simple words Gogol: this is my favorite au.

[edwardfuckasshands]

Night Out

Pairing: Underswap!Papyrus/Mettaton (Papyton) Summary: Napstaton drags their cousin out for a night at a club they regularly visit. They somehow get separated, and Mettabot finds comfort in a rather laid-back skeleton monster. Genre: Friendship, blooming romance, comfort, one shot. Notes: I wanted this to be a comic, but I can’t draw. It took me far too long for me to figure out I could just... write it instead.

“Can ya hear me, babe?”

Nightclubs weren’t really Mettabot’s cup of tea-- especially the ones with music capable of shaking the drink out of his hand. His pink jacket would either get caught on some monster’s clothing or tugged on, he’d get weird stares when his cousin strayed from his side, and the flashing lights and blaring noises made him feel overwhelmed fairly easily. His cousin clad in a blue puffer vest and backwards baseball cap of the same color made the experience more bearable, but they only helped so much.

Mettabot nodded his head, figuring any verbal response would be drowned out by the thumping music.

“All right, cool!” They flashed him a bright smile. “I’m gonna go on ahead and sign some stuff, a’ight? Those guys-” they gestured behind them towards a group of impatient-looking monsters and humans. They stood near the back of the club across from the bar, and from such a distance, they looked like props that’d been drowned in the heavy darkness and occasional colorful light. “-will probably eat me alive if I don’t give ‘em what they want.” They were joking, but Metta couldn’t help but take them somewhat seriously. “I don’t need you caught up in that, so jus’ chill over here, m’kay?”

Seeing as he didn’t really have a choice, he gave them a more confident nod and watch as they sauntered up to the overly-excited group of fans. It wasn’t long before another unrelated crowd on the dance floor blocked his vision of them, and although it was inevitable, he couldn’t help but feel lost without someone’s theoretical hand to hold.

Sighing quietly, Mettabot sat down on the nearest bar stool and asked for his drink to be refilled. Despite it being non-alcoholic, the sweetness took his mind off of everything. Even the shaking floor and terribly rude humans were nearly drowned in liquid sugar and cherries.

That is, until someone took a seat beside him.

Mettabot about leaped from his chair when he noticed someone next to him. He couldn’t be sure as to how long they’d been there since he just turned to face that direction. He prayed for him to go about his way, order a drink, check his phone, etc. Oh, but of course they had to meet eyes!

Or, in his case, eye sockets.

A tall, tired-looking, obviously thin skeleton wearing an orange hoodie and olive pants smiled at Mettabot and gave him a little wave. Not wanting to be rude, he did the same back, to which the other reached into his hoodie’s front pockets and produced a small pad of paper plus a pen. He scribbled something down and slide it across the table to the other, along with the pen.

“you OK?” It read in sloppy handwriting.

It really was too late for Metta to ignore the guy after that point, so he chose to play along for the time being. If something went wrong, he could always dart over to his cousin.

“I’m fine. Why?”

“ya look real shaky. like yer about ta fall over.”

Did he?

“I really am all right. Just not used to loud noises.”

“dude i feel u. ya want sum earplugs?”

“Do you really have some with you? Why?”

“y not?”

Sure enough, the last message was sent over with a pair of orange earplugs. He had a feeling they’d never been used, seeing as skeletons don’t really have ears, but he remained hesitant on using anything given to him by a stranger-- with things going into him being most questionable.

“Thank you, but I said I’m fine.”

“i understand. i just noticed you looked a little overstimulated, you know? i get that way at these sorts of things too, but my bro LOVES yer cousin over there.”

So they were stuck in the same boat, essentially. Two monsters with energetic family members who drag them all over the place.

On a new sheet of paper, the skeleton sent another note over.

“i’m papyrus, btw. nice to meet you, napstaton’s cousin.”

“I’m Mettabot. It’s nice to meet you too.”

“i like the way you dot your i’s with little hearts”

Had he really been doing that the whole time? Judging by his writing, that’d be a definite ‘yes.’

Papyrus rested his chin on his hand while awaiting a response. Metta simply couldn’t bring himself to write anything else after having that pointed out. What was he, a babybot?

“I didn’t mean t’ make ya feel bad,” Papyrus somehow said over the loudness of the club in a soft, non-intrusive voice. “I just thought it was cute.”

“N-No, it’s fine.... I’m not used to all.... this..... so I’m a little on edge.”

Papyrus closed his sockets and nodded. “I get it. You don’t get out much either, huh?”

Metta shyly nodded his head.

“Yeah, me either. Staying inside is, like, way less stressful. I don’t gotta worry about smuggling any drinks with me, either.”

“Oh... you didn’t... bring your own drinks.... did you?”

“Nope.” From his pocket, he pulled out a bear-shaped bottle of honey. “S’not a drink. Condiments don’t count.”

He wanted to say something while Papyrus ‘drank’ his honey, although he wasn’t wrong.

Probably.

“In all seriousness, are you really okay? You must be sick of me saying and writing it out, but that’s not gonna stop me from repeating myself.”

“It’s okay... I told you I’m fine, though..... Just jumpy...”

“Babe!”

Speaking of being jumpy, a sudden voice almost made Metta’s ghost fly out of his body. Sure enough, such a confident tone could only come from his cousin, who looked a little rough around the edges, what with his hair being more messy than usual.

“Hey, you know those folks I was chatting with? They wanna meetcha!”

Oh no.

“C’mon, it’ll be great! They’re hella nice, I swear.”

“I, uh... well..... I.....”

“Buddy, we’re havin’ a nice conversation here.”

Napstabot’s cheerful smile nearly turned to a scowl when Papyrus piped up. However, they attempted to keep up appearances the best they could. Being in public, they couldn’t go off on someone so easily.

“Oh yeah?” They turned their attention to the skeleton. “You’re treating him real nice, right? Because I’d hate to hear about someone making him uncomfortable.”

“Sure.” He pocketed his honey. “We’re just talking about how us introverts need to stick together when our comfort person runs off.”

Oof. That had to hurt, but NTT wouldn’t let it show.

“You’re adults, aren’tcha? You don’t need someone constantly at your side to have a good time.”

“Well.... uh..... Blooky....” Mettabot pulled gently at their jacket. “I’m.... more comfortable over here with Papyrus..... Is it okay if I stay here instead?”

“Y... Yeah, of course!” They reached over to ruffle his hair. “Like I said, you’re an adult. Just do what makes you happy.”

“Thank you... Blooky...”

“No prob, man. I’ll be on stage if ya need me.”

“M-hm.”

With that, they ran off to tend to their responsibilities as a DJ while Metta was left with a racing mind and an empty glass.

“Hey, barkeep. Can I get, uhhh... refill for my friend here?”

Before he could protest, Metta’s empty glass problem vanished in a matter of seconds. Despite him feeling grateful and the like, he didn’t quite know how to react.

“Don’t look at me like that, bud. Can’t a guy buy someone a drink?”

“Of course you can... but..... I’m not sure how to pay you back.... Blook-- Napsta is paying for all my drinks.... I don’t have any cash on me.”

Papyrus scribbled something down on yet another fresh sheet of paper, and handed it to Mettabot without the pen. “Hows about you give me a call sometime? You don’t have to force yourself or anything, but I expect at least a text by next month.”

Metta nodded. He could probably handle a text every now and then to pay off his newfound debt. “No problem.... It’s the least I can do, I think.....”

“Glad to hear it. Now-” he stood up “-I need to grab my bro and head home. He gets kinda grumpy if he stays up too late.”

“Oh.... okay..... I’ll see you later, then...”

A wave and a wink later, Papyrus vanished within the crowd. Metta was worried someone might step on his untied shoelaces while walking, but he moved with a surprising amount of grace for someone so laid back.

Not even five minutes after Papyrus’ leave, Mettabot pulled out his phone and typed in a message for an unfamiliar number.

“Thank you. I hope we can talk again soon.”

[kairiofknives]

Trading Hearts (Part 1)

Summary:  It's been months since Akira won his freedom and saved the world. Now, back in his home town, separated from his friends and girlfriend, Futaba, Akira finds that the place he grew up doesn't necessarily feel like home anymore. Back in Tokyo, Futaba starts to piece together that Akira isn't exactly happy with his change in scenery. She resolves to do what she can for the man who changed her life, whether he is aware of this endeavor or not.

Warning: Spoilers for end of game

Read on AO3

Sometimes Futaba wondered why she or Kana-chan ever wanted to go back to the eternal prison of damnation and lack of intelligent thought that was high school. It was a societal norm that functioning members of society attended high school before acquiring more practical real life paths to take, but the longer she spent here, the more she was convinced that this was merely slow method of torture than a useful method of learning anything.

She'd seen much weirder things to be certain.

To: Kana Banana

The true meaning of survival of the fittest is he/she who can get through high school without offing themselves. I'm convinced.

To: Phantom Leaves (group)

What even is the point of first year biology? Almost none of this falls within the realm of actual science. I would know.

From: Kana Banana

Your school doesn't seem to do too well on that front then.  No offense.

From: Skull Bash in Phantom Leaves (group)

Ur doin better than I did already Futaba. I didn't even know what subject I was in half the time.

From: Cafe Noir in Phantom Leaves (group)

Should you not all be paying attention? :)  You wouldn't want me to tell Mako-chan, would you? :) :) :)

From: Skull Bash in Phantom Leaves (group)

!!!!

Suffice to say, Futaba was bored. Starting high school had seemed like a tremendous first step towards getting herself to be normal again. Sure, she'd be a grade behind, but at least she had a path to start moving down. It was almost laughable that she was managing to sit in a classroom full of students, after taking a crowded train to get here, and wasn't freaking out at all. A year ago, leaving her room was an impossibility. Now, she felt the smallest tinges of panic when people pressed on her too hard on the train, got a bit sweaty when strangers talked to her for too long, but neither feeling was enough to derail her day. She felt like a real life person most of the time now and it was all because of...

From: Key Item

As long as you're getting good test scores, it doesn't really matter if you pay attention in class.  Word of advice though: beware of flying chalk. It's got a 90% chance of critical.

...a wonderful, adorable nerd who always knew how to make her day better.

To: Key Item

Gasp! I'll make sure I put my best armor on then. Thanks for the intel. Btw, aren't you supposed to be slaving over a midterm paper?

She couldn't help but grin to herself. One of her biggest worries starting this year had been that despite the massive amounts of support she knew she could get from the other members of the now disbanded Phantom Thieves, Akira Kurusu had moved back to Kyoto to finish out high school in his hometown. She would always credit her revival from the corpse of her previous self as a victory for the entire group, but it was truly Akira who had stayed with her every step of the way. His warm presence by her side made pushing herself out of her comfort zone not only less scary, but infinitely more rewarding. They'd spent countless hours cultivating their bond both between one another and with Sojiro. Sojiro, Akira and Morgana were her family. And the Phantom Thieves were the perfect extension to that family. She would have been more than content to stay in that perfect bubble of happiness forever.

Alas, after saving the world multiple times and nearly dying for the sake of doing so, Akira had finally been granted the freedom he so deserved and was finally free to resume the life that had been stolen from him by Shido. Futaba had been gutted to know Akira would be leaving, but no matter how much she wanted him to herself, she knew he deserved the chance to try to put his "normal" back together, the same way she was trying to fix her "normal".

Still, it sucked pretty bad to have to start one of the potentially scariest steps in her life without her combo best friend and boyfriend there to cheer her on.

As soon as concrete plans had been made with regards to Akira returning to Kyoto, Akira had insisted that if they intended to keep dating, they had to tell Sojiro. Futaba had suspected that perhaps her loving boyfriend had developed a death wish, but agreed anyway. She had envisioned having this conversation with her adoptive father many times, and each had ended in some sort of disaster.

Thus, she had been thoroughly shocked when Sojiro's reaction was to sigh and grumble "I don't like the idea of Futaba dating in general, but if it has to be anyone, I guess I couldn't have picked someone better." They had hashed out rules concerning their alone time and curfews while Akira was still in town, but Sojiro made it very clear that Akira was still a treasured part of their family and was still welcome at LeBlanc if he was ever in town. Needless to say, there was hardly a dry eye in the room.

So they had kept dating. The concern that they'd drift apart was a valid one, but luckily both of them were good about keeping up with Skype dates and keeping in contact via text and phone calls. High school had been going better than expected, the old Phantom Thieves group was still super close, having dinner at LeBlanc every Sunday, and her relationship with Akira still felt just as fun and relaxing as ever. All in all, Futaba really couldn't complain about her current life situation.

From: Key Item

Procrastination nation. Don't worry about it. It'll get done.

From: Key Item

How is that computer building project coming along?

...with one minor exception.

It hadn't seemed like such a big deal at first. She wasn't even really sure there was an issue in the beginning. But the more they talked, the more she started to realize that Akira did not want to talk about himself, at all. She could go on and on for days about every little detail of her own life, down to even absolutely insignificant things like that one time Sojiro bought almond milk, and Akira would always stay attentive. But anytime she directed these questions back at him, asking about his school or town or even what he did with his free time anymore, she was met with vague answers and then a swift redirection of conversation back to herself.

Fueled by the intrinsic desire to be connected to Akira's life in a more reciprocal fashion, Futaba began her newest mission: decode the life of Akira.

To: Key Item

What are you doing after school today?

From: Key Item

Nothing. Why?

To: Key Item

That's weird. You did so much stuff here like every single day. You'd better not be holding back on having fun just so we could talk!!

From: Key Item

I promise I'm not doing that.

From: Key Item

I'm still free though.

To: Key Item

...alright. Do you wanna Skype? Usual time?

From: Key Item

Sounds great.

Futaba sighed. This was going to be slightly harder than she had originally anticipated. That was fine though. She'd grab some intel from the friend group and then prepare her counterattack.

~~~~

"Hey, Ryuji. How often do you and Akira talk?"

Ryuji paused in his desperate destruction of what might have been a sandwich at one point, chewed thoughtfully, then spat "rrvydy, hy?"

Ann scrunched up her nose in distaste, scooting away from the boy in mock offense. "Eww. Stop. Please be like a normal human being for like ten seconds?"

Ryuji gulped loudly, smacking his lips, "Whatever floats your boat, Ms. Princess." He received a warning glare. "Fine, fine. Anyway, yeah, we talk on and off basically every day, why?"

Futaba fidgeted a bit, playing with the leftover rice from the curry Sojiro sent with her to school for lunch today. "I don't know. Anything seem off about him to you?"

This got Ann's attention. "Off, how Futaba?"

Futaba shook her head a bit, "it may be nothing, but it feels like he's avoiding talking to me about his own life right now? And I was wondering if you guys noticed it too."

"Oh man, I think I know what you mean!" Ryuji exclaimed, gesticulating wildly with filthy hands. "Once, I asked him if Kyoto had any good arcades. And he sent me a Google search instead of telling me about it himself. Like, what?"

Ann nodded, "I've never noticed it myself, but it doesn't seem completely out of his character. I mean, he never really wanted to talk about himself, even when he was here."

Futaba considered this for a moment. "He definitely would talk about himself to me, maybe not...full life story all the time, but he would tell me who he had been hanging out with and what he'd been up to. Now I can't even get that out of him. I'm wondering if something isn't wrong..."

Ryuji scoffed, "Naw man, ya know, I bet he's just trying to not make us miss him too much. I know I'd feel like shit if he was constantly going on and on about how much better his home is than here."

"Why?" Futaba asked, a bit upset by Ryuji's response, though glad he'd be that honest. "He has to stay there for a year. Don't you want him to enjoy that year? If he wants his life to go back to normal, I want him to succeed in that quest, ya know? I mean, he's done so much for us. Doesn't he at least deserve that...?"

Ryuji leaned back, slightly surprised. "Alright, alright, calm down Futaba. Geez. Didn't you know you were Akira's number one defender..."

Futaba blushed. While both Sojiro and Morgana knew of her and Akira's relationship, they had not told the rest of the group as of yet. She often wished she could, but they had agreed that they wanted to see how things went before getting the group all excited about this. After all, it would seriously suck if they told everyone then broke up...

A comforting hand settled on her shoulder. "I agree, Futaba," Ann smiled, "Knowing Akira he probably wouldn't wanna risk burdening us too much whether it be with good or bad information. And honestly, it could just be that he has nothing to say. After all, life now compared to life 6 months ago is really boring."

Futaba nodded, sulking. She didn't care if he was having the best time ever in Kyoto or had nothing to talk about except the A tier naps he and Morgana had been taking. She just wanted to be able to share whatever their mutual lives were like equally since they couldn't be together living the same life anymore.

Ann sighed, then offered, "let's shoot a private message to Makoto. She was talking about bothering him about his college plans awhile back. Maybe she'll have an opinion for you."

Futaba glanced up at Ann, and smiled, thankful for such understanding friends. "That sounds awesome, thanks."

With that, the first warning bell signaled that lunch was basically over. Hopefully, Makoto would answer before she Skyped Akira tonight.

~~~

She had luckily managed to snag a seat on the train ride home and was settling in to read a book when her phone chimed. It was Makoto. Futaba praised the God that blessed their friend group with such a capable and efficient Mom Friend.

Actually, they may have killed that God....hmm...

From: Dream Queen

Hey, Futaba. In reference to what Ann asked me about, I have noticed that Akira is acting a bit strange. I did end up talking to him about college entrance exams and apparently he isn't currently planning to take any. He wouldn't give me a complete answer but what I pieces together is that the issue is a combination of not being in the right college prep classes at school, the school staff not taking his desire to go to college seriously, and his father not believing he could pass the exams and thus not wanting to pay for them. Now, keep in mind, he told me very little of this flat out, but from our conversation this was what I could draw conclusions about. Hope that helps.

Futaba's jaw fell open a bit. So, Akira was having troubles and not speaking to her about them. Again. Damnit. She shot a message back to Makoto quickly, needing to process this information before her conversation with Akira.

To: Dream Queen

Thank you so much for the info Makoto. God, he hasn't told me any of this. Not even a little bit of it. It's just like the prison thing...why does he do this?

Luckily, it seemed Makoto was still attached to her phone for the moment.

From: Dream Queen

It's likely a complex answer. I'm sure he thinks sharing this sort of information with us would bother us because we would try to fix it. Sadly, he's right. We will try to fix it. And he should probably just get used to that fact and let it happen.

That made her laugh. Their little group was quite infamous for being overly close and overly protective. Just because Akira was used to doing the protecting didn't mean he was exempt from the protection.

To: Dream Queen

I want to talk to him about this. See if there's anything we can do to help. But I don't want him to deflect me. Any ideas, Ms Prosecutor-Lite?

From: Dream Queen

Let's not call me that. In general, direct questions are more likely to get useable information. If he can purposefully side step a meaning of a question, he seems to do so.

She figured as much. Formulating the right questions might be hard though. She didn't want him to think the decision not to go to college was what she was upset with, so lingering on that topic might not help. Truthfully, she just wanted to know if he was happy and if not, why.

Huh. That might be a good one.

Her phone chimed again.

From: Dream Queen

But being frank, Futaba, I don't think you're going to get straight answers with a screen in between you. Skype may be slightly more effective but Akira is a face to face kind of person. We may not be able to address this until break. And that's perhaps a long shot if he doesn't plan to come to Tokyo for break.

The thought stuck in her head for a moment. Face to face. Midterms were this upcoming week. After Thursday, she wouldn't have class again until Tuesday. Hmmm...now if only...

To: Dream Queen

Do you happen to know Akira's home address?

From: Dream Queen

No, but shouldn't Boss? He did have mailed correspondence with Akira's family a bit over the last year.

Perfect.

To: Dream Queen

Thanks Makoto. You're the absolute best. I'll tell you what I'm thinking of doing tomorrow.

From: Dream Queen

Anytime dear. Hope it goes well :)

The train announced that her stop was next and she hopped up, energized and ready to move the plan forward.

~~~

She surveyed her desk space to ensure she had everything she needed. Drink? Check. Bag of chips just in case? Check. Blanket draped over her desk chair? Check. Computer open to Skype? Check. List of questions conveniently out of sight? Check.

She was a bit hesitant to write up the list of questions. Futaba knew there was no way in hell she could link all those questions together coherently without sounding scripted. That was Makoto's thing. But still, Akira was by far the superior conversationalist. She needed some sort of backup if this went south.

She tried to remind herself that this wasn't about only getting answers. Their Skype dates were sacred. It was the closest they got to each other on a regular basis. She needed to find a natural work in for that line of conversation or needed to drop it all together. And besides, she consoled herself, plan B could still work out without this conversation being... productive. No pressure.

She was so screwed.

The sound of Skype's ring tone started up then, and she jumped a bit. She ran her fingers through her hair, pausing to take one huge breath before hitting "answer".

"Hey, Akira."

Her screen slowly resolved into what was becoming a pretty familiar backdrop. The walls were painted a medium shade of blue. All along the back wall, were countless posters. Rock bands, video games, movies, you name it. She fondly remembered their first Skype date, where he explained where he got every single one of those posters. That was the most he had spoken to her about his past since he told her how he got arrested...

The bed was messy, plaid blue comforter thrown across the bed in a half assed attempt at making the bed. She knew for a fact the thin black sheets underneath were bundled up the same as when he first woke up. The only thing in the room messier than the bed was the mop of hair in her line of sight.

"You, my friend, need a haircut," Futaba giggled, earning herself an overly dramatic eye roll and a huff in response. She actually was a fan of the extremely puffy hair, but knew it was getting long enough that his bangs would be hanging in his eyes, which annoyed him greatly.

The lights in his room were off, the only light source being the blueish light from his laptop screen. Futaba didn't try to keep it a secret how much she liked the way his face looked illuminated so minimally like this. The angle of the light showed off features she hadn't paid attention to when they were physically together. Now, she couldn't stop staring at the well defined jawline, sharp cut of his nose, the way his bottom lip was a bit fuller than his top. Maybe there was some truth to the phrase "distance makes the heart grow fonder".

"What's up, hot stuff? You look a bit down."

Akira met her eyes, the ghost of a smile on his face. "I guess I'm kind of tired. Haven't been sleeping well lately."

This was good. Getting right into it. "Aww. How come?"

He paused, staring at something to the left of his screen. For a moment it looked like he was gearing up to say something, but then he simply shook his head. "I don't know. Happens sometimes."

The bags under his eyes told her that it wasn't as simple as a couple bad nights. Still, she knew he probably wouldn't give her an answer on this particular vein of thought just yet, so she moved on. "Speaking of sleep, where is the sleepiest cat in the history of history?"

That got Akira to smile. "My dad got him some catnip at the store the other day. Before I opened it, he swore over and over it wouldn't work on him because he is a human."

Futaba giggled, "let me guess: he went crazier than when he saw particularly nice looking treasures in the metaverse?"

The smile broadened into a smirk. "Babbled nonsense and ran around the house after 'ghosts' all night. It was a true sight to behold. That said: he denies the whole thing now."

"Not surprising. News headline: local cat does cat-like thing. Is disgusted."

Akira chortled, "Very accurate!"

They chatted back and forth for about half an hour about various things, mostly superficial. Still, it served its purpose as a recharge from all the social exhaustion of the week. She was content. But, she did want to ask him one thing.

"Hey, Akira...real quick before we hang up..."

Akira smiled at her, nodded, "What's up?"

"You've been in Kyoto for awhile now. And I guess I just wanted to know..." She paused, looking him straight in the eye, "are you happy?"

Lightning quick, his smile dropped away. For a bit, Akira's eyes darted between the screen, his hands, and the space just to the left side of his computer screen. This sort of frantic defense mechanism was new to Futaba. To her memory, she had never seen Akira cornered before. It only proved that this was a question she needed to have answered...but, an equal need to soothe him also sprung up.

It was a long pause before Akira finally plopped his head down onto his crossed arms and sighed. When he next revealed his face, it was with a soft, "I guess not."

Futaba's heart broke at the despair in his tone. Her voice was just as soft, "Is being back home not what you thought it would be?"

Akira shook his head. He didn't meet her eyes. "No, it's exactly how I thought it would be." He buried his face in his arms, fingers tapping out a rhythm on the desk. His next words were muffled so he couldn't make them out super well, but Futaba was absolutely positive she heard him mutter "It's me that's different now."

That was all she really needed to hear. "We don't have to talk about it anymore if you don't want to."

He removed his head from it's hiding spot and attempted a smile. "Thanks." The sound of a door opening in the background echoed through his room. He sighed and sat up. "I have to go."

Futaba's heart sank. She hated herself for saving this for last. Leaving conversations on a bad note was the absolute worst and yet...Well, she'd just have to make up for it.

"Ok. I love you."

Akira nodded, "Love you too." She smiled and reached for her mouse to cut the call, when he started, "Futaba?" She made a noise acknowledging him. "I miss you."

God, this kid really knew how to play her heart like a guitar. She smiled widely at him. "I miss you too, Akira. Good night!"

"Night."

The call ended, leaving her alone in her room with her thoughts. Akira had always been there for her when she was going through something awful. Even forced his way into helping her even when she said she didn't want his help. There was no way she was letting this go. She nodded to herself and started writing a message to Makoto.

Failure wasn't an option.

~~~

LeBlanc was deserted when Futaba got home from school that Friday. Sojiro was busy cooking, humming contently along with the radio. Considering what Futaba's goal was this evening, it was probably for the best that he was in a good mood to start.

"Hey Sojiro! I'm home. Need any help?"

Her father turned and raised an eyebrow, giving her a once over glance before nodding and beckoning her forth to help with dinner. Futaba winced to herself, realizing her huge tactical error. She never offers to help with dinner. Alas, the hint that she wanted something from him is perhaps better than springing it on him with no prior suspicion at all. She hurried to put on an apron and slice up the apples he placed before her.

They worked in companionable silence. And once the curry was done to perfection, they both sat down at a booth to enjoy their meal. The air was thick, pregnant with the anticipation of important conversation. Futaba hated this sort of unease, as it was exactly what she feared would occur. And she hadn't even said anything yet.

"So. You want to ask me something, Futaba?"

No surprises there. Futaba nodded, "Um. Yes. I. I do." God, this was harder than she thought. The words were there, right in her head, so why couldn't she get them out? It's just Sojiro! But that was the issue. It was Sojiro, the only father figure she'd ever really had. She could handle a lot of people rejecting her, but Sojiro was not among them.

He seemed to sense her rising panic, smiled at her gently, "Whatever it is, it's nothing to worry too hard over. If you're willing to talk, I'm willing to listen."

"Yeah I know." She took a deep breath, summoned her inner strength (whatever there was of it) and began, "I was talking with Akira earlier. He's...um, not feeling very well, I don't think. I don't know exactly what the problem is, but I really want to help him. He's done so much for me after all."

Sojiro nodded, showing he had heard her. She continued, "I've tried just talking to him about it, but he doesn't give me or any of our friends straight answers. And now he isn't sleeping well. I'm just really worried."

"And what exactly do you expect to do about this?" Sojiro questioned, luckily not looking mad at all. "You can't just force him to ask for help if he doesn't want it. Trust me. I've tried."

"Yeah," Futaba acknowledged glumly, "I doubt he will ever tell anyone what's really wrong over the phone. It's too easy for him to hide behind the screen and pretend he's protecting us. So...I want to go talk to him. In person."

Sojiro stopped eating. Placed his fork down and the folded his hands in front of him. Futaba gulped. "Who would be going with you, then?"

"No one. I don't think he would want to say anything if too many people came."

He sighed and shook his head a bit, sparking panic in Futaba instantly. "He'd probably talk to you and one other person, right? Why not that Makoto girl?"

"I...I already talked to her about it. She. Um. She said she can't take the time off and that he would probably not talk to someone who isn't me or her so it probably has to be just me."

"And I'm supposed to ignore the fact that my sixteen year old daughter with crippling social anxiety wants to travel over five hours to Kyoto by herself to see her boyfriend? On a whim because he seems upset? You're out of your mind."

Futaba's voice grew shaky, "The train there wouldn't be anywhere as crowded as the one I take to school! So what if it's more time, I'd be fine! And it is not just a whim."

Sojiro shook his head, glaring at her through with crossed arms. God she hated that look. "I don't think you realize how dangerous this could be for a young girl by herself. And what would you do when you got there? Talk really quickly and come back home? 11 hours of transit just for a conversation?"

"School will be off for awhile after midterms, Sojiro. I can probably just stay on their couch or something."

"Oh here we go. Probably isn't good enough when planning a trip like this, Futaba. You can't just show up at people's houses and expect them to let you stay with them. Are you insane?"

Tears jerked to her eyes. "N-no, I'm not! I was going to call Akira's dad a-after you and I talked and ask him. Why do you assume I don't think about things? You know I do!" The last thing Futaba had wanted was to cry, but sure enough the tears came rolling down her cheeks in rivers. Her nose was suddenly all stuffed too. Damnit.

"Do you even have his father's number? Their address?"

"Y-you do, Sojiro! I w-w-wasnt gonna go...go behind your b-back and ask when I already made all the arrangements! You h-hate it when people try to do that! And I know you d-do!"

"Yeah and I also hate it when you hatch schemes in private and then just expect other people to go along with them."  Sojiro sighed, pressing his thumbs to his closed eyes. "Why does it have to be you who does this? Is this even necessary? You don't even know if something is actually wrong, Futaba."

"Yes. I. Do. You weren't talking to him, Sojiro. You didn't see how sad he looked. No, he doesn't absolutely need someone to go, but I want to now before it gets any worse." She paused to sniffle and wipe at her eyes, feeling a bit less frantic. "And would you please stop thinking about him as 'Futaba's boyfriend' and just think of him as Akira? Just because he is dating me doesn't make him any less a part of our family! Right? Right?? You were the one that said that! Well our family member is far away and something is wrong."

Sojiro was quiet then. He sat with his arms crossed over his chest and a deep frown for awhile while Futaba sniffled and dabbed at her eyes with her napkin. Her entire body was tense and felt gross, typical after crying. Still, it was a small price to pay if she could convince Sojiro. She had to at least try.

"Go home."

Her eyes shot up to meet her father's. "What?"

Sojiro leveled her with a stern stare. "It's getting late and you need to get a bath and get ready for bed. You have school tomorrow."

"B-but Sojiro...!"

"Enough. Futaba." Sojiro stood, collecting their plates and moving towards the sink. "No point discussing this any more tonight. You go calm down and get to bed. If there is anything left to discuss, we will talk about it after school tomorrow."

"Sojiro..."

"I haven't said no yet, have I?" Sojiro looked back at her with a soft look on his face. He hated it when she cried just as much as she hated crying. "Now get out of here so I can think, ok?"

The walk home was one of the most nerve wracking of her life. There was a snowball's chance in hell of her sleeping tonight, since her emotions felt like live wires all tangled together. But the less she fought him, the more likely he'd agree. That was all she could hope for at this point.

~~~

School on Saturday was the longest and worst experience of her life. She was bone tired from not sleeping even an hour the night before and somehow all the teachers seemed to know this because they kept asking her just about every single question they could. It was unbearable. She had zoned out through all of lunch too, far too tired to even register being hungry, so as she boarded the train to go home, she felt like she had had all of her stats lowered and inflicted with despair, dizzy and hunger all at the same time.

Her phone buzzed in her bag as she managed to snag a seat on the train (the only small miracle of the day).

From: Key Item

Hey. Ryuji and Ann both texted me and said you looked really out of it today. Everything alright?

Great. Now she had even managed to spread her bad day to Akira. Wonderful.

To: Key Item

Bad night. Didn't sleep. I'll go to bed early tonight, though.

From: Key Item

Alright. If you're sure. Get home safe. Get Sojiro to make you some curry with extra love in it!

To: Key Item

If his love is anything like yours, I'd prefer he keep the love to a minimum.

From: Key Item

Ouch. That hurt. Such betrayal.

She giggled, glad that even when she felt like death, talking to Akira could still make her smile.

Arriving at LeBlanc felt like a death march. There were five customers enjoying curry and coffee at the various booths, so Futaba place her bag down at the bar. Before she could sit down, Sojiro slid a pad of paper across the bar to her. She met his eyes first, then looked down at the paper. It contained a phone number and an address. Her heart sped up and she looked back at Sojiro, mouth wide open.

"You'd best try calling now. I could usually get ahold of his dad around this time. Go on."

Futaba grinned, kissed Sojiro on the cheek and then fled upstairs to call the number. Maybe things were going to work out after all.

[itsjugheadjones]

Lost and Found || Core four

word count : 1, 206

pairing : Core Four x Reader

warnings : A v. v. stressed reader, reader getting lost?

summary : With everything going on in Riverdale you decide to go for a walk in the woods behind your house, to bad you are horrible with directions and everything looks the same. Now Betty, Archie, Veronica, and Jughead are going crazy to find their missing best friend.

a/n : because i seem to have no self control...of course one of my favorite characters and who i usually write for find you. but like...no spoilers. haha. btw, if you guys ever need someone to talk to, my inbox is always open; i don’t have to reply publicly either, just let me know! your issues are valid no matter how big or small and i’ll always try and help <3

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

     Between a murder walking around in Riverdale and the whole thing with with Archie and Miss Grundy, you had ever right to be stressed out. You weren’t one to show it cause you wanted to always be their for your friends. It didn’t help you made your own problems, though valid in their own way, seem much smaller and nonequivalent to everyone else’s. You generally just put up with the stress you felt, you were strong and you could take whatever was thrown at you. But today things just seemed to weigh just a little to much so you thought a small walk in the woods. You didn’t even think about the fact you got lost in a paper bag and everyone knew the cell service by your house was completely shit. 

     You never realized how many trees looked the same and the fact you were idiotic enough to go deep enough into the woods to let the trees completely consume any sight of a house. You sighed, rubbing your face as you let out a long groan. You had always been taught by your parents that when you were lost to stay where you were. You weren’t exactly sure if that would help since absolutely no one knew where you ever were. You began to curse yourself for at least not leaving some sort of note or texting someone. You leaned your body against the tree and let out a shout. 

     Jughead had been the one to notice your absence first. The two of your had a regular ‘date’ at pop’s everyday either after school or around noon on weekends. You had never missed a day without at least telling him that you wouldn’t be here. He had sent a quick text to everyone else, getting back the same darn response : ‘I have no clue, did you _____?’ Horrible thoughts ran through you friend’s mind. What is something bad happened to you, what if this one murder was just the long spree and you were the next victim? Jughead and demanded everyone come to the diner to figure out what they could find you.

     “Are you sure they didn’t text you telling you they wouldn’t be here and you forgot?” Betty asked as her and Veronica slid into the booth seat across from Jughead and Archie. The raven haired boy shook his head, biting the skin around his thumb. Betty groaned, leaning forward on the table. “They didn’t text any of us and I’m worried, what if there is a serial killer or something. They wouldn’t just not text us.” Veronica said, equally concerned for you even if she had recently moved into town. “Did anyone try to text them to see if they would answer?” Archie asked, glancing at his four friends. Jughead rolled his eyes. “No, I never would have thought of that!” Jughead words dripping with sarcasm. “Of course I did, I’m not stupid!” He snapped, on edge because of the fact you were missing. 

     “Jughead, relax! Getting mad at each other wont find Y/N.” Betty huffed out, shooting the two males a look to kill. “Okay, so the only thing we can do is look around for them. Jug, you go to her house, Archie go to the house and Ronnie and I will look around the rest of the town.” Betty delegated. While Jughead would most likely comment on her bossiness, he and they were much to worried about you to care. 

     The four friends kept in constant contact as they explored. Jughead had spoke to your parents and they had something about you probably being out for a walk or something. After telling the rest, Jughead made his way to the woods in the back of your house. He didn’t know why but he just had that feeling you were there. He’d been walking for a good few minutes before hearing rambling. His eyes glancing wildly around before shouting your name. 

     You were out there for three hours, your phones was slowly dying. You had done the smart thing and stayed where you were when you finally realized you were lost and it looked like you were finally being rescued. You could hear someone called out your name and you instantly knew who that voice belonged to. You moved out from behind the tree and saw Jughead there looking around. You didn’t say anything as you ran towards him, tackling in a hug. “I thought I was going to die out here! Thank you such!” You rambled out, holding onto your friend tightly. 

     Jughead could only laugh, hugging you back before letting go, a stern look forming on his face. “Jesus, Y/N. You scared the hell out of me! Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t coming?!” He exclaimed, pulling that ‘are you really that stupid?’ face he was known for. You sighed, shrugging. “I didn’t expect to get lost- please tell me you know how to get out.” You suddenly remembered. “Yes I do and even if I didn’t I texted the rest to tell them where I was so they could find me. Unlike someone I know.” He huffed out. You smiled innocently “But you found me and still love me, right?” You asked, giving him the puppy eyes. He rolled his eyes. “No one could hate you, Y/N” before motioning you to follow him.

     The two of you had gone to the diner, Jughead had already gotten over the subject of you getting lost and the two of you were talking freely until your three other friends showed up. “Jeex, Y/N! You couldn’t have texted someone saying you were going into those woods. We were so worried about you. We thought you were killed or something!” Betty ranted as she sat down next to you, lightly hitting your shoulder. “You should have told us instead of leaving us in the dark. What if Jughead hadn’t found you?” She added, acting very much like a mother would. “Why were you even in the woods.” Jughead asked suddenly, saving you from anymore rants from the blonde girl.

     You shrugged lightly, “I just needed to clear my head. Everything here is so...stressful.” You murmured as you played with you boat of fries. You didn’t look up but you could feel the four sets of eyes on you. “You could have came to us, Y/N. We’re always here for you like you are for us.” Archie said lightly, finally saying something. You looked up and smiled smally. “Yeah I know, but you guys got some really big issues, you don’t need to worry about my little first world problems.” You dismissed, putting a fry into your mouth. 

     “Archie is right, Y/N. Your problems are just as important as our, Little or small. Please, we want you to come to us. That’s what friends are for.” Roni said, reaching over to grab your hand lightly. “Don’t get lost in the woods again either, walk around town, yeah? You gave us all a heart attack.” Veronica added in with a sweet giggle. You smiled and nodded your head. “Alright, I promise to tell you guys and to not walk in the woods.” You said, happy that you had four amazing friends.

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