#oh dang I am bitter today

[squishranger]

AT LAST SEVERAL MONTHS OF BRAINROT COME TO FRUITION

here's a carrd for all tptmers who want to meet some Fun New Girls That I Made (it defaults you to the first girl, but the button leading to the second one is at the bottom... and at the bottom of the second girl's page... is a button leading back to the first! careful not to get stuck in an infinite loop.)

EDIT: OH GOD ITS SO UGLY ON MOBILE. USE YOUR COMPUTER PLEASE

the full designs, transcripts and screenshots of the carrd for mobile users, and other such ramblings are under the cut

REVERIE GIRL , she/they/cloud/dream/star/whatever suits your fancy, wants the world to spin both faster and slower than it does... if she had the gumption, they'd have everything she wanted by now, but they tend to only have the energy to lay in bed and think about lost times. she's a nostalgiacore girlie and she has little else to go off of in terms of defining who she is. (star's... basically just a self-insert.)

PAGE:

JOURNAL TRANSCRIPT: ohhhh my god what am i doing . i cant keep living like this. like its not even living im not even doing anything every morning i wake up and i regret i regret waking up i dont want to wake up but how am i ever supposed to live if i cant do anything other than stare at the ceiling and pretend things are better than they are ??? at this point i'd rather give up. live in my daydream forever with my friends and my cat whos been dead for like two years now i think but i wanna go back to her i wanna go somewhere else. i havent given a shit about reality in fucking forever im so done with it but some part of me wants to live. maybe even get out of my fucking parents house. get a job learn to drive be a person or something. but i'm so stuck. i just hurt all the time. i dont know what part of my heart to follow. i dont know what to do. i can't just go back to bed this time i can't…. i can't…. i always tell myself that and then i do. i need to make up my mind.

CARRIER GIRL, she/he/they/it, has been abandoned by everyone who ever loved her. though she lives a generally stable life, it's a distinctly lonely one, and it isn't enough for her. there is something yet to be fulfilled. some kind of desire. she only wants to feel as loved as she once was.

PAGE:

JOURNAL TRANSCRIPT: hello blog!! i got myself an iced matcha latte from my favorite local cafe today! it was really good. but it like, it got me thinking… will any little treat i buy myself ever make me feel better about how freakin' lonely i am?? man, i dunno why i started thinking like that… i get matcha all the dang time. so often they're starting to feel more like breadcrumbs. i think it'd taste like something again if i shared it with someone. i think i peaked in high school. that was when i had friends and before all that awful stuff happened and yeah maybe i wasn't doing great but i had people. and then they all went to college or got married or had babies or something and… augh!! i can't be bitter!! they're living their best life… just… without me. and now every time i reach out i get brushed off, pushed away… i want someone who won't leave me. will i ever have someone who won't leave me? maybe i won't. maybe i should just accept that. everyone always leaves. i've been nothing but kind to people, i really think that, so what am I doing wrong? ohh boy this one really spiraled outta control didn't it… sorry ;-; i'm just gonna save it and go think for a bittt….

THIS WAS A VERY FUN EXERCISE for character design and branching out with my art style (i did in fact draw both of these characters.. it's probably pretty obvious but i tried to make them look like they were sorta drawn in different styles like the canon girls bc it's cool i think. if that makes sense JSDFJSDF) and coming up with metaphors, i actually had so many other girl ideas that got scrapped for one reason or another, and only two came out unscathed... there may be more... in the future... as for songs, i don't know if that'll ever happen. i have most of the tools, aside from voice synth, so i'd probably just use my own voice. which might be CRINGEEE (ironic statement) so we'll see how that goes!! ^^' don't... don't count on it...

[handelplayssims]

One hour until school in which we aren’t going to follow Autumn today. Enough time to get some breakfast. Whims for Freddie are to meet someone new, which is tied to his aspiration, and to brag about possessions. But I am waylaid from doing those because a song I like is on the radio that he turned on for breakfast. And I gotta listen to my song! (It’s Zumbray from the Romance station) We got Augustus Cooper dropping and wanting to be Freddie’s best friend. Eh. I’m not really spending so much time with ya so...no thanks! I mean, we know only one trait, after all. Still I get to know him and welp, now we know he’s a bro. We can have a bro-friendship!

ACK! BILLS. Bills of 18 thousand. WOOF. Cheated in money but DANG. Annnnd now Freddie is bitter towards Augustus for feeling he’s a creep. Yeesh. Going to set him to meditate to try to ease his mind before the party. Anyway, while I’m not able to do too much with Autumn’s crush on Sidney and her friendship thing before the party, might as well send some messages in Social Bunny Dms. Oh! And take days off of school! Whatever vacation time I have gathered up during the school week, hopefully five days but perhaps less, I spend on Summer Vacation for teens and kids! We got four, the fourth being earned today but I got three days left of summer work week to do!

Party time! Time to get people dancing, drinking, and even more drinking with the keg stand! First since people were gravitating towards the music, I fulfilled the dancing goal of the party. Then I focused Freddie on keg drinking! All the keg drinks all the time! Autumn, meanwhile, focused on getting food for herself. And also got a teenage pop up of heading out to an R-rated flick! Easy enough to sneak away, in the chaos of this party. Freddie was in a flirty mood for ages so I roved my eye around who to see who is the ‘hottest’ dude and picked up J Huntington. And I had my first kiss in a party! How fitting!

And gold party achieved! Our reward? A sweet keg. Right into the inventory it goes! Autumn is back and before she goes to bed, she makes another lifestyle review, this time about media production! ...which is not even what’s she supposed to do for her job. Whoops!

Neighborhood Watch!

Tyrell Carlise in the Carlise household is now a Floral Organizer in the Floral Designer career.

Let’s try for another day. The siblings are making breakfast the day after a fantastic party. Ah fun. And Freddie is grumpy because...he sent a message to his sister being rude to her. ...I think it’s supposed to be the other way around buuuuut ah well. He’s mad and so ANGRY WORDS SHALL BE SAID! Argue over who is better! Oooooh, Freddie won the argument! Interesting. Anyway, going to lower their friendship to just friends at this point rather than good friends. And both are hurt towards each other. Autumn has itchy skin from an ailment. -checks online resources- Cold showers are evidently recommended. (Also medicine but eh) Sidney has dropped by and wants to become besties! OHMYGOD YES! Annnnd he’s flirty! Now might be the time! Reveal crush! AYE! Romance bar get! And we got asked out to Prom as friends. Oooooooooo! Anyway, time for a tried and true way of romancing someone, flirting over chess. Freddie still wants a new purchase so I got him a new tabletop decoration. And I’ll set him to DANCE!

Oooooooh! Autumn has a whim to ask out her crush! Let’s go! Nearby is a pool, a bar, a cafe, a bowling alley and a sketchy park. I think I’ll go for the pool! We’ll keep things casual first, do the friendly goals and then BAM! First kiss!

BAM! And now he’s our boyfriend! ...really wish I could post about that on Social Bunny. At least I got a flirty tag. And let’s ask to prom properly! As a proper prom date! So yeah, lots of romance socials, lots of love and flirting and now these two are boyfriend and girlfriend!

Also nabbed this. And now she’s smitten. Aww. Also hungry. Time to head back home! (Would go to the restaurant next door but eh, it’s experimental food. That’s for ULTRA SPECIAL occasions.) We come back to a sleepy Freddie. To bed! And after food, sleep for Autumn as well. What a day this one had been!

Neighborhood Watch!

Brindleton Bay: The Hough household has moved in.

Case diggs in the Diggs household has died. Shockingly, Case botched a repair and was electrocuted.

Windenburg: The Farley household moved out.

Kalama Kahananui in the Kahananui household has died. No cliffhanger here; Kalama slipped when rock climbing.

Armand DiAggro in the Dimaggio household left his job as an Investigative Journalist in the Journalist career.

Busy busy!

[avikidnaplan]

ptxofficial New music video from #PTVol4 coming #soon! ✨ #PTXFallingInLove

[korasonata]

I’m going to have to do these until they finish this dang castle, aren’t I? Favourite moments of Joe and Cleo’s paper model stream Part 4!

--

Cleo (after Zloyxp tried to raid her stream): You should be able to raid me Zloy. In case you’re wondering. You should be able to. If you cannot, well…Cam will check it out.

Joe: Yeah, you can turn off being raidable. But, Zloy, that makes me feel way better about you raiding me knowing you tried to raid Cleo and it failed. Thanks.

Cleo: *laughing*

Joe (bitter): Thanks a lot for that. My—my heart, uh, so full of so many things. Right now.

Cleo: *wheezing*

Zloyxp (in chat): Pix doesn’t play favourites, I do.

--

Joe: *experiencing technical difficulties*

Cleo: You doing ok Joe?

Joe: …Umm…nooo…

--

Joe: I usually do a pumpkin carving stream every year.

Cleo: I knew about that, I knew about that. (reading chat) I’m not going to buy a gourd and carve it for you Cam. No. I mean, we were watching something called like “the greatest pumpkin carvers” or something like that the other day.

Joe: Oh, then you’re familiar with my work.

SILENCE

Cleo: …You can’t see my face.

Joe: *laughing* No, I can’t, but I’m sure it’s—it’s—

Cleo: It’s definitely a picture.

--

Cleo: Now comes the bending of all the little flaps.

Joe (singing to the tune of the Monster Mash): She bent the flaps!

Both singing: She bent the castle flaps!

Cleo: The castle flaps!

Joe: …They’re like folding tabs!

Cleo: *laughing* I can’t do any more. I wish I could. Just not as fast at that as you are.

Joe: Ah, you know, it’s just practice Cleo.

Cleo: Yeah, you say that, but—but you’d have to have a situation to practice in?

Joe: I mean, if you wanted to do a songwriting stream one day, we could go through things like how to brainstorm, how to determine what’s a viable vs. an inviable idea. How to, you know, kind of workshop things--

Cleo: Joe, I’ve listened to some of your songs. I don’t think you know what a viable and inviable idea is.

Joe: I didn’t say commercially viable.

--

Joe: *singing the entirety of Weird Al -The Saga Begins*

Joe: (cutting himself off) Anyway, I’ll stop.

Cleo: That’s ok!

Joe: Cause you’re streaming. If you were not streaming, I would—… (Trails off)

Cleo: I’m ok with you doing that, its fine. It’s—It’s fine. It’s fine.

Joe: *immediately continues singing*

Cleo (15 seconds later): *quietly joins in*

--

Cleo (reading chat): How old do I think Joe is? Joe is about 6 years younger than I am. Ish.

Joe (knowing exactly what he’s doing): Oh! So kind of comparable to Anakin and Padme in Star Wars. *trying not to laugh* For those of you keeping track at home.

Cleo: *Throwing her knife down* Really? Really? That’s what you’re doing to me?

Joe: *uncontrollable laughter*

Cleo: Yeah, yeah. Are we—are we feeding the shippers again today, Joe? Is that what we’re doing?

Joe: I mean, I think technically we were already doing that by singing the Star Wars song at all. So I was just gonna, like, lampshade it. Like, I don’t feel like that’s more fuel on the fire. I feel like that’s just a shade on the lamp.

--

Cleo (reading chat): “I’ve always thought of Joe and Cleo as being more like Jar Jar and Padme” *laughing uncontrollably*

Joe (Jar Jar voice): Me’s a Joe Joe Hills!

Cleo: *physically choking*

Joe: You know though, you laugh now, but when I’m in the senate—

Cleo: When you’re in the senate, I’ll be dying of complications during childbirth, that’s what’ll be happening.

Joe: *trying not to laugh* Yeah, it’s like “we can replace a severed hand, but god forbid you have two children at once!”

--

Cleo (about her cat): She’s just howling so I pay attention to her. I mean, I get that. Someone’s ignoring you.

Joe: Oh, is that why you’re always shrieking during Hermits Helping Hermits!

LONG SILENCE...

Cleo: ...We’re not friends anymore Joe.

--

Cleo (reading chat): “Been listening to Cleo threaten people since 2016.” *laughing* Yeah, that’s—that’s, that’s kind of a thing.

Joe: But it goes way further back than that.

Cleo: *laughing* How long have we known each other now?

--

Joe: I’m getting a lot of messages saying I have nice hands. Feel free to be more descriptive than using the word “nice”. You know, you can say “elegant”, you can say—

Cleo: “nice” is a nothing word. It means nothing!

Joe: Yeah, nice is—nice is a little bit weak. So, chat, you know—

Cleo: UP YOUR ROMANCE GAME!

--

Joe (dejected): No, it’s fine. It’s fine…

Cleo: *laughing* “It’s fine!” He says through tears.

Joe (with anguish): I’m not gonna cry, because the model will get wet.

--

Joe: We just got a tip from Cameron who says “your hands look delicious”. Thank you very much Cameron. That’s going to put us 2 away from our next face camera expansion.

Cleo: That’s a very zombie emotion. Well done.

Joe: Oh! I thought it was—uh, ok. It’s a zombie thing, nevermind!

Cleo (quickly): *laughing* It’s not! It’s not! it’s no—!

Joe:  Well, you know, some people—

--

Cleo (receiving a mysterious package from Corpse mid stream): Should I open this on stream Corpse, is the question.

Joe: It’s like, do I need to set the mature filter on? Are there a lot of pictures of hunky boys in here?

SILENCE

Cleo (holding a mug with a picture of Garrus in front of the camera): Wow… *wheeze laughing* It says “Garrus Vakarian is my space boyfriend” *laughing continues*

Joe: I don’t know what that means, but ok.

Cleo: This is the character that I’ve been romancing in Mass Effect.

Joe: Oh, so there is a picture of a hunky boy!

Cleo (trying to justify herself): It—i—hunky boy alien, yeah, but—

Joe (not buying it at all): Uh huh

(Cleo’s partner in chat: Imma fight a mug.)

--

Joe (responding to chat): Cleo is in England right now, and I am in Nashville Tennessee. So, we’re both on a call together.

Cleo: Yeah…it’s probably safer, because if we were to meet the world would possibly end. Just out of spite.

Joe: Yeah, it’s one of those, uh—

Cleo: Demonic pacts. It’s one of those demonic pact things.

--

Cleo (in response to Joe’s suggestion regarding her itchy face): I mean, I appreciate your solutions, I’m not sure they are actually solutions. More “solutions”.

Joe: Well, I mean, usually when you air quotes the word “solution”, it’s like you’re indicating like, yah know “oh, you cut the break lines” type thing. Which is not how far I was going.

Cleo: You basically suggested getting a really sharp mammal. And putting it near my face.

Joe: To snuggle!

--

Cleo: Because everything has to be chroma green. Because how else would Joe be obnoxious to people if it wasn’t the chroma green?

Joe: Yeah I know! Also I got new glasses! *giggling*

Cleo: You’re very pretty Joe.

Joe (adorably): Thank you Cleo.

[cosmiclatte28]

Inspiration (Jaehyun x reader)

Hello, this is a quickie I made and finished in one siting. Not beta-read and this is just a fiction there is no real thing here and Jaehyun is (I believe) different than this character.

warning : weed, cigarette, sex, mentions of edibles and bongs. use weed legally and wisely. do not be a stoner (it is annoying and not totally worth it really.)

--

The smell of burnt cigarette on the porch makes you let out a big sigh. Not again, you thought. You are exhausted from the endless meeting your boss was doing today and you had to delay your arrival at home to two hours late. You’ve texted your boyfriend, Jaehyun, to skip ahead and eat dinner cross out, proper dinner before you come home. You had to emphasize on the word proper, but surely that dimpled guy is not listening to you.

You open the door and you are ready to lecture on how important eating is but the second your nose sense the hint of burnt weed and your eyes capture the image of a high Jaehyun on the couch, you swallow back your words. There is no use of lecturing a high Jaehyun.

“Hey babe, have you eaten dinner?” you try to ask him without a hint of bitterness.

The sweet guy only looks at you with a dreamy smile and pulls you to sit next to him. “I ate some brownies Johnny made for me.” he pointed to the stash of brownies and you take a bite before throwing it away to the plate. “Those are special brownies babe, how many did you eat?” you pry his hand away when he tries to reach out for his bong.

“I’ve had like i don’t know three? Nothing much.” he pulls you into a hug and kisses your cheek

“How was work? Oh I am so sorry I got high.” he tries to apologize when he sees you do not kiss him back.

You scoff “Really Jae?! It’s Wednesday! You’re high on a weekday and you have to work tomorrow! You did not eat dinner and use the money I left for food to get what? Chocolates and cigarettes?” you exclaim as you examine the plastic bag on the floor.

“It was a rough day baby, I was told to produce a song by this week and I have no inspiration.”

You stand up and cross your arms “And what? Getting high gives you inspiration?”

He nods but also shakes his head “Well sometimes, but it doesn’t seem to work tonight.” he stands up to but you keep your distance.

“Babe, why did you run away from me?” he questions you with his sorrowful voice and you only shake your head while going to make him some proper food for his poor stomach.

“Because you do not remember anything when you are high Jae, I do not want you to do anything bad.” you focus on heating up some chicken and fries in the oven.

Jaehyun tries to hug you from the back “Please, let me… I got a feeling this will make me have imagination.”

You comply and let him hug you from behind. He gently sways you, but you had to make sure you’re not near the stove and you’re still fully supporting his body.

He sniffs your hair and chuckles “You always smell good, being with you is like walking through a garden of roses. I love roses, dang baby you’re looking good tonight.” he smirks when he examines your dress. Well, you work in a fashion corporate and you need to dress well when there are serious meetings like today.

“Jaehyun, you’re very high. As much as I love you, this has to stop. Or at least do not get high on workdays!” you push him back and he stumbles, but luckily he still smile and sit on the chair.

“Dinner! Yum, my first real meal of the day.” he picks up his fork and begins eating like a child. You sit across him and eat yours too.

“Gosh I am starving this is good,” he says, to which you can guess is because of the icky magical substance. Yeah his appetite sure will skyrocket because of those brownies and bongs.

“Babe, let’s get you showered, cleaned, and fresh ready to sleep okay. You won’t be able to wake up on time tomorrow if you’re continuing this.”

Jaehyun only nods, looks like he is slowly descending and going back to Earth, but he sure still looks wrecked.

“Can I take a stick outside before I sleep?” he asks after his hot steamy bath, you lock the doors outside and keep the key with you while saying “No Jaehyun. Enough, your addiction lately has been so bad. You finish a pack in two days and that’s not good. I do not want you to be like this.”

He throws his head down and sighs “I also don’t want to be like this but I am so sorry, it’s just that work has been super stressful and…”

He pauses and bites his lips and you wait for him.

“What is it Jae? Go on, say it.” you ask while you’re sitting on your vanity table and cleaning your face.

He bites his lips and looks up to you ‘I can’t say it love,”

You feel nervous and weirded out “What? Why? You can tell me Jae, I am your girlfriend, remember?” you stand up and walk to sit next to him.

He looks at you as you grab his hand. “We promised to have each other’s back.”

He feels his eyes quiver but he swallows his words down “It’s fine, I just lack imagination. Sorry to make you worried. Let’s sleep, your day must be tiring.”

You feel weird but you shrug it off.

“Tell me about your day, I’ll try my best to listen.” he says while laying on the bed and soon enough his eyes are closed and his breathing even, before you could go halfway through your day.

You reach to your bedside, take the key and after leaving the bedroom, you take Jaehyun’s unopened box of cigarettes and take a huff outside.

Your phone lights up and you see the wallpaper you have; a picture of you and Jaehyun smiling while facing each other. Your eyes feel wet, something is wrong with Jaehyun. That tone, that tone he used and the sudden pause of sentence. You know him too well to detect his lies. He is hiding something.

You sleep that night while hugging Jaehyun, afraid that this comfort might one day be gone.

You love Jaehyun, you love him for all his sweetness, soberness, high states, and his crazy logic that lunch means taking a cigarette break. Yeah he suits well to work in Paris.

You whisper a quick ‘I love you’ before drifting to bed, not knowing that your relationship is going to face rough waters soon.

–

Your work has been busier and Jaehyun’s production label demand for releasing a song by the end of the month kept him from going home on time. He always arrives late and you’re most likely half asleep when he comes home. Funny enough, every time you ask him if he wants to eat dinner, he rejects it saying he had eaten in the studio and he just tells you to sleep.

You are constantly tired and because you need to wake up early, you are glad Jaehyun is understanding and lets you sleep. But the conversation from the last time that Jaehyu left hanging always bothers you. Until one weekend he comes to you looking fresh and happy that he finishes his song. What he does next is show you the lyrics and have you listen to the demo. You love it, but you wonder what inspires him with the lyrics, moreover, you are still so curious on that night he got high and abruptly stop his sentence midway.

“Jaehyun, be honest. You kept something from me, what is it.” you one day ask him when he seems like he is in a good mood.

He looks at you and laughs “It’s nothing so serious hon, everything is fine now. I have the song written and the producers love it.”

You hug him from the side “I’m glad you are able to fix it, but tell me how did you fix it?”

He clicks his tongue “I watch you in your sleep, and…” he pauses again, blushing real hard and you raise your brow ‘What is it?”

Jaehyun wipes his face “I won’t say it. I am embarrassed.”

You playfully punch him “You’re making me super curious. Tell me!”

He stubbornly zip his mouth at first until you repetitively hit him with the pillow and he finally blurts it out “Ookay we did not have an active sexual live last time and I was frustrated because I have nothing to write and I did not want to ask for you to have sex with me because you look super tired all the time and I just want you to sleep so you can wake up in the morning feeling great. Oh my gosh i am rambling, i am so sorry babe!” he turns super red and you just put on a surprised face.

He closes his eyes and mutters “I am so sorry you can hit me if you want.” He expects you to land him playful repetitive punches but he is surprised when he hears your crispy laughters.

“Are you serious?! You could have asked me babe!”

His ears are super red “Well, you always seem tired and I try to release my sexual frustration by being high… I am sorry babe.”

You roll your eyes, “But we haven’t slept together, so how did you end up writing your song?” you squint your eyes “You do not have someone else don’t you?!”

He quickly denies it and holds your hands and places kisses on them “No baby! I won’t do such things! I promise, if you let me fill you right now you will feel how full I am.”

You giggle and kiss him “Good boy, so tell me what inspires your lyrics?”

He buries his face on your shoulder “I read some adult novels and imagine a lot of scenes I could do if you are not tired from work.”

You grin and tie your hair up “Sexy and interesting, so… Mr Jung, what do you say? We make your desires come true today?” you ask after taking a bite of the special brownie Johnny especially delivered again today.

Jaehyun stops you from reaching for another one “Stop babe, you got enough brownie. We can rock the bed hard enough without you being high. Let’s do this, I miss your taste and I have unlocked so many new scenarios thanks to those stories!”

He pushes you to the bed and begins taking your lips while his fingers skillfully undress you.

“I miss you and I crave for you, my source of craziness and inspiration. I love you so much.”

end

[xoxopandapanda]

InuKag Week 2021: Day 1

@inukag-week

Day 1: Battle Couple

It was a long and difficult day to say the least. The baby wouldn’t go down for anything, quickly becoming irate and angry at any attempt his parents made to help him settle down. Inuyasha’s shoulders and arms were of no comfort, and he didn’t want to nurse from Kagome. He cried and cried.

Soon his parents cried with him.

Inuyasha held it together for a while, taking the babe from Kagome when she started to choke up at his rejection of her breast. “Here,” his voice was soft, barely audible over the screaming child in Kagome’s arms. “Give him to me. You get some shut eye while we go out for a walk.”

Kagome had shaken her head at first but didn’t stop Inuyasha when he lifted the bundle out of her arms and tucked it into the crook of his neck. “I’m serious,” he told his wife sternly, “get some rest.”

Kagome felt the burn of tears down her face and saw through the waterworks Inuyasha’s shoulders fall slightly. But he turned on his heel and quickly left the hut they occupied, true to his word of taking the baby out for a walk. Kagome dropped her head into her hands, not bothering to even tidy or cover herself up before falling over to cry.

She felt like such a failure, of a mother and wife.

Kagome had gone nearly two days without a few hours rest, and exhaustion quickly crept on her. She was too tired and far too upset herself to remember that Inuyasha needed far less rest than her and could handle a fussy baby for a while. Once she was rested, she would probably blame baby brain for forgetting such a vital part of her husband’s characteristics, but that was for a rested Kagome to worry about.

Sleep came to her quickly, albeit restless sleep. She kept waking and searching for the other occupants of her home, before remembering they were out on a walk. She moved in and out of awareness, not having slept alone in what felt like eons, but realistically was only two years. Her bed felt cold and the room too quiet without her boys in it.

Sunlight finally peaked through the crevices of the walls. Inuyasha had promised her that he would fill in the gaps that the aging wood had created. But that was before the early labor and dramatic entrance of their first-born son just a few short months ago. Kagome half thought to remind him of the task, but then thought she couldn’t risk his attention been separated from her and the baby.

She wasn’t ready to be solely responsible yet.

Sure, reasonably she knew she could do it. It would probably just take him a few hours to gather the straw and mud to bulk up the walls, and with his speed and strength the longest part of it would be waiting for it to dry before adding more. He could help her out during those times, but the thought of even a moment where he wasn’t beside her with his full attention on their baby was too much to imagine.

Kagome started to choke up realizing she had left him to her own worst fear last night – solo parenting.

She rubbed her eyes, and the voice in the back of her head told her “Inuyasha is his father. He is just as capable of taking care of him for a few hours, if not more so.”

She threw that thought to the wind and continued to berate herself for leaving him alone with a very upset and very inconsolable baby for an entire night.

Kagome forced herself to sit up, stiff from having slept in the position she fell over in, rearranging her clothes. She winced at the soreness of her breasts and was sure to loosely cover herself.

“He should be hungry,” she said aloud to no one in particular. ‘Hopefully’ went unspoken.

As she dusted herself off and walked to the bucket of water in the corner to get a drink, Inuyasha’s head ducked in the room, eyes scanning for her.

When he saw her, he gave her a sheepish look. Kagome panicked for a moment – did he leave the baby with Sango and Miroku? What would they think of them as parents if they just dropped the kid off when he got fussy?

Her thoughts were interrupted when he stepped into the room, a whimpering lump on his chest alerting her to the baby’s presence.

Later she would realize her panicked thoughts were more of a manifestation of her own desire to ask her friends for help but wouldn’t out of an irrational fear of judgement. That was another thing she was going to have to work out.

“Sorry to wake you, but he’s suckling on me.”

Kagome blinked, her brain still foggy and slow. Oh. Inuyasha meant the baby was hungry.

She went to grab the baby from her husband, but then thought better of it. Wouldn’t be good to drop the kid in her exhaustion trying to get herself sorted to feed him.

She put down the ladle she was drinking from and sat back down on their futon, crumpled and unmade from the events of the night before. The smell of it made her speak. “We got to air this out today.”

“Once he’s fed, I’ll bring it out.” Inuyasha stepped up into the main room and crouched beside his wife, waiting for her to be ready for the baby – who was still whimpering, but had at least dried himself out of tears.

Kagome adjusted her clothes before holding her arms out for her son – her perfect, fussy, big, loud, demanding son. He quickly latched and took off suckling, eager to fill his stomach and rehydrate after the waterworks of the last few hours.

Kagome felt Inuyasha settled behind her, his arms coming around to hold up their son with her, so her arms didn’t have to hold up the weight. Sighing loudly, she leaned back into him, her head resting against his shoulder and his chin nuzzling into her opposite shoulder. Kagome closed her eyes and started to drift of.

Okay, maybe she did drift off.

Next thing she knew Inuyasha had switched their baby on her breasts and was rubbing his wet nose into her cheek. “Hey,” his voice in her ear was a nice change from the screaming of the night before, “I need you to lay down. I’ve got to burp the brat.”

Kagome nodded, slumping over on his arm, until he removed it and let her flop onto the futon. She could hear the shuffling of his feet walking and bouncing the baby up and down to help him release excess gas. The wet blech told her that more than likely the fire rat robe was going to need to be washed.

Groggily she called out, “He did drink pretty dang fast.”

“Yeah,” came the reply, “let’s just hope he kept enough down to keep him calm for a little bit.”

“Maybe he’ll go into a food coma, and we can rest to.”

Inuyasha snorted. “If there’s a god out there, then let’s pray it happens.”

Kagome knew she should help her husband. He was probably having to juggle a baby while getting out of his clothes and then having to clean both of them up. She knew she should just get up and even if it was to wipe off their son, at least do something. But she couldn’t even manage to open her eyes to watch what she was sure was quite the scene playing out in her house.

She could say she was surprised when she was lifted up and put onto some blankets, but she wouldn’t because she didn’t have it in her to even register what was going on. Managing just a little bit of strength, Kagome saw her son on his back next to her, his chest going up and down and a very light snore coming from his mouth that also caused his ears to twitch in rhythm. He was naked which Kagome knew was probably a bad idea but couldn’t even find it in her to care.

If he soiled the blankets, he soiled the blankets. They washed.

Besides, it wasn’t like she was exactly clean herself.

Rolling to her side, she gently tucked an arm under her head and the other coming down softly to rest on his chest. The movement of his breath quickly lulled his mother into a far more peaceful rest than before.

The sun had well slid its way across the sky by the time Kagome woke up. Inuyasha was sitting in the genkan, a shallow dish of water before him and the boy in his lap. The baby seemed very fascinated by the light dancing across the surface and was enchanted by the experience.

Kagome could tell that her husband was just as enchanted by watching their son experience the world for the first time.

“Some partner I am.” Her voice was rough and gravely from dehydration. Inuyasha’s ears moved before his head. He looked over his shoulder at her, bemusement in his eyes.

“Didn’t know I married a bear demon.”

Kagome rolled her eyes at his quip. Gods help her if her son developed his father’s sense of humor. “I’m sorry for leaving you to all the work. I’m not a very good wife, am I?”

Inuyasha’s eyes narrowed, whether in confusion or annoyance, she couldn’t tell. She was too far gone in her emotions to care. “What kind of mother am I, even? I just leave my boy alone and don’t comfort him?”

Inuyasha cut her off before she could continue down her path of self-deprecation. “No one could comfort him last night. Miroku told me that babies get that way sometimes, so we’ve just got to stick together and make sure he knows we’ll be there for him.”

Ah. He had gone to see Miroku and Sango last night. Kagome felt a sting of bitterness in her chest, worrying about judgement for no reason.

“But,” Inuyasha looked back at his son, stroking the top of his head and lifting his fine sliver baby hair, “we aren’t going to win the battle unless we rely on each other and have each other’s backs.”

Kagome nearly stopped him, wanting to know what battle before she realized Miroku had probably use an analogy to get through to his half-demon friend.

Inuyasha continued. “You had my back with Naraku, and when I got injured. I had your back when you had to fight off Hobo and the entrance examples. It’s no different now.”

Kagome opened her mouth to correct him like she had thousands of times before about Hojo’s name, but her heart had other plans. “You’re right,” she spoke softly, her eyes beginning to close again now that she was comforted. “We’ve got each other’s backs. Thanks for having mine last night.”

If she had kept her eyes open for a few more moments she would have seen the color light up across her husband’s face before he turned to look back down at their boy, who was now touching the water to refract light differently, although he didn’t understand the science of his actions.

If she had stayed awake for a second longer, she would have heard her husband say, “I’ll always have your back.”

[fluxofthemouth]

 the devil  :  is your muse addicted to any substances ? is there anything that could possibly make them quit?

&&

judgement : is your muse forgiving of themselves ? how about of others who wrong them ?

the devil

From canon, Piter is implied to be addicted to 'sapho juice,' a drug that boosts quick thinking by a lot. It's a highly addictive substance that will permanently stain your mouth red over time, & that's an ordinary tool of the trade for a Mentat. Seems pretty dystopian to me, honestly?? That something so invasive and personal is a normal requirement of showing up to work? I'm reading between the lines of Dune! I'm reading that neurodivergence is like a prized trait for a servant class that supplies intellectual workhorses for the ultra-rich! Like, the meritocracy aspirations of today's world are maybe just not there (bc feudalism) & if you're super smart or something it's like Oh! A Resource! Don't get me wrong, the Atreides main character family of nobles & their inner circle is pretty awesomely brain-weird too (they've got movie quote guy, compulsively moral guy, teenager who's so dang observant, woman who mysteriously fails repeatedly to get on peoples' good side even tho she means well, etc), so it's not like there are bold lines dividing classes by neurotype or anything. But dang, I just read a lot of thanklessnes into the Mentat role. (I'm imagining the more bitter folks have the inside joke that 'Mentat' stands for Managing Eminent Neurotypicals' Tasks, Albeit Thanklessly)

Piter is also heavily addicted to 'spice,' the setting's famous miracle drug that extends lifespans, lets you see into the future a little, and makes safe space travel possible. Rather than being an expectation, this is a very intentional choice, and a sign of his commitment to hmmm greed and hedonism. Like, this little man saw moderation and ran straight past it with his hands reaching out.

Lastly, in one of the scenes in the book where Piter shows up, he's being annoying & the Baron sarcastically asks him something along the lines of, "Are you high?" and mentions a third, completely unrelated drug. So I interpret that Piter is just really open to experimenting with drugs & that there are a few he's quite heavily addicted to. He already lives in a world that wants him to be addicted to drugs because it makes him useful, so I wonder if the rest is like, he might as well act like it was his idea. He's very evil & I don't write that as good (he is some sort of meow meow, i am microwaving him, etc etc), but like oh shit there's some righteous rage there.

judgement

Piter is hard on himself for making big mistakes, especially when it comes to not predicting or calculating things accurately. Part of it is the huge pressure to be useful, and the fact that everything from his basic safety to his absurd wealth is conditional on not only being useful but being extraordinary. Another part of it's pride; as much as he doesn't like the thought of being used, he truly takes pride in doing good work. Like, I bet he can play an instrument, I hc that he owns a racehorse, he has other shit going on that he might conceivably be proud of. But getting Results for his House is like the one singular situation where it's not just him patting himself on the back, he's really made an Achievement as defined by culture.

In many contexts though, he's got everything he needs to see failures as a natural part of the road to success. Like, okay! There's a problem or a goal & i am going to do a while loop about it.

I feel like Piter isn't one to get revenge against every specific person who wrongs him. In the book, the Baron laughs at him and tells him about a bet he made with someone else about what Piter would do in a situation. So he's not scaring people away from gossiping about him. In another part in the book, he says he'd really get a kick out of seeing the Baron's castle sacked and destroyed. I think his big grudge is against the Empire and the nobility, for all of the scary and personal ways he was shaped to be a tool for their use; and he'll never forgive that. I think he might be so obsessed with the specific wound and anger that minor shit still hurts but seems trivial.

[jonah-aesthetic]

That One Pt.1 I Jonah Marais  

Jonah Marais X Reader / Ivette X Daniel Seavey 

Plot: Since high school Jonah had a thing for y/n but never thought it was time for them. Now in college after a failed dare Jonah can’t help but throw himself into her life.

Word count: 6.4K

Author’s Note: This is nowhere near to finish so I’ve decided put them into parts. It’s has a lot of best friend content. A few POC characters, links to photos, and not much Jonah as I wanted there to be. 

Rating: 16+ 

Part 2

-----------------------------------

The city was bursting with life and colour outside your favourite coffee shop. Vehicles slowly worked through the downtown traffic, many people weaved through the crowed sidewalks. The smell of coffee beans and baked goods was one of your calming scents, like honey or lavender. 

Turning your head. The tall barista clad in a black shirt and a green apron made hos way to you. Holding your iced coffee and cookie in his hands, it was almost like you had a six sense for the beverage. You could feel the happiness start to spread to from your veins as if you could already taste it. You easy got bored on tastes if consumes often enough, but you know you could never get bored of this beverage. 

“One Iced coffee, and a gingerbread cookie.” The barista’s soft brown eyes reached yours as he set both items on the table. “Thank you,” you said clutching both forms of happiness in my grasp. “Can I get you anything?” His question towards your Hispanic best friend sitting across from you. Ivette politely shook her head. “No, one coffee was enough for me. Thank you.” At her response I started at my third coffee. 

“No problem, just give me a shout if you want another one.” you didn’t dare look at him, but you knew his eyes were on you as he said those words. “Don’t worry, she will. This one is a coffee whore.” the words were a playful attack. 

“Ivette!” you warned, 

“Those ones are a good flavour, aren’t they?” The barista, Trey as you read from his black name tag. Says before walking away.you threw a glare at her, “You know I’m studying for the up coming finals. asshole!” 

“Oh come on! It was the perfect time to tease your tense ass. You’ve had that nose of yours in that text book all week end.” She shrugs her shoulders like she did you a favour. 

“I know you don’t understand with that hefty trust fund of yours. But I can’t fail this, my entire future depends on it.” your voice soft when you explained it to her. 

Her dark eyes shifted from yours to the table, her features softening. Silence washed over her bright laughable personality and you could felt the guilt rise. “I-I’m-you could always ask for financial help, we’ve been friends since Kinder.” Her voice softer now, she knew your dad always struggled with his work for years now. Yet sometimes she forgot, it was easy for her. 

“I don’t wan’t to feel like a burden and you to feel like I’m only friends with you because of your family name.” 

“why would I? especially when you’ve only asked for iced coffee and you always paid me back. Not to mention you still wear that apple watch I got you three years ago.” Glancing down at the smart watch circling your left wrist with a clean white band. She was right, Ivette just got you the newest version on your last birthday. 

“This one holds valuable memories, like a relic.” 

Ivette laughs “I’m sure it does, dork.” 

Before you could say something you caught her eyes flick to something behind you. With a small twinkle in her eyes and a twitched of her lips you knew it was rather a somebody. “predator coming this way.” was all she whispered. 

His Cologne wafted over you as you sense a masculine presence loom over you. almost Alpha male like, straight out of a fucking wattpad book you read last night. Finally looking up, your breath caught in your throat. You knew the male who was already staring down at you, a wolfish grin set to you like you were his next prey, his next target. 

“Jonah” You acknowledged him, 

“Y/N? Is it?” his voice deep as he slides in next to Ivette, letting out a yelp as he pushed her with his hip aside. Folded hands setting on the table top, fingers decorated with a couple rings. A leather jacket cover his squared shoulders, silk button down underneath. one or two buttons undone, caramel chest exposed. Bright determined green eyes locked on you, light brown curls framed his face perfectly. 

“We have classes together.” The comment monotone. 

“Right how could I forget.” The smile sly, 

“You asked Marais, now continue.” Not a change in your tone as you stared back at him. Ivette choked out a cough and Jonah sent her an un-pleased glance. 

“Anyways, my boys put a bet down.” His eyes switched behind you, following his gaze you say all four of them watching intensely. Sipping coffee as if this was their only entertainment. 

“Not surprised.” you murmured under your breath, taking a sipping out of your coffee. Most of the sugar and cream washed out the original bitter taste of it. It was definitely an addiction, one you weren’t getting rid of soon as it calmed your nerves in the presence of him. 

“For your number. a little immature if I do say so myself.” This one knew how to play his games, you’ll give me that. But you weren’t naive, never had been. 

“No, thanks for the offer.” You voice condescending towards him. His expression slightly less predatory, You were getting to him.

“Interesting.” His eyes searching for any faltered emotion, 

“The only thing that’s interesting is that you think you’re worth my time.” His wolfish smirk faltered, shock showed with surprised eyebrows. 

“You don’t think I am?” His voice didn’t change. 

“The only reason you interrupted us was because your little boys over there, dared you to get my number. But Knowing your reputation, that’s a waste of my time. Now will you excuse us we should be heading back.” Your voice sharp as you jabbed at him with each word. 

“Damn your bite is brutal.”  Jonah was amazed at the dish you served him. 

“Only to the ones who deserve it.” 

“I’ll see you around Y/N.” He winked , watching him get up you spoke again. “Oh and tell Jack I want his number.” You didn’t want it but you knew that would get under his skin. he only answered his a vicious glare and a growl. 

Your eyes flicked back to Ivette, a proud smile upon her red lips. “That’s my girl, but dang that one is hot as hell. I would’ve caved, even if it’s just a quick fuck.” You laughed, she wasn’t entirely wrong.

---------------------------

Your focus set on the lecture in front of you, taking in all the information your professor was giving you. Tapping in notes on your beloved laptop, another gift from Ivette. Another one you had tried giving back multiple times, yet she had avoid you like the damn plague. Only making you fall into current and take yet another generous gift  

Advanced English was one of your top classes, you’d let yourself lack every now and again. Not for too long but a big enough break to let yourself relax and light a candle. 

The creaking sound boomed through the room as someone pushed open the door. Mr. Delton was use to the average late comer, not giving his attention as he taught the lecture in depth details on the subject at hand. 

focus. focus.

Yet your eye caught a glimpse of milk chocolate curls, bouncing as he half jogged up the steps, light shift inside them making them lighter. He held his jet black mac book and an English text book in his arm. Wearing a white t-shirt rolled up at the sleeves a few inches. Revealing all the ink that scattered across his skin. Black jeans and browning converse at his feet. He was perfect save the acceptation of a purple bruise blossoming on his cheek right below his eye. And a red split through his bottom lip, Both going to get worse as the week continued. 

Bruises that hadn’t been before. 

Staring for a little too long he felt your prying eyes, his wolfish green eyes connected with yours. a flash of a smirk, you swore you saw him tear his cut before you forced your attention back on Mr. Delton. 

You heard his every step from behind you, coming closer and closer. Now right behind you, hearing him take a seat. Dread entered your blood stream and you wished your heart to stop thumbing so fucking loud. Feeling embarrassed as if the student next to you could hear it. 

a small hum from your phone arouse, you debated on it. The hovering presence of Jonah lurked stronger, yet you still fished it out. 

Trey:Hey! was wondering if you wanted to get coffee after class?

Trey the barista from the cafe, the image of him popped into your mind. Dark chestnut skin, a beautiful contrast against your own skin tone. Mahogany coils framed his face, chocolate brown eyes. And those god blessed features. 

You remembered how abruptly he stopped you as you and Ivette started for the exit. Giggling as he walked straight into a table and shattered a coffee mug in the process. He asked for your number, with a pink blush upon his cheeks. Genuinely surprised at the offer you gave it too him while you gave Jonah a glance. Green eyes threatening. 

“The barista boy?” his breath fanning against your neck, making goosebumps rises and a shiver run down your spine. You’ve forgotten about that one with the slight distraction of Trey. Your phone slipped from your finger tips as you let out a loud yelp. Mr. Delton halts his lecture and the thud of your phone echos through the entire lecture hall. 

Embarrassment flows through you again, sinking into your chair as every single person glares down at you. Swallowing hard as you felt your throat began to tighten. You knew you looked like a deer in headlight. 

“She’s not feeling good, I told you to stay in your dorm today, Babe.” His voice loud enough for others to pry in. Bound to talk about you and Jonah later on, torturous gossip. you could already here it. You’d bite back and decline his words if you weren’t for this unfortunate situation. 

Jumping over the chairs he helps you gather your things ushering you out. Everything in his arms both your belongings and his. You were beyond grateful that lecture was the reaching the end. As soon as the heavy door clicked your spun towards him, “What. The. Fuck!” Anger rippled from you in waves. 

“What no thank you Jonah for saving me from embarrassment?” His tone mocking towards you, God! you swore you could slap that dumb smirking of his fucking face. Adding to his bruising face, he deserved it. 

“You are so infuriating!” You yell, feeling it vibrate harshly against your throat. 

“What can I say. I like playing with my food.” Fuck those green eyes. Fuck that stupid smirk. 

“Fuck you!” was all you managed to say as if you could feel the stream burning off you. whirling away from him you continued down the wide hall of the university. If you stared at his taunting expression any longer you’d hit him. 

“Come on! I’m not that bad.” Fake pouting like a child. Remembering he had a hold on your notes. You sighed whirling back around, heading back for him. Glaring Jonah down as you dragged the fire behind you, not a flicker in his demeanour. You swore his smirk grew as if he found amusement in your anger. 

“You are, not to mention you put a target on my back. So thanks.” You say with a humorous smile on your lips. head slightly tilting as he furrowed his eyebrows, perplexed. You rolled your eyes at him, “You called me ‘babe’ as if we’re together..” you mimicking the motion of puking your breakfast out. He shook his head and chuckles. “..And if you haven’t notice you’re Jonah Marais, girls fall at your feet. Now they’re be slicing my head off.” You crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Yet you don’t” His eyes trailing from you head to toe trying to read your body language. The anger stopped abruptly as if his words were like a bucket of water. 

“You’re hot..” His green eyes darken at the confession, his teeth biting his bottom lip. “.. but you treat girls like conquests and you just a waste of my time, Jonah.”  Dark green becoming dull green, He watched as you reached from your laptop, supplies, and phone. Letting them slip from his grip as they fall into yours. 

“If that’s what you think,” Were wrong about him? Or was he trying to bait you? Honesty with the genuine expression you didn’t know what you believed now. 

“Bye, Jonah.” You say softly before leaving him there,

“I’ll see you around, babe.” Taunting again,

“Fuck you.”  You raise your left are and flip him off, 

“Only if you want too.” You roll your eyes at his response. 

----------------------------------

With the pass few days your mind was drowning in piles of work. Still studying for those finals, they were coming faster then you had the time for. You were comfortable with the the amount of information cramped inside. Yet you still felt the need to be confident with the facts, as if you could teach the damn course yourself. There was no time for mistakes, not now.  

Jonah Marais 

There you were in the quad, sitting at a table far from everyone else. textbooks and random pages with notes on them splayed over the top. Not an inch on blue table insight. Phone on air plane mode as you listened to your trusted early 2000s playlist. vaguely bopping your head to the beat of the songs, mouthing the words, your foot tapping the cement. 

Jack nudged Jonah with a tatted elbow, head whipped down to him. a noticeable scowl written on his face, not too happy to have his thought wonder from you. “What do you think shes listening to?” Words catching in his throat as he coughed “Who are you talking about?” 

“The girl you’ve been staring at for the last ten minutes, I’m kinda shocked she hasn't felt you stalking her.” Jack’s brown eyes gleamed honey in the sunlight, a joking smirk upon his lips as he watched Jonah stutter, “I-I wasn’t.” He tried sounding convincing, but the taunting look on his best friend’s face told him otherwise. 

“I’ve never seen a girl get under his skin the way Y/L/N does,” Daniel pipes in taking a seat in the grass with his beloved guitar. 

“I’ve never seen him get humiliated like that. Was a treat watching you get rejected in a cafe.” Little Zach chimed in, cackling like a hyena. 

“Enough!” Jonah barked out, turning a few prying eyes.

“Awe is Jonah getting mad that we’re teasing him about the girl he’s been pining after of years? Poor thing.” Corbyn’s voice is very condescending towards him. Sending All the guys into a full blown laughing fit. Jonah only glared at his band mates, of course they knew about y/n. The only girl who has never fell at his feet.

They went to high school together, never colliding groups through the years. Back then Jonah had every girl he wanted. Until one day in junior year he saw her, Actually saw her. At the time he didn’t know your name, she wasn’t one who cheered at band gigs. Wasn’t one to catch him in the halls and ask if he had any plans for the night. Jonah would remember a face like that, trust me. 

He admired you through the art room’s door, open ajar. An old paint brush in your hand, chipping black paint on the handle of it, years of use wearing down on it. A palette of colours resting in your other as your focus was deeply upon the canvas. A lion roaring with immense detail laid upon it. Anyone looking at it could tell that lion wasn’t roaring out of fear or grief, but pride. The roar of the king, he was memorised by how in depth her detailing was. 

Sliding through the door like a mouse, his attention went to the board. Spirit animal was written for this weeks assignment. Jonah was intrigued by you and your spirit animal. You had to think of yourself as a lion for a reason and he wanted to find it.That lion. 

Glancing towards you he drank you in, from your soft hair to your wore in vans. Lost in the painting, you never felt his hovering presence. Taking a step towards you he halting, this wasn’t the time for her. he could feel himself saying deep down. She’s a lion, you’re not ready for her not yet. With that he slipped back out into the hallway. 

He started noticing her more as if she was a ghost before spotting the lion. Never talking to her but watching from afar. 

“Let’s rehearse, that’s what we came her for.” Jack says, Jonah felt relieved at that taking his seat in the grass. He was playing a dangerous game with his heart. Jonah knew that but he wanted her, but he didn't know how to make y/n his. A struggle he wasn’t familiar with, she was something else entirely. 

“Let’s start with Lotus In.” Daniel says, starting with one of their newer songs. Attention on the guitar in his lap he began, fingers dancing with strings like they belonged there. Jack took in a breath before letting the lyrics flow from his lips. 

Y/N

Jonah glanced over towards to you again, wondering when Ivette and her pack of Richies swarmed you. A ghost of a smile on your lips as you continued your conversation with her. 

“Tell me you’re coming to the party this weekend.” Ivette’s voice drowning in sugar, knowing  there was a high chance you were going to decline. “I just have a lot of things to do, like study and cram in some sleep.” You whined at her as if you were a injured puppy. 

“Come on girl! you’ve been studying your soul away.” Julie, one of Ivette’s friends spoke up. Her voice soft as silk when talking to you like you were some seven year old. you fought the urge to roll your eyes an sigh at her, all of Ivette’s more fortunate friend treated you in this manner. You never brought it up because you knew she loved the company of them. 

“There’s this dress in my closet I don’t wear anyone, it’s last season.” Julie offers, Irritating boils in your blood as you saw the pity ooze out of her like you were some charity case. 

“ I was thinking about going shopping for one instead.” The words spill out of your mouth before you could think. You didn’t have the money to splurge on a dress at the moment. But you felt the need to prove yourself to her, to prove you were one of them. One who could spent a grand or two in a day without trouble. But you Weren’t one of them. 

“I got you a gift, Actually.”  Ivette cuts through the conversation like a knife. Placing a chunky box atop the table over your textbooks and notes. You look at her seeing a knowing glint in her eyes, she knew. She knew that you struggled in her world with her parents and her friends. 

“You didn’t have to.” You say to her, 

“Stop being so modest, open it.” Julie urges you, it took everything in you to not reach over the table and smack her. Engaging in a conversation with her was like talking to a chihuahua. A Beverly Hills Chihuahua. 

A small reassurance from Ivette you began to remove the lid of the black box. Revealing crisp white tissue paper, spotting a vague green colour underneath. Picking various pieces out your eyes gazed upon a gorgeous forest green silk dress. Grasping it in your fingers you were mesmerised by it, lifting it up you saw it in all it’s glory.  

“Wow, I think I’m in love with it.” You spoke, 

“Me too, where did you get it?” Julie pipes in, gazing at the dress as if it was hers.  It was a split between casual and formal, short and body-con-like. an open back with the straps criss crossing over and tying in the front. 

“You wouldn’t of heard of it, it’s main stream.” Was all Ivette said watching you adore the dress in your hands, 

“Are you coming to the party now?” Julie’s voice still sickly sweet, 

“With a gift like this? yes absolutely.” A smirk etched onto your lips still in love with the dress. Ivette scanned Julie’s expression an noticeable sneer reaching towards you. She tried covering it with a grim smile, attempting to keep the jealousy at bay.  

“Jonah is going to love that dress.” Ivette squeals, you drop it at the mention of his name. You praised to the gods you kept your emotions in check. Wanting to play along with Ivette and her game with Julie, “I’m sure he will. It’ll match his eyes perfectly.” you chime in finally, glancing over at Julie who could no longer keep her expressions at bay. 

---------

Ivette began to slid the key into her door. Click. Turning the knob she opened the door revealing her generous apartment. Guiding you in, your hands holding the box that contained the dress she gifted you. A life saver against Julie and her lifestyle. 

She throw her keys on the counter and they landed on the floor with a clang. “I saw the way Julie got under your skin, you had this uncomfortable look settle in your face.” Ivette says, jumping onto her couch with an exaggerated sigh. Taking it in like she hasn’t been there in five whole days. 

“I’m-it’s just Julie talks to me like I’m some little kid, or your younger sister.” I say sitting on her wooden coffee to face her, connecting eyes she looks lost. Like you said your dog ran away. You don’t have a dog. 

“Where’s all this coming from?” Propping herself on her elbow, concern etching her features. You shrug looking away at your feet, “Forget it, um. Where did you actually get the dress?” You ask not ready to say what you wanted to, knowing Ivette she’d run to the ends of the earth for you. God knows what she’d do to Julie and Julie was her friend. 

“Okay, we’ll set it aside.Talk about it late.” Her voice soft and calming. you were grateful for her understanding, she never pushed and waited till you were ready. 

Looking at her with gratitude, reaching her hand for yours she squeezed. Comforting warm pressure against your skin. Growing up with no siblings and only having Ivette as your best friend almost felt like having a sister. 

“It’s thrifted fifteen dollars,” Ivette beams, 

“Okay I’ll take it.” You say in return, 

“I know how you hate my expensive gifts. Even though I’ve been giving them for years. I love gifting them to you because you appreciate everything I give you, you even try to give them back.” Ivette lets a giggle slip past her lips, 

You hug her, arms wrapping around her neck like your life depended on it. Instantly she did the same taking you into her embrace. “I Just don’t want to feel like a burden.” You whisper into her shoulder, 

“You’re not and you’ll never be, You’re my best friend.” She hugs you tighter to her body.

“I love you Ivette.” A warm smile spreads across your lips, 

“I love you too, now lets get you into that dress before you make me cry.” Her voice strained knowing she felt the same, “Okay.” You say before both of you started giggling. 

Letting go you hopped off the couch grasping the box in your hands. “I’m really grateful for the dress.” You say looking down at her, smiles reaching your ears. 

“Stop, just stop. Go put on the dress and I’ll pick out a pair of heels.” She shushes your constant, pushing you towards her bathroom. 

The dress was gorgeous by itself, but on you it was phenomenal. Silky green fabric pooling around your upper thighs, hugging your body in all the right places.The lacing in the back was complicated but you eventually got the hang of it. Tying it in the front, at least that’s how you thought it was suppose to go. If it wasn’t it still managed to look better this way. 

Walking out of the bathroom you heard an intake of breath. “God that dress is a girls dream.” Ivette beamed at you with the brightest smile. Feeling a blush creep up your neck you spotted a pair of heels in her hand. As well as a gold necklace dangle between her finger tips. 

“I’m in love with it.” You admit with a dreamy sigh.

“Jonah will love it as well.” She teases, handing me the shoes and a few pieces of jewellery. Grasping them you sigh, “Can you just let that go, it happened almost a week ago. Plus I asked Trey to meet me at the party.”  You inform her, taking a seat on her bed and began to fasten the heels’ strap onto your ankle.

The heels were black and velvet with a chunky heel, barely having any foot coverage. Only having a thick band over your black toe nails and a strap around your ankle. You didn’t dare ask where they were from in risk of giving them back. You were working on that right now. 

“The hot barista with Delicious chocolate skin?” Ivette basically melted speaking about him, letting out a giggle you nodded. “God you’re so lucky, he’s fine as fuck.” 

“I know I saw him,” you said pride embedded in my tone, collecting the dainty butterfly necklace in my hands. Struggling to get in to clasp, a few tries before I got it. Matching dangle gold earrings, which were easy enough to not mess up. 

-------------------------------

Ivette’s car was wrapped in rose gold crome and was apparently a bitch to keep crisp and clean. Pulling open the passenger’s door you slid in, wasn't too long before the vehicle roar to life. Music pounding into your back with the windows rolled down. This was a party not a wedding so you both never bothered with intense makeup, leaving your hair like it was. 

“I told Julie we weren’t going cause you came down with the chicken pox.” Ivette said turning the music down, you whipped your head towards her. “You do realised we just saw her less then five hours ago right?” A laugh vibrates in your throat. 

“She fucked with my best friend, you think I’m just going to stand by? Absolutely not!”  

“She’ll be there.” I stated looking at her, raven black hair tangling in her silver hoops. A devious smirk spreads on her red lips, “Oh I know,” You shake your head and roll your eyes playfully at her. She only laughs in response. 

-------------

The stench of alcohol, nicotine and sweat has entered your nose almost making you sneeze. Party in full swing, music so loud you swore you saw the floor boards lift up. Taking a step back you thought of hailing a cab and studying for the night. Hand grabbing your arm, you look to Ivette. “It’s time you enjoy yourself, those books aren’t going anywhere.” She speaks into your ear making sure you heard every word. You sigh in defeat she was right, you let her drag you into the night you will definitely regret.

Dragging you through sweaty an intoxicated people, mustering up apologies along the way. Reaching one colossal of a kitchen, a massive house like this was mostly definitely a fraternity house. There was always this pristine a polished look of them, but this one was familiar. One you’ve been to many times before for weekend parties. 

It belonged to Jonah’s band, they liked to call themselves Why Don’t We. As in why don’t we just start a band, you’ve heard the story many times. Ivette had an on and off relationship with their drummer Daniel Seavey.  You had nothing against him, Daniel was a rare stallion with the heart of a golden retriever. Ivette was always the one to pull away from him scared of giving her entire self to him. He was a drummer after all. 

“Babes what beverage is to your calling tonight?” Her voice soft against the shell of your ear. Glancing at the island prepared with every alcoholic drink you could think of. “Surprise me.” You respond with a soft smile on your lips, “The moment I’ve waiting for.” She teases separating from you to craft your drinks. Giving you the prefect opportunity to check if you received a text from Trey. 

You hadn’t. 

Anxiety starting to arise, where was he? 

“Where’s your boy at?” Ivette brushed into you holding that playfulness towards you. Shrugging you shoved your phone into your dainty purse, “I don’t think he’s coming.” voice crumbling, well you didn’t know for sure if he was coming or not. But it was well over an hour when you were suppose to meet. And there was not a single message from him. 

“Here mama drink up.” Ivette places a lime green cup into your hand, the colour coding for single. Tapping cups together in a cheers she counted down “1..2...10″ you rolled my eyes as Ivette skipped eight full numbers. Pulling the pink cup to her lips, taken. Which usually meant she was talking to Daniel again. She chugged the contents. 

You followed, it was bitter. Burning along your throat as you gulped every last drop of it. The percentage was most likely 60 vodka and 40 coca cola. Your alcohol tolerance wasn’t weak but it definitely wasn't strong either. Taking the cup from your lips you coughed. “How was it?” Ivette asks with hopeful puppy dog eyes. You shook your head at her, “I’m never letting you pick again.” 

“Perfect! now it’s time to dance.”

You barely had time to put the plastic cup down, before she was yanking you to the massive den. Into the heart of the party where the music was the loudest and most of the people had been. Cluttering together as if there wasn’t enough space for everyone. 

Your mindset switched as soon you had a taste of the liquor, enjoying every moment as if you did this often. Hand in hand with Ivette as you danced together, bodies close together Feeling the music flow through you as if it was in your blood. Singing the lyrics of an older 2000s song that you knew like the back of your hand. 

Jonah Marais

Music vibrated the walls almost shaking the frames off. Jonah leaned against the railing on the upper level of the house. Having full view of y/n tangled in Ivette Daniel’s girl. Sweat gleamed over her chest as red, blue, purple. yellow, and green lights flashed throughout the house. A blissful smile on her lips and hair plastering her skin. Unquestionably intoxicated by the alcohol she was given. He rarely got to see her like this and began to enjoy the sight of such a gorgeous girl. 

Feeling the presence of a feminine shadow he never took his eye off her. Pressing into him he sighed looking at her, hazel eyes sizing him up. “Hey Jo.” She purred, “Jasmine.” He greeted her in a bored tone she never detected. 

Jasmine was one of the many girls he got lost in through his time here. Jonah knew her body as if he saw it every day. He knew what pleased her and what didn’t, her save words and breaking points. But he didn’t know Jasmine not the way he wanted to know y/n. All Jonah knew was her body and he was getting bored of it. 

“You said you’d be mine for the night.” He voice seductive and slightly pleading, 

“I say a lot of things.” Tone still bored hoping to brush her off. 

“Yes you do.” She hums and begins to press her body into his, feeling every curve of her. Breasts, stomach, hips, and the pulse of her core. Didn’t take too long before her kiss reached his neck. Soft and slow thinking this would release the beast within. Hold her against the wall, bodies pressed together. Instead Jonah shivered in disgust as her hands reached for his belt teasingly. 

“Jasmine, this is a party not your sex chamber.” Daniel’s voice dripping in authority causing her pull away as if Jonah burned her. Relieve washed over him, eyes still on y/n as she grinds against Ivette. Her hands firmly holding her waist, acrylic nails embedded in the green dress. He began to wonder what that view would look like on him instead. 

“Cock block often?” Jasmine scowled at Daniel, 

“Think of it more as a rescue.” Daniel’s voice plain also bored with the girl in front of him. 

“It’s okay to be jealous.” Jasmine purrs again. Can this chick take a hint? Or do I have to form words to make her leave? 

“Not tonight, if you’ll excuse us we have some band issues to discuss.”  It was a quick excuse to get rid of her. It worked as she said a quick bye to Jonah who ignored Jasmine. Hearing her storm down the hall in her heels that clicked behind her. 

“I have no idea why you keep that one around.” Daniel sighs taking the abandoned spot beside Jonah. Elbow leaning against the banister supporting the rest of his body. “I don’t, she crawls back like a wounded deer.” Jonah replies not caring the way he talked about her. 

“Yet here you are still fucking her.” Daniel bites at him not liking the way Jonah drowned himself when things got hard. 

“On occasion.” 

“That’s even worse,”

Jonah looked at his drummer, between the twinkle in his icy blue eyes and Ivette’s blush pink cup. He knew they were talking again, she had this effect on him that no other girl did. “I have a plan and I need your help.” I devious smirk plays onto Jonah’s lips.  

Y/N

Your skin glistening with sweat, the adrenaline in your veins overlapping the pain in the core of your feet. Friction of the straps began to form open wounds, yet you didn’t notice in the bliss of the night. Smiling like an idiot as your body danced with Ivette’s, your best friend. 

“We should take a break.” Her voice strained, 

You nod, not wanting to sound like a dying cat with your sore throat. 

“Okay good, because i’m exhausted, I don’t know how you do it!” She shouts taking your hand in hers, guiding you away from the crowed bunch. 

“The alcohol seeping through my bloodstream.” Your tone in a duh manner like it was the most obvious thing in the worlds. Feeling the way the liquor took effect on your mindset, little hazy yet blissful and happy. 

“Lets get some water in you. okay?” Ivette’s voice holding concern, brushing your hair back like an older sister. “Yes mom.” you sigh sarcastically, with that both of you are off to the kitchen. 

Littering with a couple people not as much as the den. Talking and laughing, enjoying each other’s company. Making the memories they’ll have keep until they don’t want to. 

Again Ivette hands you a lime green cup, but this time the substance in side wasn’t brown. But transparent with no wrenched stench this time, water.  “Drink up, babes.” Ivette says, bringing her own pink cup to her lips. Hers contain the fizz sound of her favourite pop, Root Beer. 

“What would I do without you?” You ask feeling the adrenaline fade from your body. The feeling of complete blissful ecstasy drain to a more content happiness.

“You’d most def--” 

“Ivette.” Her name rolled off his tongue like a purr, like it was meant for his lips. Cutting or conversation quick she whirled around at the sound of his voice. Her breath shuttering at the sight of him. 

Daniel stood in from of her in all his proud glory, his blue eyes fixed on her and only her. They smiled at one another, his cupid’s bow extending. “Daniel.” She acknowledged him. Glancing at me she widened her eyes for quick second trying to keep herself together. Blue eyes shifting he tilted his head at you, “Hope you were having a good time.” 

“I was, thank you Daniel.” you say to him before finally taking a sip of your water. Cold sliding down your throat the perfect refreshment after the hour in the den.

“Always, y/n.” his voice smooth as he averts his attention back on Ivette. “Got time to spare me a dance?” Daniel extends his hand towards her, waiting for the acceptation.

 “Sorry, Daniel but I’m y/n’s ride.” Both flicked to you at the excuse she put on the table. You gave he a tight lipped smile not saying a word but you knew she got the message you wanted to get across. 

“I know that’s why I have Jonah, he’ll drive y/n when she’s ready.” Daniel threw a thumb behind him. Looking past Daniel you spotted him, Jonah leaned against the counter across the kitchen. Wolfish grin on his lips as he was sipping out of a lime green cup. It couldn’t of been Corbyn could it? No, cause that would be to much to ask for. 

Connecting eyes with Ivette, you saw pleased in the browns of her eyes. Not for you to let Daniel take her but to say you didn’t feel comfortable with Jonah. You remembered the times she was completely and utterly happy with him. Saying that he was it, he was home. He was this amazing person for her but she was fucking scared. 

You mentally apologised to her before saying anything, “She’s yours, I’ll be fine. Daniel trusts him, I trust him.” You forced the words to sound normal for his sake. Deep down you wanted to puke for saying those words, but it was for Ivette. “He’s a good person, he’ll get you home in one piece.” Daniel says before whisking your best friend from sight. 

“I’ll get you back of this.” You swore you heard Ivette seethe, nonetheless you smiled after them. Wasn’t too long before you felt his presence loom behind you. Great here we go, it was a risk worth taking at least that’s what you told yourself. 

“Hey, Babe.” 

----------------------------------------

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this piece. 

Which was your favourite part? 

Don’t be afraid to message me if anything offended you with my POC characters. This is a safe space for everyone and I want to make it right!

Taglist:  @jonahlovescoffee​

[grayintogreen]

It’s technically WIP Wednesday (even though it’s 1 AM...) and I don’t have Inventory today BECAUSE IT WAS CANCELLED AGAIN THE DAY BEFORE. SO WHO WANTS TO SEE SOME OF THAT CLIFFHANGER RESOLUTION FROM SHATTERED STAGE???

Lucien is on the world’s worst field trip with like 10 HP left and no weapons, everybody. It’s not going great.

“If the whole world is destroyed, what makes you think you won’t be destroyed along with it? The Chained Oblivion doesn’t seem the sort to negotiate even for his most loyal.”

She chuckled, drily. “You assume that I don’t want to be destroyed.” She spun on her heels again so fast that he almost bumped into her. “Your beloved pattern was endless creation, limitless and undying, but it is the most unfathomable, horrific idea of existence. A prison of flesh and thought united under one common mind that can never die and never truly live. You want to know my dream, oh Nonagon of the Eyes of Nine, the martyred dreamer who came back to his precious Somnovem a tyrant? My dream is the end of existence. I want to see this world salted and burned.”

Lucien stared at her. “Why?”

She canted her head. “Oh no.. You think there’s an excuse. My father didn’t buy me a pony. My mother ignored me. I was picked on in school for being unique and setting fire to small animals. I had an uncle who touched my hair a little too much. Is that what you’re imagining?” Every word dripped with condescension. 

She leaned closer and spoke slowly, making sure he understood every word in her lilting accent clearly. “Everything I have ever done and will ever do- womb to tomb- has been in pursuit of this singular goal. For four generations, we have been his loyal priestesses waiting for the time when one of us would be called to break the chains and release Oblivion. My mother thought it would be her, but I got her first, and I’m sure she was very proud of me. So no, Lucien, there is no excuse. There is no tragic narrative. I do this because I am fucking crazy, just like my mother and her mother before her and so on, and I like it.”

And with that, she took a step back, smiling sweetly. “Not all of us have an excuse, because when it comes down to it, what excuse is really good enough to justify the systematic murder of millions of people?” She pivoted and continued her walk. “Now come along. Don’t make me put you on an actual leash.”

“It’s going to be glorious when I get my hands around that lily-white neck of yours,” he snapped, falling into step behind her- not necessarily because she ordered it, but because he felt his options were limited.

“Promises, promises. One more hit from me and you’re dead, which would be inconvenient, but fixable. You have no weapons; most of your tricks aren’t that useful on me, and all that power in your blood doesn’t matter a bit if you have nothing to bleed on. Also I’m sure you have the upper body strength of a fucking child.” She glanced over her shoulder, tilting her head eerily. “You’re a bit fucked.”

She wasn’t wrong, but hearing it laid out like that didn’t make him any less livid. He stalked behind her, trying to calculate a means of attack- she had magic, yes; she had additional, dangerous abilities, yes; he was fucked, yes.

He swore under his breath. “Where the fuck are we going?”

“Back to where it all began,” She glanced over at him again. “Do you remember how to get to the Aether Crux?”

“It’s been ten years,” Lucien snapped. “Why would I remember that?”

“That was a rhetorical question. We both know you do. You’d know it blind.”

Why the fuck did this woman have to be right about everything? She tortured him, trapped him in the monument to his sins for the sake of probably torturing him more, and then she had the gall to think she was smarter than him, like she had firsthand knowledge of precisely which buttons to push to make him crazy.

Well. Two people could be fucking insufferable. “You seem to know everything. Why don’t you know where it is?”

“Because I’m asking you to take me and I think I’m being quite polite about it. I could do to you what I did to your wizard friends at any point, but it’s not enjoyable taking people’s free will when they’ll hang themselves with enough rope without it. 

“So this is really just a game to you?” Gods, and people called him crazy. At least he’d had a plan, an excuse, a fucking sense of reason. Jayne had none of those things- well, clearly a plan of some kind, but it seemed to be entirely based on releasing Tharizdun and profiting from the impending destruction using himself, Kingsley, and Molly. “Tryin’ to wear me down so I’ll bend to your will.”

Once more, Jayne spun in place and then backtracked to get right back into his face. “Now you’re getting it.” 

She reached up and squeezed his jaw again and this time his hands were free. He could grab her by her wrist and squeeze it until it snapped. She had delicate, bony little caster wrists. His so-called upper body strength of a toddler was more than a match for those twigs. He wrenched her wrist backwards, trying to break it, but she pivoted along with it and swiped his legs out from underneath him, dropping him back onto the ground. She followed it up by slamming her equally bony little knees right into his stomach and grinding down. He felt his vision go gray for a moment before he forced himself to remain conscious. Gods, he was fucked up. By all rights, he shouldn’t be able to even walk. Most of his wounds were internal where Jayne’s touch had tried to eat his vital bits from the inside out, and it was only sheer stubbornness that kept him motivated to keep moving. 

Jayne lifted her hand and he recognized the sickly green glow around her hand as she danged it precariously close to his face. He’d seen plenty of blight spells between Fastidan and Caduceus, and he didn’t particularly enjoy the idea of having one this close to his face.

“You know for someone who values politeness, you’re shamefully rude. Is it something I said?”

He didn’t dignify that saccharine sarcasm with a response. If he did anything to her, she was going to melt his flesh from his skull and then who even knew what would happen. Would she bring him back? Could she just take the lock around his neck and throw it into the Abyss and be done with it? He couldn’t possibly guess. All he knew was he didn’t want to die in Cognouza again.

So he went, seething and bitter, docile once more, and Jayne dismissed her spell and stood up, brushing her dress off as she did so. “I’m glad we’ve reached an understanding,” she murmured. “Now would you kindly show me to the Aether Crux?”

[bramblepaws]

What are your favorite chapters/scenes from BCB? And also what's your fave chapter (probably not yet posted but I'm hype lol) in the redone omnibus? Always curious to hear your thoughts :)

oh i have.. so many favorites. 

favorite chapters areeee 

Confrontation, because i LOVE the setup of the deeper issues in the relationships between Lucy & the rest of the main four, and I Love The Drama

December, because the pacing is super well-done and has SO much bitterness with just a little bit of the sweet mixed in, A+ fucking chapter that i go back and re-read regularly, and again, I Love The Drama

Wonderland and Dial Tone are two i also really like because i am a huge sucker for the like “inner world / dream sequence letting the audience know about Deeper Feelings this person is having & tying in to outer-world events later on.” wonderland makes my heart ache over how the relationship between mike and lucy has fallen apart. “i’ll catch you, brave girl!” genuinely makes me EMOTIONAL bro.... and i love what it says about how Lucy sees Mike. and then Dial tone being almost the complete opposite, where Lucy is practically drowning Mike? and Lucy is SO VERY out of character, because Mike has just completely misinterpreted so many of her actions? fantastic. LUCY DYING ON THE BEACH WHILE MIKE SOBS AND TRIES TO STAUNCH THE FLOW OF BLOOD WITH HIS BLUE SCARF.... YES. and then it all being referenced later when he meets her irl again.........yesssss. also i absolutely LOVE the art in this chapter. the colors are really fun and the pages where the earlier styles get referenced is SO nice. 

Happy Hour also fuckin’ good, i am a sucker for the Bottle Episode trope. extremely funny and cathartic to see these teenagers all get drunk and then cry over lucy. also mike is adorable when he’s tipsy

It’s All in the Mind is another big fave because of the drama of it all. i LOVE seeing Lucy and Sue bond, love seeing Amaya just chilling. but i am 1000% here for the Daisy/Lucy interactions because it has all been under the surface since Confrontation and it’s finally being laid out explicitly AT each other!!!! Lucy cares about Daisy and wants to protect her but doesn’t understand her position at all, and Daisy primarily sees Lucy as a HUUUGE source of jealousy. and finally getting to see more about how Lucy feels victimized by people wanting her? YES. GOOD SHIT. also the art is once again extremely good

Back and Forth gets an honorable mention because it was the active-running chapter back when i first started reading the comic, and i LOVE the friendship interactions between Paulo and Lucy sooOooo much, and i honestly still adore the art style here. 

in the redone omnibus, my favorite redone chapters are deeeefinitely Confrontation and Rising Temperature. 

obviously Confrontation just finished being put up on Webtoons today -- and OOUGH IT’S SO GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!! IT’S SO DANG GOOD!!!!!! the edited art makes it sooOooo nice to look at. the updated dialogue makes it SO much easier to understand what’s going on & clarifies things that were muddy before. i also love that it was edited so that Alej & Toby were Not the ones to give Paulo his barking phobia; makes it muUUuuch more realistic IMO. i also love how much more dramatic it is with the new dialogue.... so much cleaner.... it’s very very good. 

and Rising Temperature obviously HASNT been put up yet but i’ll just say... the dialogue changes hit really, really hard & the new art is really really nice. i’m so excited for the day it eventually gets posted cuz i want to just dig REALLY deep into the new dialogue. that chapter has always been a big pivot point for some stuff with Mike, and i feel like the new dialogue makes the pivot even more obvious and impactful. soOOOO excited for that one. 

[ghostmartyr]

So if you, like me, have nothing to do but wonder about the state of my inbox, you might rightfully be wondering how I plan to deal with the obscene backlog I have spent so many years failing to deal with.

If you have never wondered that, fear not, that doesn’t exclude you from finding out.

Today we’re just going to go through my entire slew of unanswered asks, and instead of answering them, I am going to provide excuses for why I didn’t do anything with them.

For added fun, several of the asks were in my Drafts.

I will not be cutting out the comments I started to make.

I will no doubt regret this.

Let’s have a time, shall we?

I don’t even know what year this is from. If I remember correctly, I didn’t get back to you because I thought about trying to reason out who would legitimately win, and there were too many points for both sides. I kept intending to come up with a proper answer, then time went by and this got buried.

Though the actual answer is probably “it depends on who gets the main character sticker at the time.”

...

..

.

Well.

I can tell you this is multiple years old.

We, as humans, aren’t equipped for time travel.

I didn’t answer this one because I didn’t feel like it was asking for one, and I’m only reproducing it here because it is really, really funny now.

Two years old. Plus change.

I think the entire reason I never replied to this one is that it cheered me up whenever I scrolled down enough to see it, so thank you.

You know, I entered the link at the time. Really, I did. But then came trying to come up with a comment and what can you really follow that with?

(Click the link.)

Okay then.

I still feel no need to respond to this, so that’s probably why I didn’t to start with.

Historia and literally anyone.

I don’t remember why I didn’t answer this, which usually means some combination of feeling tired and not being in the mood to scroll down to where it was.

Oops.

The thing is, this crosses dangerously close to being a fic idea. Fic ideas take time and effort. You can imagine the absolute dread I felt at having to engage with either concept.

It would have been a lot of fun to do, though. Hats off.

See, again. This is a very interesting concept that requires thought. I can tell you when I received it I was in no mood for anything that required anything of the sort.

I wrote a fic that is possibly never going to see the light of day now where they hang out in a kitchen with hot chocolate together and bond through unstated trauma and Frieda attempting to make things better.

That probably contributed to interfering with imagining how they would actually get along.

Anyway, I ship them slightly in that fic AU. Don’t @ me.

Oh dang. I remember this.

I actually really wanted to answer it, but the problem is that I wanted to come up with a good answer. Every character, tiered by their chances. A full Hunger Games edition of what went down and who killed who.

Then I didn’t.

Anyway, turns out the answer is that no one feels the need to chop of rocking chairs in a hurry, so she’d last a long time!

I didn’t answer this because I try to avoid responding with, “I don’t know.” My secondary answer would probably have been, “By being killed.”

Not that there’s anything wrong with those answers, but unless there’s been a tonal trend in asks, I assume that pithy answers that don’t actually have any meat behind them would not be appreciated.

I would stick to him probably being killed, though. But some signs do point to him being relatively immortal.

Hm.

Hmm.

I don’t know why I didn’t answer this, but I would guess it had something to do with me caring very little about Ymir’s thoughts on anything outside of her little clutch of people. And ongoing trauma of repeated dead/alive Ymir commentary killing off my desire to come up with a good answer.

Sorry?

I... have no idea why I didn’t answer this? Maybe I didn’t see it?

Anyway, yes.

There’s a longer version behind that yes, and I’m sure that might have contributed to never getting around to answering this. ...Assuming a past where I did actually see this one.

I have a confession.

I don’t really like crossovers.

There’s a sliding scale of degree, but that’s basically why this didn’t get a response.

Ah, we’ve landed on a recurring theme.

Sometimes, answers involve me thinking about the entire cast.

The usual consequence of that is I don’t have the energy for that, so nothing ever happens with these.

Oh, this one’s easy.

I had no fucking clue.

No ideas, head empty.

That didn’t seem like a good answer, so here we are, probably around a year later. I still have no clue. If I were forced to write a singing duo AU, I would probably just put some adjectives and nouns into a blender and flip a coin.

Names are hard.

I think I didn’t answer this one because I felt like I’d answered similar asks before. And I’m not really sure when this is from, but it’s possible canon complicated coming up with an answer that wasn’t distressed screeching.

Something something give Connie and Mikasa hugs, not partial about where they get them from.

Apparently not. Oops.

I can’t remember why I didn’t respond to this one. It’s possible the oodles of bad parenting proved too distracting to formulate such a post.

Sometimes I get an ask, and my immediate, gut reaction is, how the fuck should I know?

If I can move past that, the ask is answered.

If I can’t, the ask continues its descent through scroll hell.

I am sorry. There are no answers here.

Yeah, this is just the same as the above, just with I have no idea.

It’d probably be a Madoka Magic deal.

Huh. I don’t remember passing this one over. If I were to guess a timeline, I was probably too bitter over potential post-timeskip looks that I never got to be interested in focusing on the characters lucky enough to get good ones.

Go Connie for being less short, I suppose.

This clearly belonged to something that I was doing, but time has eroded the context, so I am simply left with failure and disappointment on all sides. Sorry.

Aw, we’re getting into the boring part of the inbox now, I think. Not because of the questions; you guys are always great. But I can’t think of a reason why I wouldn’t have answered this, which leads me to think that the reason was I was too tired to put words together.

That’s a boring reason, so maybe I should go into Drafts for the next few...

Yeah, still unfairly prejudiced against crossovers. I am no fun, etc. etc.

I have no memory of it, but I feel like I didn’t answer this because there was no way I could match this kindly anon’s enthusiasm.

You go, random internet person.

You have good ideas.

Oh no.

Uh.

See.

I know exactly why I didn’t answer this one.

I am so sorry, Anon.

I really didn’t care.

I am filled with affection for you because you clearly do, but uh.

...I basically put this on Read.

This has a very simple, ie boring, explanation. Any time someone asks about the cast as a whole, I want to think about the cast as a whole, and that takes a lot more thought than most of the asks I get. Cue putting it off. Cue it getting lost in scroll hell. On and on we go until we end up here.

Anything that opens with kilometers is something that requires more brain power than I have had in the past year.

Also I think I got this during a spoiler week, so I saw it, but I was trying not to look at it, and then it got lost in the post-chapter asks.

That happens a lot.

We might see it more soon.

If I can’t come up with words more than “-shrug-” I try not to answer.

...Good news, though!

The manga did my job for me!

I feel like I answered some variation of this. That might be why I didn’t answer this specific one.

The wiki does a better job keeping track of the timeline than I ever have. I probably didn’t answer this because it would involve trying to remember which volume actually name-dropped a number of weeks or months. Searching for lines I know a character said is pretty easy, but searching out lines I have a vague feeling of someone providing? That tends to hit the frustration button with the force of a truck.

But yeah, if you ever want to know how long something took, the wiki is absolutely your friend. They do good work.

Consider: “What if” questions are hard, and I am lazy.

This is actually one I really did mean to get to, sorry. It’s an interesting thought, and I miss Sasha.

...I clearly did a magnificent job answering your asks, friend.

Prediction asks are hard for me; I feel like I’m throwing darts randomly into the air and the dartboard is still deciding if it’s going to show up. So uh. I guess I just kept putting this off until it didn’t get answered.

This post is going to have so many apologies. Implied and otherwise.

I continue to be the No Fun Police who accidentally-on-purpose avoids crossover commentary.

I feel like I didn’t answer this one entirely because seeing it in my inbox gave me far too much joy to have it lost in a sea of posts.

This is what my inbox was made for.

I have no idea when this was from, but I see your emotions and appreciate them, Anon.

...Did I not see this one?

Hey, Anon who probably doesn’t remember sending this: This is a good ask and deserved some good attention, and I’m sorry I missed my shot at it. Good thoughts.

I didn’t answer this one entirely because I knew I couldn’t match the energy of it, and responding with anything less felt heretical.

That is one hell of a mood, Anon.

This is definitely from the era of, “Can’t think, brain empty.” Sorry about not getting back to you, I just really couldn’t organize my thoughts well enough to come up with an answer.

I feel like I didn’t know what this was continuing from and was too exhausted to ask.

LOOK YOU CAN SEE I WANTED TO ANSWER THIS BECAUSE IT’S A DRAFT.

Too many things, Anon.

I liked so many things about all of that. Trying to turn that enthusiasm into words wasn’t agreeing with me, so I put it in Drafts and told myself one day I’d do the most awesome post detailing everything.

Intentions, huh?

Every time I tried to take a normal screenshot with formatting Tumblr just laughed at me, so that might have been a contributing factor.

Dang, I’m really sorry. This is another one of those cases where I wanted to take my time with a response, and I took too long.

I, uh.

Am guilty of not being too interested in pondering Ymir’s thoughts on Levi or Erwin.

That’s it, that’s the explanation.

Yeah, I just couldn’t come up with an answer here? Or someone else asked? Or several of my friends decided to be annoying about lists on Discord? I don’t even know.

Presumably there could be a list.

There is not.

Honestly, I just couldn’t figure out how to follow that starting sentence up. A thought exercise on Armin, Historia, gender, and themes sounded really interesting, and I put it in Drafts so as not to forget it being interesting.

Then, you know. This post sort of paints the picture.

Ah.

Man, I really was looking forward to putting some proper thought into this. That’s the problem with having so many things I love in one place, I guess. Symbolism? Historia and Ymir? Mikasa? So many good things! Where do I start!

With paralyzing indecision that results in not a lot. Sorry, Anon. This really did light up my day when I got it.

Here’s the thing about me and writing:

I often fail to.

(I love both these ideas, though.)

Yes.

Do I know why I didn’t get around to answering this?

Absolutely not.

But yes, I’d agree with that.

GOOD NEWS!

The manga actually gave us some of them together in the future.

I occasionally giggled over their shared distaste.

It was a good time.

And this is another one I just do not know why I didn’t answer, whoops.

This never got answered because I couldn’t come up with an answer.

Broad questions are scary because they can go just about anywhere and I didn’t know how to handle that level of commitment.

I think I didn’t answer this one, A), because words are hard, and B), because mostly I just wanted to listen to more of your wondering and less of mine.

I probably could have answered this by saying I don’t have any, but that seemed rude, so I didn’t respond to it at all.

Yep.

Frieda is worthy of my time and effort.

Landing this in Drafts instead of my inbox.

Where the lighting makes it more obvious that hope has gone there to die.

I think about it so much too.

I find the answers fundamentally upsetting.

That is probably why I did not provide an answer here.

That is a lot of kids to make up headcanons for.

So I didn’t.

She’s eaten by dogs before she develops a personality.

Since that seemed like the wrong thing to say, I said nothing, and into Drafts this went.

‘I have no earthly clue’ seemed similarly unhelpful.

At this point, we understand that there is no mystery to my backlog.

This one hurts.

-sees the 112 reference-

Wow does it hurt.

As I hope is obvious, I really, really loved this question, and kept meaning to carve out time to work on it specifically. What went sideways was trying to put words to how EMA functions. I knew the feel of what I wanted to express, but every time I tried to write it, it came out wonky.

I’m very sorry I couldn’t do anything for this, because I was thrilled to spend time with it.

I didn’t answer this because Fuck Marley.

It’s nothing against you. At the time, I simply wasn’t in any mood to consider any version of Marley. Even the canon version was too much for me, so giving it my time in a roleswap AU had me hissing.

Roleswaps in general are amazing, and I love them a lot. A dedicated person could make a fantastic one based around Marley and Paradis. I think it would probably be cool af.

But I was so tired of Marley when I got this, I just couldn’t make myself think about it. Sorry. It’s a fun idea.

I didn’t answer this one because I kept trying to extend my response past, “I think he just really likes baseball.”

I think he just really likes baseball.

My feelings on that as a quality answer are derogatory.

Mm. The ones where I actually tried to get something started hurts.

Ultimately, this ask was a larger demand than I could make my brain work through at the time. I made sure to write down the tl;dr version of Sasha’s, because I found that desperately important, and not something that people talk about much, but the additional weight of trying to think of themes for multiple characters made it hard to progress.

Me, looking at the prompts: Hi my brain left me.

Sorry, Anon. Too many gears were moving for me to get a proper feel for what I wanted to do with this one, so I ended up ditching it. ...I was planning to finish it, though. Eventually. See, I even put the quote in the Draft version as a reminder of what I was doing, so I could get back to it right away.

Yeeeeah, this is just one more to the “I will give this wonderful thing all the time it deserves!” pile.

The pile is stored in the Failure Corner.

Perfectionism is the enemy of progress.

You guys really like crossovers.

I love that for you.

-spends two years ignoring you-

I mean, I just didn’t know what to do with the rainbows.

They sure are there.

They sure are pretty.

I sure couldn’t come up with a comment to add.

...I don’t know why I didn’t answer this. Possibly because I think it’s fine? I’m not too attached to it, and spent the whole manga period wanting to watch an anime version instead, then we got an anime version.

I’d guess that my general “meh” feelings interfered with responding here.

No idea why I didn’t answer this.

Yes, and good for you.

I support all thoughts on giving the Reiss kiddos personalities.

I think I didn’t get back to you on this because I wasn’t sure how to encourage you to keep going so I just sat awkwardly on my hands and felt weird about not saying anything.

...Thanks for sharing!

I love how it’s the little things that date these.

Unfortunately, we’re now at the point where 90% of the reason I didn’t answer was because I was too sick to muster up anything approaching enthusiasm.

Or because I’d just finished answering a bunch of chapter-specific things and was burnt out.

This felt pretty self-explanatory to me, so I felt like that gave me permission to ignore it.

Also, it mentions Marley.

I might be slightly petty.

Really though, I think what stopped me from giving a proper answer is that the question of what an author is trying to say throws me off a little. I work better thinking of it in terms of what the story is saying, with the author just happening to be the hands that wrote it all down.

I don’t know. This was probably another case of feeling like I should give this more of my time than I was able.

I couldn’t decide.

That’s it.

That’s the reason.

Everyone needs to give Mikasa a hug.

My blog title for a hug.

-the crossover snake hisses and consumes another-

I am so sorry.

This is fun.

I probably should have just gone with posting and saying so, because I am genuinely charmed by this. I tend to feel like I have to add something to asks to justify the post. That policy maybe didn’t need to be a thing.

I love my anons.

I want that to be clear.

Really, I do.

I especially love their willingness to embrace my crackpot logic.

Still.

Sometimes, the only response one can have to Schrodinger’s Ymir is to ignore its existence, find a pillow, and scream into it for the rest of time.

This replaces typing.

-looks at Armin-

-looks at Eren-

Yeah, don’t know why I didn’t answer this one, either. I blame tiredness? Sorry about that.

I feel like I didn’t answer this one because it felt like work.

This is where I start considering that making this post was a mistake.

I could have just agreed with you and gone about my day.

Probably should have.

Did not.

Another one for that, “had nothing to add so I just left it in a corner, abandoned and unloved,” pile.

There is an apology section at the end, but we’re not there yet.

This one I don’t think I noticed.

Alternatively, I did notice, and wasn’t sure “Yes,” would pass as a good enough answer.

--------------------------------------

Okay, time to really just get into it: I think for the remainder of my inbox, I didn’t answer because physically, I was just too damn exhausted, and I kept waiting for a point in time where I’d feel better. Sorry to put a limit on the personalization, but in the end, that’s all there was to it, and rephrasing it a dozen times will make me crazy.

And here we are.

Well.

Good grief, do you guys even have any clue how much I like all of you?

Obviously there’s a lot of guilt in the above, because I can’t tell you how much I wanted, each time, to give a great answer that would make you thrilled you messaged me. I am so sorry to all of these I didn’t get to. There were days when the alerts in my inbox were the best thing to happen to me, and I never wanted to let any of them go without acknowledgment.

I try to say thank you as often as I can in my responses, because that’s as close as I can get to reminding you all, constantly, that I am grateful for your participation. The only times I don’t say it is when I worry that it’ll look like it’s being done out of habit, not genuine gratitude. Or when I think you might take it the wrong way if I say thanks for a basic conversation. Because you provide me content and make me interested in things I might not normally look twice at.

There are so many instances of people saying hi, and thank you, and wishing everyone well here.

I haven’t been active in the larger fandom in two years, but I have always been so happy that you guys kept dropping by my space anyway.

You are a pleasure and light in my life, no matter how much snark I might throw about.

Thank you all.

[calypsoff]

Ten. Part 2

Watching Chris walk off with the cake and I am just stood in one position, my legs refuse to move from this spot. All I can do is stare at him; he brings me great joy in my heart. I feel like I did when I first met him, when we were both teenagers, I feel the same again. I know it’s scary to feel this way but it’s deeper then this, I couldn’t even function if life was without him, I just feel like if I lost him again I wouldn’t know what to do with myself, he is the love of my life, the love I have craved “go on then” Chris said smirking “why are you staring at me” watching him place the cake down on the kitchen counter, he is giving me a weird look because I am acting weird to him but I just realised I want him, I am going to ask him if we can just be official and date now. Still in private but I really want it, I want that. I would give up my whole career, like I have felt the loneliness in my heart for a while now, no man has ever knocked me off my feet like he has me, he’s my best friend and I want him so much “do you want me to carry you or?” I chuckled “I am walking” putting my head down, let’s see where this takes me “are you not going to come with me?” I asked, looking up from the roses “nope, you take this journey alone coconut head, I put real effort in so move” I sighed out, unzipping my coat “just throw it on the couch I will put it away” he is too kind, throwing my coat to the coach but it kind of missed, let me start walking now and find out what he has been up too, I am just in awe with everything he has done for me.

Walking up the steps slowly, he’s really made sure every step has roses on it. Holding the handrail as I walked up the steps, looking down at Chris, he looked up catching me looking and he just smiled “you are so slow, annoying ass” I have to take in every moment, he will deal with it. A few more steps to reach, seeing the bed just as I reached the top. This cabin is cute as fuck, not going to lie. My smile grew at the heart shape on the bed, seeing the easel at the side of the bed just wrapped in wrapping paper. Picking the note from the bed, opening up the note “open it” I read out, an arrow pointing to the easel. Ripping the paper slowly, pushing the paper back as it exposed a painting “oh my god” ripping more of it as it exposed a painting of me and Dolly “I love it” I said “I know how much you loved your gran” I jumped as Chris spoke behind me “and it sucks that she isn’t here, so I just thought I could bring you both together in a painting form” turning to Chris, seeing the flowers, bear and card in his hand “Happy Valentine’s day too, I didn’t say or do anything for you. That is because I was busy planning for this, you didn’t say anything, but I know it must have upset you, women like to be spoilt with love. And it’s not much it’s things” I was bitter he didn’t mention it “I mean the painting is just for your birthday, but I got more, but this is Valentines day things” I cooed out, I am so emotional “this is more then enough, stop thinking that” walking over to him.

Squinting my eyes “the bear, like I know we will be apart a lot. I predict this already, but it doesn’t bother me. I mean it does bother me a lot but then again it doesn’t because I know you out there doing the good deed with the world and you are the peoples idol, you know it’s funny because I don’t know. Youtube been playing dumb, I just ended up on a video and it was a girl crying and how much she loves you, she was showing her bedroom and you are adored so much out there in the world and I love that, so like I know you going to be busy so I got this bear made out of my hoodie, my favourite Lakers hoodie, and it says Chris here on his foot so I am always there with you, wherever you go” he placed the flowers and card down, a sob left my lips. I can’t even “like look at this, you can put the hood over it’s head too, pretty dope. Like when I saw it, I had to do it. But this is my favourite hoodie and I wanted to let you have that. I get it Robyn, it’s hard and I have had time to think. Either I be a supportive man and let you shine or just be bitter about it all and stress you out. There is always time for us but this is your Chris bear” I am a mess. I sobbed out like a baby “don’t cry, Robyn. Seriously. Why are you crying?” Chris placed his arms around me, the floodgates have opened.

Resting my head on Chris’ chest as I am trying to calm myself down, little sobs left my lips, but Chris held me close “it’s ok, don’t cry. Look how cute the bear is” he held it in front of my face “it’s Chris bear, it’s yours and you can hug it, hump it” I giggled “like you can if you want but you going to hold it?” he nuzzled the bear into my face “hold me” he said in a squeaky voice, moving my head back. Taking the bear from Chris “I love it” I swallowed back, my eyes feel so sore now “this is really going to be with me everywhere now, like you” Chris chuckled “you already holding it like a baby too” he is right I am “thank you, so well thought out” Chris leaned down and grabbed the envelope “next!” he held it out to me “let me take this” he snatched the bear from me “more tears?” I said smirking at him “maybe, I don’t know yet. I feel so nervous about this, you know that. Like I seem very cool, but I just want to do good by you, you deserve the world. I mean I can try, but you know” opening the envelope slowly “Chris, this is more then enough. All I wanted for my birthday is you, just to spend time with you, anything you are doing and buying. It means so much to me, you know what. You may laugh but, you’re the first guy to buy me a bear. Because I am Rihanna, the guys tend to go above and I don’t want above, I just want below. I guess it’s because they really weren’t into me” pulling the card out, turning around the card to read it.

“When I tell I love you I don’t say it out of habit or to make conversation, I say it to remind you that you are the best thing that has happened to me” I cooed out “baby, that is so cute! And you picked this out?” I have to ask “of course, open it!” I am scared now, what has he put inside it. Slowly opening the card “Robyn Fenty, will you be my girlfriend?” I read out and I just felt the emotion hit me, putting the card down as I just cried out and I know why but then it’s stupid “that wasn’t supposed to make you cry? Was that bad?” shaking my head, I feel stupid “I missed the opportunity that time, when you were going to ask me out. I really wanted to date you back then, but I had the lack of English, like it wasn’t good but you were kind to me, it was a lot and now it’s just, it’s come full circle and I feel just emotional about it” Chris hugged me “man, I ain’t mean to make you cry like that. It’s fine, we can make up for lost time. Like if you didn’t just go I was going to ask you out, like that was going to happen no doubt but you were gone. Who cares though, like you said it’s come full circle and we are together now” Chris pressed a kiss to the top of my head “I have never cried like this in front of a man, I hate you” Chris chuckled “now you hate me, stop crying then. You happy though” he moved back from the hug “more then happy, wow. I am just a mess because of you, I didn’t expect this, like ok I was a little hurt you never really mentioned about Valentines, you just shrugged it off like it was nothing. I even text you and you ignored it and said when are you coming again, I was cursing you out behind the phone. But then I figured you ain’t my man so am I to complain, you know. But thank you for this, you have made up for it. And yes” nodding my head “I will be your girlfriend, I feel like a teenager all over again now” I giggled, walking over to him raising my arms to wrap around his neck “love you” pecking his lips and then hugged him.

Chris yanked the cake back again “see, this is why I didn’t want you to feed me cake, you’re being annoying” I knew he would do this, as soon as he mentioned let me feed you cake “fine, I will stop” he bought it closer to my face, leaning forward to bite a piece off “mhmm” nodding my head “that is nice, now can I eat my own cake” watching Chris eat the piece and walk off “I was going to say, least we got time this time” he jumped onto the kitchen counter, I guess that is his piece now “I felt like last time, we just had to get the sex out of the sex. Well the love making, but now we can just you know, be cool. So we are doing nothing at all today, but tomorrow we got a little something. Let your birthday commence but today is like Valentines day make up, I ain’t a bad person. I was just busy, but it didn’t hurt saying it. But yeah, going back to what you said, did that shit really affect you, because you sing it’s fine. Did it really upset you back then? The English part” letting out an oh, I was about to say “It was hard, like now I am fine. My accent is there but it’s not like I struggle with it, but then because my Barbadian accent was so strong and I was used to that, when I came here I did find it hard. Then some kids would mimic me, I didn’t like it. You didn’t do that to me, you teased me more about my forehead then anything. I would get tongue tied too, I got teased. Remember when that boy shouted where my foreign boobs gone?” Chris’ eyebrows rose “I do, I beat his ass. I don’t regret it either, like a lot of niggas mention or should I say mentioned your boobs. I was like what is even the point, but I beat his ass for you, and he apologised. After that, nobody fucked with you. I bet they regret fucking with you like that, look at you now. Baddest princess of them all” I grinned at Chris “it’s made me stronger anyways, you think we are good for each other. You think we will make it” I mean it’s early, but I just wanted to ask “if I stop being hard headed, then I suppose yes we will. It’s more acceptance of you, because it’s all good and well loving Robyn, but what about Rihanna. That is the part where I am like dang, she really is famous and people love her, she is top tier. Then I am like she is Robyn, but you Robyn. I love that for you though, success. We about to sing Mariah Carey tonight, the stars outside here. The lady said they be shining” he is such a romantic, like I just want to love him forever and keep close to me.

The best ever idea Chris has was this, I mean I wasn’t expect a cabin but it’s so cute. Not the part where he near burned us alive here “can we not take out that wood fire now, after those shenanigans of lighting it” Chris smiled as he moved back his cigarette “I tried man” he blew out the smoke “shit wasn’t lighting, you good? You unpacked your dress now?” Chris shuffled to me can placed his arm around me “I did, I also unpacked your stuff. Then I just answered some stuff, I am not being rude or invasive but how did you pay for this?” I don’t want to seem rude “drugs” he placed his cigarette between his lips eyeballing me “don’t be playing in my face like that, seriously!?” he shook his head laughing “insurance” he mumbled “insurance money, it wasn’t even that much. You worth it anyways” I breathed, thank god it was just that “I don’t want you to go above and beyond for me Chris. Also you need to move, you being in Virginia alone gives me anxiety” it really does “I know, moving to Texas” I gasped looking up at him “you think I am going to California? I would need to sell my soul to do that, I need to keep it minimum. I am going to move, soon” least he is thinking of it “you can always move with me” Chris moved away from me laughing “don’t your ass live in rentals and hotels, yeah right” he is not wrong actually.

Chris held the blunt up as I finally left the cabin to sit on the step “she wasn’t wrong about the stars here, it’s kind of creepy but in a ok way I guess” grabbing the blunt from Chris as I sat down “it’s ok here, like it safe. There is other cabins further away, we literally entered security, how you going to act like it’s unsafe, I got you. I will beat their asses for you” placing the blunt between my lips smiling, resting my head on his shoulder looking up at the stars. This is peace, Chris placed the blanket over my legs, didn’t even see he had this out. Blowing the smoke out from my lips “hope you don’t feel like I am hiding you, like I am ashamed of you because I’m not” I hope he doesn’t think that “I don’t, I get it. it’s going to be hard, but we will do it” I hope we do; I hope we are greater than this. Chris started to hum a tune, lifting my head up squinting my eyes at him trying to catch the tune “you'll always be a part of me, I'm part of you indefinitely” he started to sing which made me laugh “Boy don't you know you can't escape me, oh darling cause you'll always be my baby” I finished off as we both laughed.

[ineedbackgroundmusicinmylife]

Hey guys! Here is another short story based on one of the prompts by @writing-prompt-s (thanks a lot!). I hope you enjoy reading it! Feel free to give me your suggestions

------

Prompt :

You can taste lies. One day, you're comforting your best friend after a tough breakup and almost vomit at the foul taste the words "After all, you're only human" bring

--------

Story :

I know you are lying.

The number of times I have used this sentence tends to infinity. Many people are surprised everytime I catch their lie. How did you do it? You are really good at body language reading! How do you know that? No one else has ever caught my lies! I hear these quite a lot.

But I'm not good at body language detection or reading people. The truth is, I can taste lies. Not figuratively. Literally. I hear a lie and a foul taste develops in my mouth. Bigger the lie fouler the taste.

Due to this reason I never made many friends. You must be wondering how being able to taste lies is linked with me not making friends.....

The thing is, people lie quite easily and quite a lot these days. Any party I attend or any event I go to brings a foul taste to my mouth. A constant gagging feeling. So I never went out much. I have a couple of good friends though. And I am happy in my small group.

No one know about this ability of mine. Well, no one except my best friend. But she doesn't believe me. She thinks I'm joking.

Fast forward to today, when she comes to my apartment looking like she has been crying for eternity. I had no clue about what had happened. I take her inside and sit down on the couch with her.

"What's wrong? Why have you been crying?"

No reply.

I get a glass of water for her and start rubbing her back. Waiting for her to speak. We just sit there in silence. She finally speaks up.

"We broke up."

I close my eyes. I knew this was gonna happen one day. The guy she was dating always lied about where he had been and what he had been doing. I even tried to tell her. But she never belived me. She was too happy in her own world.

I pull her into a hug as she starts sobbing uncontrollably.

"Hey hey hey. Listen to me. It's okay. You deserve someone better than him."

She pulls away from the hug and stares at me as if I had said something offensive.

"It's okay? Are you serious? How will it ever be okay? He just cheated on me and dumped me for that other girl. You really think I deserve anything? No. There is obviously something wrong with me, whuch is why he had to find someone else."

I shake my head.

"No. That is not how that works. It was his fault. He shouldn't have cheated. If he had an issue with you, he should have talked about it."

I hold her hands and look at her.

"No-one is perfect Rose. After all, you are only human."

The moment these words leave my mouth, I gag on the bitter and foul taste that fills my mouth. It makes me want to vomit. I stand up and step away from her. I don't know why I did that. She looks up at me, surprised and slightly hurt.

"So even you don't wanna be with me now. Great."

She gets up and starts walking towards the door. I am too shocked to react.

"What are you?"

It comes out as a whisper. I wasn't expecting her to hear it, but she stops in her tracks and turns around. We stand there in silence. She slowly lets out a breath.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You know damn well what I mean by that."

She raises her hands up in frustration

"No I don't!"

Another lie.

"You are lying. You know I can catch lies. There's no use hiding whatever your secret is. I know you are not- I know your something else."

She closes her eyes and lets out a sigh.

"So you can really taste lies huh."

I stay silent. She stays silent. 5 minutes pass. 10. 15.

She finally takes a deep breath and sits down on the couch, gesturing me to do the same.

I don't move.

"Please. Give me a chance to explain. And if you think I'm lying... Well there is no point in me lying is there?"

I give it a moment's thought. If she wanted to harm me, she would have. We've been friends for a long time.

I slowly take a step towards the couch and take a seat, maintaining some distance between us.

She closes her eyes and starts speaking.

"Ok so. First of all, you were right, I'm not human."

I scoot away from her a little. She notices the move and I can see the hurt in her eyes. I shouldn't have done it. But I couldn't stop myself. She continues.

"Have you ever heard of The Erinyes?"

I shake my head. I hear her let out a sigh.

She mumbles something under her breath.

"The Erinyes? The Furies? I'm sure you've heard of them."

The Furies. That name rings a bell. Some mythological character. Was it Roman? No, Greek? Hades?

"Aren't they like the punishment enforcers for Hades or something?"

"Yeah sure. Why not."

She sounded very annoyed.

"Well, I am one of the three Furies."

It takes me a moment to comprehend that statement. I'm not throwing up which means that she is speaking the truth.

But how could this be possible? One of the Furies? My best friend? What was going on?

She lets the silence hang over us. No explanation, no reasoning. Just a plain simple fact.

I look at her and manage to get a single word out.

"Why?"

She blinks in disbelief and bursts out laughing.

I am just left staring at her in disbelief. She tells me she is one of the most feared creature of the Underworld and then she laughs? Seriously?

"I was not expecting that question."

"Well I expect an answer."

I want to smack myself. Why am I even takimg to a Fury like that? If she wants she could yeet me to the Underworld right now. Ughh.

"Ok. I'll give you an answer. Come on."

She gets up and offers her hand to me. I obviously stay glued to the couch.

"Where are we going?"

"To see Lord Hades. Where else?"

I lost it at thus point. I get up from the couch and bolt for the door. I was not going to let this crazy lady-creature kill me.

But obviously I don't go far before she pulls me back.

"Oh come on! I'm not going to kill you! Just come with me. This wasn't supposed to come out but now that it has, I have to take you to Lord Hades. He is the only one who can explain this mess."

After she realises that I am not going to move from my place, she lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls her eyes.

"Look. I said I won't kill you, means I won't kill you. The underworld is a big place. It has more than one door. And please, don't delay this. I'm already annoyed thinking of the conversation he is gonna have with me."

She groans.

"I should never have come to you after the break up."

Dang. Both of us completely forgot about the break up thing huh?

"But if you are a Fury, how come you were dating him? Was that a setup?"

She looks at me and winks.

"A lady is allowed to have her fun. As long as I am stuck in the human form, why not have the full experience, right?"

"Now if you are done with your questions, we have a long journey ahead. So please. Let's go."

I think about for a moment.

"Ok then. Let's go."

----------

Taglist :

@awesomeuvinthings @sitorrothekitsune @grace-k-sterling @scarletteflamerald

[thebonggirll]

Chapter 20 - Final Match

Chapter 19

Y/N took some time to rest and finally, got ready to watch the last and final match. Midoriya went back soon after their last conversation. She needed support from Kyoka to walk properly as her legs weren't still healed yet but she was able to stand on her own for some time. As she went to the stands, everyone immediately started congratulating her for coming third athough she didn't feel that great, knowing she didn't even give her best in the fight.

"Where are they?" Y/N asked sitting down in one of the front seats.

"Patience sweetheart. Your boyfriend is gonna be here soon." Kyoka said, smirking.

"Yeah but he's too fucking stupid and reckless." Y/N said, "Also, please stop calling him that and be a little less obvious." She looked around in search of Shinso, hoping to get a chance to thank him. But soon enough, Present Mic announced, "Welcome to the final battle in U.A. High School Sports Festival! In just a moment here today, we will know which first year student is on top!" and she decided to find him later.

The fight ended faster than expected. Although Midoriya cheered for Todoroki and told him to give his all, he stopped abruptly in the middle. In the end, when Bakugou used his special move, Todoroki used his left side for a moment, but something changed his mind and he didn't. When the dust cleared up, Bakugou looked up forward and saw Todoroki at the other end, lying unconscious.

"He looks really mad..." Kyoka commented.

"It's natural. It has been his dream to be the best for a long time..." Y/N said, her eyes fixed on the scene unfolding in front of her. Bakugou got up and walked to his opponent, his figure looked a bit weary. And he started shouting at Todorki, holding him by his collar. But after a while, he fell unconscious as Midnight used her quirk and announced Bakugou as the winner.

Bakugou has a dream and he believes in himself. He knows what he is capable of and he wants to be the on the top and the best. But not this way. One look at his expression was all it took to understand that he didn't want to be the winner like that where his opponent refused to use his full power on him. As the medical team came and took him to the nurse, Y/N got up and started limping there to see him, along with his whole squad ofcourse. It wasn't that she just cared about Bakugou. She was also worried about Todoroki who looked way broken from the very beginning. Maybe Y/N was a bit bitter about him winning against her but that didn't mean she was insensitive. Both the boys were hurt physically and mentally.

As soon as they arrived, Bakugou's rough voice entered their ears. He was sitting on the bed grumbling at first, but then he became aggressive as Todoroki refused to answer any of his questions.

"Hey, are you guys doing okay?" Kirishima asked.

But Bakugou wasn't listening. His emotions took over and he just wasn't ready to listen to anyone. Some people came in along with Midnight and put him on restraint. "I think it's best if you leave them alone for now." Recovery Girl said.

As they were going to leave, Midnight stopped Y/N and said, "Stay here. We will escort you together when the award ceremony begins."

"Okay." Y/N said and quietly sat down on a chair nearby. She turned to Todoroki and said hesitantly, "....I don't know how or what you feel but I just hope you get better. I know both you can do much better than that. I... that's all I can say." He looked down and just nodded his head. She turned towards Bakugou who was still going beserk. And although she wanted to just talk to him, she just couldn't gather the courage. It is his dream and no amount of assurance can bring back the time. So she just let him vent his anger.

The door opened and a staff said, "It's time."

As they were standing in their positions, All Might made an entry and started giving their medals. Everyone from the first year were standing before them, except Iida. Y/N didn't hear a single word from him or see him after their match. And for the kind of person he is, she knew he would've been the first to congratulate her, knowing that they fought each other. She decided to pay no attention to it and concentrated on All Might standing before her.

"I know you have more potential, Y/N. Don't be down for what happened in the match. Focus on training and getting better. You'll become a great hero in the future for sure." He said, hugging her in assurance after awarding her the bronze medal.

In the afternoon, they were back in the class. Aizawa said, "Nice work. You have the next two days of school off to recuperate. I am sure that the pros who watched the festival will wanna recruit some of you. We will cover the drafts forms and update you when you return."

"Yes sir!"

Everyone was tired and just wanted to go home that day. But ofcourse, Y/N was worried about the 'controversial image' that Kyoka was talking about. She had to, didn't she? Her brother and her parents had a reputation to keep which can be brought down just because of her. But no, her family wasn't anything like she thought. Obviously they were in the entertainment industry and scandals were always surrounding them, but they have the experience and knew how to shut them up. They have always handled these before. Y/N was just too busy with her own training to go up and search for such things. And her family was more than glad to avoid making their little daughter worry about it.

"Hey." she heard Shinso while walking down the stairs.

"Oh dang, sorry I didn't notice you...I was just tired." Y/N smiled, "And thank you for coming to see me after I lost the match."

"I wanted to see how you looked with your mouth shut for once." He said.

".....that's kinda rude."

"I am joking." He said.

"Then laugh or smile next time because I thought you were serious man." she stopped by the gate and said, "Oh I asked for you number before, remember?"

"Yes." He said taking her phone. She quickly saved his number and bid goodbye to him.

She was in no rush today, so she took her time to walk to the bus stop.

"You came to the nurse's office today." A voice growled behind her. She stopped and looked behind.

"I wanted to know if my friends were okay." Y/N said calmly. She would've dodged it if it was any other day. But just this one day, knowing what Bakugou was going through, she wanted to clear up atleast some things for him. And besides, she was too tired to come up with any excuses.

"That half-and-half fucking bastard is your friend?" Bakugou smirked, "Ofcourse he is, knowing how both of you have twisted minds."

"Don't belittle people's issues like that. It takes years to get over some things. " Y/N said as she started walking again, "And I said 'friends' if you didn't hear properly."

"I am not fucking wasting my time on some extra like you."

"I don't know what's the issue you have with me but I do consider you my friend, whether you like it or not. You don't have to call me yours, just because I do. I..uh..I get worried okay?" Y/N said blushing, "I am too tired. Bye." She didn't wait for him to cuss her out or see his expression and started running to get home as fast as her legs could take.

"What the fucking hell?" Bakugou stood with a little blush on his face and muttered, "I am just embarassed."

There was no one to listen, yet it felt like he was trying to convince someone.

Chapter 21

SEASON - II

Ignite

MASTERLIST

tags: @captncappuccino​

[fiftyshadesofcorona]

Fifty Shades of Corona

A Brief Note Before You Begin

This novel is intended to be semi-satirical and "so stupid that it's funny", so please do not take it too seriously. It is meant to be savored enjoyed, sip by precious sip, like a fine wine…or something…either alone or amongst your most well-humored friends.

Epigraph

“But it is only in epic tragedies that gloom is unrelieved. In real life tragedy and comedy are so intermingled that when one is most wretched ridiculous things happen to make one laugh in spite of oneself.”

Georgette Heyer

Prelude

The forested roads of Northern Washington are eery and empty as I race back to him.

It was the last thing that I expected to happen during the global Coronavirus pandemic.

It came on fast, terrifying and all-consuming—gripping my heart and invading my mind.

I still can’t believe it…

I’ve fallen in love.

I glance over at my phone resting silently on the passenger’s side seat.

My stomach twists with grief and my knuckles go bone-white against the steering wheel.

Why hasn’t he called?!

What if—

I shake the thought away before I can finish it. If I let my mind go there it will be the end of me.

A few days ago, I didn’t even know he existed.

Now I don’t know whether I’ll ever be able to exist again without him.

I swipe at my cheeks, hot tears streaking my hand.

This is bad.

This is so so bad.

The seaside exit comes into view.

I lean forward and take a deep breath, trying to compose myself.

Nearly there.

I hope he’s okay.

I hope I can see him.

Even if it’s our last goodbye.

Tears well in my eyes.

I hope I’m not too late.

Chapter One

The Mob

“See you tomorrow, Ana! And thanks for bringing the cupcakes. They were delicious!”

I turn to wave goodbye to my coworker Jessica, who’s still busy stocking the shelves with sewing supplies. Jessica’s the only other worker here at Karen’s Krafts besides myself and our dome-haircut-wielding owner-slash-manager, Karen.

“I’m glad you liked them,” I say brightly. “They’re my grandmother’s recipe. Super easy.”

“No kidding?” she says, looking surprised. “Well tell your grandma her recipe was the bomb.”

“Will do. See you tomorrow!” I begin to clock out of the computer, but stop to add, “And good luck with the crowds. This Coronavirus stuff is crazy!”

Jessica steps back and gives me a look.

“Tell me about it! I’m running low on toilet paper, but nobody has it stocked.”

“Dang. That sucks.”

“Ch—tell me about it.”

I finish clocking out.

“Anyway,” I say, sighing. “I better get going. I have to make a run and try to pick up some…ahem…lady products…if you know what I mean.”

Jessica’s eyes get big. “Oh no, Ana. You can’t be serious!”

“Very serious. I’m all out.”

Jessica frowns. “I would give you some of mine if I had them, but I’m all out, too. Good thing it’s not my time of the month.”

My eyebrows arch up to my hairline. “Consider yourself lucky.”

“Shit, here she comes,” Jessica whispers.

When I look up, Jessica’s back at work stocking the bobbins and thread.

My manager Karen waddles up to the register and lingers over the back of my shoulder. I finish straightening up the counter, trying my best not to recoil from the hot puffs of breath hitting the back of my neck. I peek back at her dome haircut and put on my customer-service smile.

“What’s up? How did you like the cupcakes?”

I try to guess whether she has a complaint or is just bored. Those are the only two reasons I’ve ever seen Karen willingly leave her office. The unpleasant expression on her face tells me nothing, as it is a permanent feature of hers.

“Cupcakes?” she says distractedly. Glancing down, I notice she’s clutching a clipboard with something on it. Her lips move silently as she reads from whatever it is.

I clear my throat. “I brought some cupcakes this morning. German chocolate. Very tasty.”

She says nothing, so I grab my purse from under the counter. “I hoped they might cheer everybody up. You know, with the virus and all?”

“Virus?!” Her head snaps up, eyes bulging. “You have the virus?!”

“No, I made cupcakes to cheer every—“ I start to explain, but stop myself when I see the blind panic on her face. “No. I don’t have the virus.”

She relaxes and heaves a sigh of relief, which hits me square in the face.

The smell! I hold my breath and try not to make a face.

I shift my purse on my shoulder and open my mouth to tell her goodbye when she spits out, “Say, can I speak to you for a sec?”

Crap. This can’t be good.

“Sure,” I say, forcing cheer into my voice. I set my purse on the counter and wait for her to continue. She clears her throat wetly, looks down at her clipboard, then clears her throat again.

Yep, definitely bad news. I brace myself.

“Ana, we’ve decided to let you go.”

My shoulders tense, and there’s a rush of something terrible down in my stomach.

“Today is your last day,” she continues, reading robotically from her clipboard.

Is she serious? I’ve worked here for a year and a half, never been late for a single shift, and always gotten stellar performance reviews. I’m basically a model employee!

“Thank you for the work you’ve done here, and I wish you the best in your future endeavors,” she finishes.

“You’re firing me?” I ask in a small voice that surprises even me.

“Not exactly…but sort of.”

This can’t be happening. “Wh—what did I do wrong?”

“I didn’t say you did anything wrong, did I?” She looks put-out, another typical expression of hers.

My shoulders relax a little.

“Did you even listen to a word I said?” she says, shaking her head. “I said you’re being put on non-disciplinary indefinite leave.”

I cock my head, confused. “Um, I don’t think that’s what you said.”

She huffs and holds the clipboard back up.

“It’s exactly what I said. See, right here.”

She jabs a finger at the page, face reddening as she purses her lips.

Jeez. And I thought she looked unpleasant before…

She slaps the clipboard onto the counter. “Either way I’m saying it now.”

“So, I’m not fired?”

Crap. I’m so confused right now.

“No,” she huffs again. “You’re not fired. But you’re no longer scheduled for any shifts. And we’ll be taking you off the payroll.”

“Um…okay…”

That sounds a lot like being fired, but I decide not to push the subject.

Tears press at the corners of my eyes as I take a moment to process everything. Karen must notice, because she lets out another sigh and steps towards me. Her hand thumps heavily on my shoulder. “But I want you to know that it’s not you, it’s us.” She pats me once, then steps back, looking pleased with herself.

I suddenly feel like I’m going through an awkward breakup. Which I guess I am in a way.

“Wow. Um…What a surprise.” I catch myself wringing my hands so I stop. “Is it because of the virus?”

“Of course it’s because of the virus!” she shouts. “What else would it be? It’s certainly not my fault! I’ll have you know that Karen’s Krafts is extremely successful,” she gestures wildly. “Perhaps the most successful small business in all of Seattle!“

“You’re right, Karen.” I quickly say the three magic words that always calm her when she gets like this.

Sure enough, she lowers her arms and tries to composes herself.

“You probably haven’t noticed, Ana, but we’re not doing as much business as usual.”

In fact, I have noticed. The store has been totally dead for the last week and a half. But I don’t want to risk setting her off again, so I stay quiet. Luckily, she doesn’t seem to expect me to reply.

“Nothing like the grocery stores,” she says with a bitter laugh. She shakes her head and gives a shrug. “Just have to let some people go for the time being.”

“How long until I’m able to come back?”

She shrugs her shoulders again.

“No way to know. I’m only keeping Jessica because she’s my niece.”

I nod my head.

“Right, right. Makes sense.” Not really, but whatever. I’m totally against nepotism. It sucks and it’s everywhere, but there’s no getting away from it—sort of like Coronavirus.

“Of course it makes sense. That’s why I’m doing it!” Karen snaps. She snatches up her clipboard and turns to walk away. “Anyway, if things get better I’ll call you. Make sure you answer.”

“Thanks,” is all I can muster in response as she disappears into the restroom.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, everything sinks in.

I just lost my job.

During a global pandemic.

“Oh, and Ana!” Karen’s voice booms from the toilet.

I knew she’d change her mind!

“Yes?!” I call out brightly.

“Don’t forget to leave your name tag.”

My shoulders fall.

“Sure thing, Karen.” I unpin the familiar badge from my shirt and set it on the counter. It looks as small as I feel. I take a few deep breaths and turn to leave. All I want right now is to get the hell out of here and get home as soon as possible so I can relax, have a good cry, and think over what to do next.

A thought occurs to me.

What am I going to do about my rent?

Crap. I can feel the tears coming…

A second later, my sadness turns to anger, and I clench my fists.

This sucks so f-ing bad. Like, what the heck did I ever do to deserve this! Ugh!

I force myself to remain composed. This isn’t the time to break down into hysterics.

I give myself a little pep talk.

Calm down, Ana. You’re a fully grown, strong, capable young woman. You’ll get through this. All you need to do is grab hold of your big girl panties and ride them clear up the crack of your ass so hard there’s no chance in hell they’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.

Now that my spirits have been sufficiently lifted, I’m ready to take on the world. Or at the very least, my own small corner of it.

I stop in front of the exit to check my phone and notice seven missed phone calls and three missed text messages from my mother.

I roll my eyes. Of course. She’s a typical narcissistic, panicky boomer. At sixty-five years old she’s never worked a day in her life, attends church two to three times per week, and still believes in the magic of prayer. It may sound like I hate her, but I don’t. She annoys me, sure. But deep down I keep telling myself she has my best interest at heart, even if what her heart is telling her isn’t actually what’s in my best interest…if that makes any sense. With that said, whatever she has to say is certain to irritate me far beyond what I’m currently able to stand.

I decide to get it over with.

I take a deep breath and read the first text.

Mom: Ana, this is your mother. Just texting to let you know I called. I’m very worried about you with all of this virus stuff going on. Praying for you. Love Always, Your Mother.

Okay. Fairly normal so far given the circumstances. Maybe I was wrong to judge her so quickly.

I scroll down to the second text, which looks like it was sent…I squint to see—oh yes: exactly three minutes after the first one, and two minutes after the last three phone calls.

Mom: Ana, this is your mother. I’ve been praying and praying for you to call me back. I am deeply worried about you. I’ve tried calling you three more times. It’s not like you to ignore my phone calls, especially during such dark and uncertain times as these. Call me back as soon as you get this. My heart is hurting to know if my sweet little Ana is okay. Love Always, Your Mother.

A little worse this time, but not the worst I’ve seen.

I brace myself for the third text, which I know will be bad because it was sent exactly two minutes after the second text, and one minute after the last three calls.

Mom: Ana, this is your mother. I’m seriously freaking out right now. I keep having visions of you lying in a body bag, stiff as a frozen lamb chop and twice as cold. Why are you being such an obstinate, petulant child? I keep calling and calling, and still no answer. I keep praying and praying, but still no answer. Why aren’t you answering me, dear daughter? Why aren’t you answering me, dear Lord? My heart is heavy with sorrow and worry for the precious daughter I raised and nurtured by the milk of my own breasts. I’m so scared, sweet daughter. My nerves are frazzled and frayed beyond mortal repair. I feel as though I may collapse into a puddle of eternal sorrow. My heart is aching for you, my sweet dear little girl. My sweet, sweet precious daughter. Oh Lord, why have you forsaken her? Call me as soon as you get this. Love Always, Your Mother.

Okay, what the hell? I’m not even going to get started on how freaking weird that was.

I decide it might be better to wait until I get home to call her back. Something tells me the phone call won’t be quick, and I really need to get to the store to get my lady supplies, so I decide to opt for a text instead.

Ana: Calm down, Mom. I’m fine. I just got off work, and now I have to make a run to Wholesome Foods for some supplies. Please don’t worry. I’ll call you as soon as I get home. Love, Ana.

Hopefully that suffices to stave off the insanity.

My phone immediately pings with her reply.

Mom: Sounds good. Love Always, Your Mother.

Simple enough. A little odd, given the texts that came before it, but I’ll take it.

I pause and look out the front door before leaving. Beyond the window, thin sheets of rain coat the steamy sidewalks of Seattle. I notice most of the people who pass by look panicked. Ever since the Coronavirus started everyone has seemed more alert and on edge. At first I found it exciting, because they all seemed less depressed and more alive. But now it’s beginning to worry me.

I finger the small silver cross bracelet my grandmother gave me for my sixteenth birthday. It had been my great-grandmother’s before it was hers, but I never got the full story behind it. I do, however, remember her telling me it was for courage and strength, which is what I need most right now.

I take a deep breath and push through the door.

The door bell dings, and once I’m outside I breathe in the cool damp air. The rain is lighter than I expected—more of a mist really, so I decide to leave my umbrella unopened and gaze up at the silver clouds as they roil and swirl above me. There’s something wonderful about their movement, and I find myself getting lost in them.

DING! DING! DING! RIGHT SIDE!

My peaceful reverie is rudely interrupted.

DING! DING! DING! RIGHT SIDE!

Shit! Cyclists!

DING! DING! DING!…

I leap left at the last moment, barely dodging a small herd of spandex-clad cyclists thrusting through the crowd like they own the street. I brace myself against a tree to keep from falling over, when one of them—a middle-aged man-child with greying temples—looks back at me and scowls.

I put up my hand to apologize even though he’s probably the one who should be apologizing.

He turns and mutters something under his breath that sounds like “Bitch” and keeps pedaling.

I turn and bite my fingernail. What an asshole.

Crap.

I pull my fingers out of my mouth. That’s probably not the best thing I could be doing during a global viral outbreak.

I reach into my purse for some hand sanitizer and slather the cool alcohol over my fingers.

Two steps into my walk, my phone buzzes.

What now?

I check my phone. It’s Stacy, my best friend and roommate.

Stacy: Are you off work yet!?

My thumbs tap out a reply.

Ana: Just got off.

I look up from my phone. A woman who looks like she might have been sane a week ago but who is now basically a bag lady passes by me with a shopping cart full of bathroom supplies, screaming “Fuck you! Got mine!”

As she passes, I look closer at her hand and spot what appears to be a taser.

I pause and make a face. What the hell has this world come to?

My phone buzzes with another text.

Stacy: Cool. Check it. Blue fish bowls. Remember these things?

A cotton-candy-filtered photo pops up of Stacy slurping down a big blue fishbowl margarita.

I smile at Stacy’s exaggerated duck face.

Then I notice Dezzy in the background. Dezzy’s the friend Stacy brought down to Florida with her for Spring Break instead of me. She looks drunk as she flashes a peace sign with one hand and a middle finger with the other. Ugh. Dezzy can be such a… I’m not even going to say it. She’s always hated me for reasons, which is strange because I never had a problem with her. Oh well. Best to ignore it.

Ana: Looks like fun.

Stacy: ’Tis. ’Tis.

I’m tempted to tell her about being put on indefinite leave, but I don’t want to ruin her good time, so I tuck my phone away. The bad news can wait.

I pass by a homeless man trying to sell face masks on the street corner. As I pass by, I notice half of them are covered in dirt stains and are clearly used, and it’s obvious he’s been digging through the local hospital dumpster to find them.

He shoves one in my face.

“Twenty dollars!”

I move away from him. “No thanks.”

He follows me a few steps. “Ten dollars!”

I shake my head, wincing.

“Five!”

“I’m fine,” I laugh nervously. “Really.”

“Fine. One dollar. Final offer.”

“But they look like you found them in a dumpster, sir!”

“Still good. See, clean enough.” He dangles it in front of my face and turns it so I can see all the sides.

I pull out a dollar and hand it to him, but tell him he can keep the mask.

“You need a mask,” he says, and tries to put it on my face.

“Fine, I’ll take it.” I quickly grab the mask out of his hand before he’s able to touch my face with it.

“God bless!” he spits through his last remaining tusk, and turns to his next victim.

I hold the mask as far away from my body as possible, and toss it in the nearest garbage can. When I turn back to see if the homeless man saw me I catch him glaring at me.

“Sorry,” I mouth.

He scurries over to the garbage can to retrieve it.

Shit!

I run through the crowd to get away from him, and I don’t stop until I’m nearly a block away, where I pull out my phone and text Stacy.

Ana: You should see it here, Stacy. Things are getting crazy.

Stacy: Yeah, no shit. I saw the news. Seattle blows. Florida is way more fun!

Ana: I bet. How’s the silver fox hunt going?

FYI, the real reason Stacy’s down in Florida for Spring Break is to hunt for an older man to marry. And when I say old, I mean like really old. See, Stacy’s life didn’t pan out quite like she had hoped. She failed out of college during her first semester and can’t seem to hold down a job. In her mind, the next logical step is to marry into money. And since most guys with money are older, she figures the older he is the more she’s hedging her bet.

I look around at all the depressed and desperately overworked faces passing by and can’t help but wonder if maybe she’s onto something.

Stacy: Sucks so far. Nothing but poor frat guys with big muscles and orange tans. All the silver foxes are holed up in hiding from the stupid virus.

Ana: Dang. Bad timing.

Stacy: You’re telling me. It’s hard out here for a bitch!

I smile, but it doesn’t last long. Something about her comment reminds me that I’m out of a job.

Should I tell her now?

Probably.

Ana: I feel like I’m about to cry, Stacy. Karen basically just fired me.

Stacy: What!? Why would she fire you? You’re like the best employee ever?

Ana: Well, technically she put me on indefinite leave.

Stacy: What the freak is that?

Ana: It means I don’t get a paycheck for who knows how long, and I don’t know when they’ll hire me back…if ever.

Stacy: That sucks, Banana. I’m sorry. How the heck are we going to pay the rent?

Yeah, she calls me Banana. It’s a play on Ana, if you missed it. She’s clever like that.

Ana: It’s okay. I’ll be okay. I’m not sure about the rent, though.

But I’m not okay. My eyes grow hot with tears. What am I going to do for money? Where will I live if we get evicted?

Stacy: Shit. I just realized I won’t have any money left after this trip. Hopefully I can find a silver fox fast. :(

Ana: Hopefully. :(

I turn the corner and see a long line of customers waiting outside Wholesome Foods. People are crammed together, yelling and jostling for position, and for some reason it reminds me of the movie The Night of the Living Dead.

Double crap.

A heavy wave of sickness washes over me, and I feel like I might pass out.

I really don’t want to go to the store right now, so I rifle through my purse in a last ditch effort to find a tampon to hold me over until tomorrow. My fingers find a string.

Ah ha!

But wait…

I pull it out.

Crap.

Not only is it out of its wrapper, it’s covered in lint and snack crumbs and looks like it’s old enough to attend kindergarten.

I drop it back into my purse and tap out a question to Stacy.

Ana: Do tampons expire?

Stacy: No, they’re like condoms. They last forever.

Ana: Um… Are you sure?

Stacy: Totally sure.

I want to trust her, but I’m pretty sure she’s wrong. Looks like I’ll have to wait in line.

I step into line behind a mother and her five children, one of whom is screaming at the top of it’s lungs for no reason.

My phone buzzes with a new text.

Stacy: Hey bitch. How’s your depressing life?

What the?

That was out of nowhere. How many fish bowls has Stacy had so far? Jeez.

I try to figure out how to respond when another text comes in.

Stacy: I’m glad you didn’t come down here with us. It’s better for everyone.

I shake my head, confused.

Ana: Excuse me?

Stacy: Sorry, Dez took my phone.

Ana: Oh. That explains it.

Stacy: Dez was just joking.

Uh huh. Right.

The line moves forward a few steps, and when it stops the crowd lets out a collective sigh.

Stacy: We both wish you were here. You should have come with.

Ana: Somebody had to stay and look after the apartment… Besides, it’s probably not the nicest thing to be down there partying and putting so many people at risk.

Stacy: Get off your high horse Banana! You decided not to go long before the virus happened.

I can’t say she’s wrong.

Stacy begged me to go but I opted to save money and get some extra hours at work.

Oh, the irony.

But if I had decided to go on the trip, I like to think I would have cancelled as soon as I knew it would be putting people at risk. Still, there’s no use in arguing with Stacy.

Ana: I’m probably just jealous.

Stacy: As you should be. Florida is so much better than dreary depressing Seattle.

Ana: Yeah, if you like living in a giant trailer park filled with bugs, alligators, and old people.

Stacy: LoL

I laugh a little as the line moves forward a few paces.

Stacy: Seriously though. Take it easy on the old people. They’re my last ticket to freedom.

Ana: I still think you can do better for yourself, but what do I know?

Stacy: Obviously not much. Face it, I’m fucked if I can’t find a rich man to marry.

She might be right, but I refuse to agree.

Stacy: Besides, old guys are hot. I’m surprised you don’t look for one yourself, given your present circumstance.

I can’t say I’ve ever found older-older men hot. Unless of course the guy was only a little bit older. Then I’d be fine with it.

Ana: I guess I just think I have more potential than that. I’d like to earn my own living and independence some day, even if it’s hard.

There’s a brief pause where she doesn’t reply, and I wonder if I offended her.

Ana: At least that’s what I’m hoping for. Who knows if it will happen.

Stacy: You do you and I’ll do me, Banana.

I roll my eyes.

Ana: Come on, I’m sure there are plenty of decent jobs you could get that don’t require a college degree.

Stacy: Ew gross! I’d rather kill myself than work for a living. Fuck that.

I laugh. She’s right in a way. Work sucks major ass. The only times I’m ever truly unhappy are when I’m at work.

Ana: There might be some truth to what you’re saying.

Stacy: Just wait. One of these days some rich older guy is going to catch your eye. Then you’ll change your mind.

I think it over.

Ana: Okay, and say that does happen. How do you expect I’ll get him? It’s not like I have much to offer besides my youth.

Stacy: Not true. You look great, Banana.

Ana: Whatever. I know what I look like.

Stacy: You don't give yourself enough credit. You’re gorgeous. And totally smart.

Even though I know she’s just saying these things to cheer me up, I still can’t help but smile.

Ana: But seriously, how does one go about snagging a rich man?

Stacy: What you need are some good pick up lines.

Right…

I look up and see that the line has moved quite a bit from where I started. At this rate I’ll be inside in no time.

Stacy: Here’s one I’ve been practicing for my hunt… Have you ever been arrested? Because your looks are killer.

I roll my eyes.

Ana: Maybe I’ll give it a try some day.

Stacy: Do it. You won’t be disappointed.

A fight breaks out at the front of the line.

Seconds later, the two guys fighting are escorted away by a masked security guard and the line moves forward to fill the gap.

As I near the entrance, the crowd noise grows louder, and a swarm of customers break through the exit.

Crap! They’re charging right at me.

I quickly side-step out of their way and a middle-aged white woman with a dome haircut shoves past me into the store, making me do a double-take.

Phew. Not Karen.

As the woman passes by, I overhear a small portion of her phone conversation:

“I’m pretty sure I have it. I’m going to the doctor right now. I just have to stop at Wholesome Foods real quick.”

Holy crap. This place is like a war zone or something.

I enter the store close behind Karen Number 2.

Once inside, I immediately notice two things:

1. Nobody in this store seems to be wearing a mask, and…

2. All the grocery carts and baskets are gone.

I take a deep breath.

Everything’s okay, I tell myself. Just improvise and get out as fast as you can.

I hurry past the entrance and into the toiletry section.

Okay…tampons…where are the tampons?

I look down an aisle and see people lined up at the pharmacy, scrambling for asthma medication and pills. Thank goodness I’m fairly healthy and don’t need any medication. If push comes to shove, I can get by for months on my one-a-day multivitamin.

I step into the feminine hygiene aisle where a group of frustrated women are looking around frantically.

One of them says to the others, “Where are the fucking tampons!”

I look over the shelves, and they’re nearly empty.

Come on…tampons…tampons…there has to be one more pack somewhere.

I start digging through the merchandise, checking back behind the other products.

No luck.

Okay. Think, Ana. Think. What could you do?

My phone buzzes with a text.

Stacy: Where did you go?

Ana: There aren’t any tampons at the store! What am I going to do?”

Stacy: Okay. I’m calling you.

American Girl blares through my phone speakers.

I hold the phone out in front of me and right as I’m about to accept the call a scruffy-looking guy appears out of nowhere and sneezes all over the front of my screen.

I look up at him, totally grossed out.

“Sorry, dude,” he says, then disappears down the aisle.

Crap. There’s no way I’m holding this thing up to my head now.

The song keeps playing, tinny notes ringing out.

A rude woman nearby screams, “Answer your goddamn phone!”

“Sorry,” I mutter, and tap the speakerphone button, careful to avoid the spit droplets on the screen.

The first thing I and everybody within a twenty-five-foot radius hears is an obnoxious slurping sound.

Several shoppers turn and glare at me, so I hurry into a side aisle where there aren’t as many people. “Geez, Stacy. What are you drinking?” I hiss at the phone. “You sound like Lord Buttcrack with his ten gallon gas station sodas.”

Lord Buttcrack is the nickname Stacy and I have given our fat, greedy, disgusting landlord, on account of the fact that we’ve never seen him without half of his butt crack hanging out of his pants.

“Hold it right there,” Stacy says. “Don’t you dare ever compare me to Lord Buttcrack. I love you dearly, but that’s taking it too far. Besides, he sounds more like a butthole.”

I laugh at her drunken simile. “I don’t like that image. Why are you thinking about his butthole?”

“Hey, where there’s a crack, there’s always a hole.”

Um…

“As to your first question,” she continues, “I just finished my third Blue Ocean Fishbowl.”

“Holy crap! You drank three of them? Don’t they come in, like, a literal fish bowl?”

“Mm-hm. And the alcohol content is through the roof.”

“Something tells me you’re going to regret this.”

“Doubt it.”

I sigh.

“Anyway, back to my tampon problem.”

“Where did Joey go?” Dezzy’s voice cuts in.

“Who the hell is Joey?!” Stacy shouts.

“The guy with the muscles, duh,” Dezzy moans in the background.

“They all have muscles!” Stacy cries.

“Ugh…the one with the tan!”

“They all have tans!”

“Hello!?” I say loudly into the phone.

“Oh, sorry. Seriously, Dezzy is being such a bitch.”

“You’re the fucking bitch, bitch!” Dezzy laugh-screams in the background.

“Whatever…” Stacy says. “Back to the problem at hand. Can’t you just wear pads?”

“They’re out of those, too.”

A woman nearby overhears our conversation and approaches me.

“Pads? Did someone say pads? Where are the pads? I need more pads! There have to be more pads!”

Stacy starts laughing so hard she begins to choke.

The woman’s frantic energy scares the crap out of me, so I back away from her and hurry into the clothing section, which seems to be the only empty part of the store.

I duck down under some hanging dresses and tops. “Seriously, Stacy. What should I do?”

“Let me think…” Stacy muses. “Oh, I know! A while back I was watching this TV show about these female prison inmates…”

Great.

“Okay?”

“Bare with me,” she says, sensing my doubt.

“K.”

“Anyway, whenever the prison ran out of tampons, the women would just wad up a bunch of toilet paper and shove it up their pussies.”

Genius. Simply genius.

A woman with a stroller opens the clothing rack and pokes her head in. “Could you keep it down with the profanity? Children are nearby!”

“Fuck off, lady!” Stacy screams at her through the phone.

The woman scoffs and throws the clothing rack closed.

“It’s not the worst idea,” I say. “Only problem is they’re all out of toilet paper as well.”

“Hmm…

“I need more ideas.”

“You could just free bleed,” she says.

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s when you…”

“Actually, never mind.”

“You’re sure?”

“Totally sure.”

“Fine. Scratch that.. Let’s see…” Stacy makes a weird sucking sound with her mouth while she’s thinking.

Another customer comes by and starts sliding the shirts around me.

“What’s that annoying noise?” Stacy says.

“I’m under a rack of tank tops and someone’s looking through them.”

“Oops, sorry!” The faceless searcher says.

“It’s fine,” I say back nicely.

Stacy gasps. “I know!”

“What?”

“Why don’t you just cut up a tank top and shove it up your pussy?”

I laugh.

“Come on. That’s ghetto.”

“Yeah. But what else are you going to do?”

She’s got a point. What if this is the answer?

“But I don’t wanna!” I groan into the phone.

“I know it sucks, Banana. But it’s probably your only option.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

I crawl out from under the clothing rack and grab three spaghetti strap tank tops.

“Do you think three is enough?”

“Um…probably.”

“Okay. Good to go. Now it’s time to get the hell out of here.”

“You go girl!”

As I’m walking towards the front checkout, I spot some cotton balls out of the corner of my eye.

Hmm. These could be useful.

I snag them off the shelf.

“Hey, Stacy, do you think cotton balls…”

“WHAT!” someone screams on Stacy’s end.

A man across the aisle glares at me.

I mouth “sorry” and turn away.

“Quiet down,” I hiss. “Or I’m hanging up.”

“IS THIS ANA?!”

Shit. It’s Dezzy again.

“Dez, put Stacy back on the phone,” I whisper.

“FUCK YOU, ANA! YOU FUCKING BITCH!”

“Okay, I’m hanging up.”

“WOO! SPRING BREAK!” Dezzy screams so loud my speaker pops.

I hang up the phone and slip it into my pocket.

When I get to the front of the store, I join the back of the nearest line and take in my surroundings. All around me carts are overflowing. Off to my left, a plump woman is loading fifteen large cases of soda onto the conveyor belt, and the guy behind her has nothing but vanilla puddings and beef jerky.

He catches me staring and smiles at me. Holy hell! All his teeth are missing. I don’t even want to guess how he’s going to eat all that jerky.

“Next!” a young female voice calls from the front of the line.

I turn toward the register, but can’t seem to see the girl who said it. All I see is some sort of contraption where the register should be that looks like four broom sticks wrapped in layers of cellophane.

The dome-headed woman ahead of me huffs up to the register and hacks onto the cellophane.

Holy crap! It’s the Karen Clone from earlier!

I leave some distance between us and try not to breathe in whatever she’s hacking.

“Excuse me!” Karen Number 2 brays at the cellophane. “You forgot to ask me if I found everything I was looking for.”

The cellophane sucks in and releases with a sigh, and the disembodied voice from earlier returns. “Did you find everything you were—“

“No. I. Did. Not.” Spittle from Karen Number 2’s mouth hits the cellophane with each word. “And I need to speak to your manager. Immediately.”

The girl behind the plastic lets out another sigh. “Randy! Customer for you.”

A ruddy-faced man shuffles our way, but before he makes it to the register, Karen Number 2 marches towards to him.

“Next!” the girl behind the cellophane says, not caring if the woman loses her place in line.

I step forward to the register.

“I think some people are worse than the virus,” she says from behind the barrier.

I laugh. “No kidding.”

She sighs and the plastic wrap squeaks.

I clear my throat. “Um…What is this thing?”

“Modified spit guard. Courtesy of my dumb asshole manager.”

I laugh. “It looks pretty…um…”

“Shit?”

“Yeah, sort of,” I giggle.

“It would be better if he hadn’t triple wrapped the cellophane. Now I can’t see anything.”

“Why are most managers such bozos?” I scoff.

“Because the owners know if they were too smart they’d quit.”

I think it over. “Then why are some of the employees so smart?”

“Because it doesn’t matter if they quit.”

I laugh. It’s so true!

Then it occurs to me. “Why can’t you just wear masks and gloves?”

“Mr. Bozo thinks it will scare the customers.”

I frown at the plastic wrap.

“Wow. That’s really stupid.”

“Tell me about it,” she sighs.

My heart goes out to the girl trapped behind the cellophane. Her face is so blurred that I wouldn’t even know she was a girl if it weren’t for her voice.

“Nobody sees us and nobody cares,” she says hauntingly.

A chill runs down my spine.

I don’t know what to say, so I look down at my feet.

“Your total comes to $17.20.”

Crap, that’s expensive. I really wish they were carrying tampons.

I pull out my wallet and grab two tens.

When I look up I notice there’s a card reader, but no way to get her the cash.

“Um…all I have is cash.”

A tiny index finger appears above the cellophane, then points down. “Make it rain on this bitch.”

I fold the bills into fourths so they don’t scatter, then toss them over. “Keep the change.”

“Oh wow. Thanks,” She says. Her voice is different this time, less depressed. “Seriously, I need it.”

“No problem. Good luck.”

“Psh! Thanks,” she says with a laugh.

I laugh, too. “K, bye.”

Behind me, the ruddy-faced manager announces that the store is closing in ten minutes, and half the customers groan.

A woman in the cereal aisle screams, “This is bullshit! I need food for my kids!”

Behind me, a mob forms around the checkouts and people flood into the entrance.

Crap. Time to get out of here.

The woman from the personal care aisle who needed pads exits empty-handed in front of me and her face looks absolutely furious. When she gets outside, she turns around, pulls out the waistband of her sweatpants, reaches down between her legs, and rips out a used pad!

I gasp. Oh no!

In one swift motion, she slaps the bloody pad on the grocery store window, where it sticks like a suction cup animal.

“This is what you get for not having pads!” she screams like a banshee.

The crowd behind me groans with disgust.

What in the actual fuck?

A thick wave of nausea washes over me, and I feel like I might puke.

I search for another way out, but this is the only exit, so I step in front of the door and try not to look at the bloody pad stuck to the window. But for some reason I can’t help myself, and when I look up, the door slides open and the pad smears fresh blood across the glass before falling down onto the sidewalk.

Oh my God, WTF!

I throw up a little in my mouth, but manage to make it outside.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, the moment I step out I spot a trashy-looking mother trying to steal a mask off the face of a middle-aged man so her son can wear it.

“Come on,” she says, “he needs it more than you do!”

“Even if I wanted to give it to him, it’s a bad idea,” the poor guy says. “I could be carrying the virus!”

“Bullshit!” she screams. “Hand it over!”

She lurches for his mask and rips it loose.

Holy crap! What should I do?

A loud pop rips through the crowd, and the trashy woman falls to the ground and twitches around like she’s being electrocuted.

I turn and look down at the poor guy’s hand and see that he’s holding a taser.

“Oh my God, did you just tase her?” a woman from the crowd cries out.

“She was trying to steal my mask!” the poor guy says.

“You’re an animal!” a pregnant woman seethes as she clutches her belly protectively.

“How could you?” says someone in the crowd.

“The poor thing,” adds yet another.

The next thing I know, three white knight teenage boys are on top of the poor guy, beating him with their fists.

I cover my mouth with my hand, horrified by their savagery.

People leaving the store join in the fight, and within seconds it’s a full-on mob.

What the crap! It just keeps getting worse! I need to get out of here.

I dash for an clear spot of sidewalk near the curb, but right as I’m about to break free from the hoard, an errant body slams into me, sending me headfirst into the street. The pavement comes rushing towards my face, and at the last moment my hands shoot up just in time to stop me from landing face-first. I slide violently out into the street as my hands scrape along the asphalt, splashing puddle water into my face. The pain is immense and brings back vivid memories of the times I used to fall off my bike.

When I finally manage to look up I see that everything I just bought has been strewn out into the roaring traffic. The tank tops are stained brown and the cotton balls are soaked black.

A car honks and swerves, barely missing my head as my face is thrashed with water.

I gasp for breath as I crawl backwards towards the sidewalk.

Another car roars by, flattening everything I bought into a puddle.

Hot tears well in my eyes.

People behind me are asking each other what to do, but nobody makes a move to help me up.

Just then, a large SUV stops in front of me, and I catch sight of my reflection in the polished silver paint.

I gasp out in horror. The girl I see looking back at me looks like she just crept out of a lake.

The tinted rear passenger-side window rolls down a crack.

“Are you okay?” A dark voice says.

I squint at the tint, hoping to catch sight of the faceless man speaking to me, but all I can make out is a dark shock of hair. I push myself up from the puddle and step towards him.

“Stay back!” he says. His voice is so loud it echoes through the street, startling me.

I shuffle back two steps, look down and ring my hands.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t,” he says, then lets out a long, loud sigh. “I apologize for my tone, but I would prefer not to risk contact.”

“I totally understand. I—”

“Listen, are you okay?” he snaps, interrupting me.

A laugh escapes me. “Obviously not!”

I’m surprised by my own frankness, but something takes hold of me.

“I mean, its not like I just lost my job and won’t be able to pay my rent this month!”

Someone giggles behind me as the mysterious man in the backseat of the SUV remains silent.

“And…and… it’s not like I’m on my period right now and can’t seem to find a box of tampons or pads to save my life!”

A couple more people laugh.

I take a deep breath, about to cry as my voice grows louder.

“And it’s not like spaghetti strap tank tops were the only reasonable alternative!”

The laughter behind me stops.

“Damn!” someone shouts from the silenced crowd.

But I don’t care, and my voice only grows louder still.

“And it’s not like I had to fight through ten thousand assholes just to get that!”

I turn around and see several angry faces staring me down.

“And it’s not like you fucking animals shoved me into the street and the spaghetti strap tank tops I was supposed to shove up my pussy are now rotting at the bottom of a water-filled pothole!”

A pimple-faced teenage boy doubles over in laughter.

“Oh my God!” he says, wagging his finger at me. “She’s good.”

“Fucking animals, huh?!” a man in the crowd yells. “I’ll show you who’s a fucking animal!”

The man staggers forward, knocking into the people around him, and out of nowhere someone punches him in the face.

Oh no!

For a moment he’s dazed, but when he finally manages to regain his senses he throws a wild punch and the crowd resumes its frenzied fight.

I turn back to the window and cover my face, about to cry.

“Where do you live?” the disembodied voice in the SUV says. His tone is unexpectedly sympathetic.

What? Why is he asking me this? Why would he care where I live?

I gaze up through my tears at the window.

Should I tell him?

The thought seems crazy. He’s a complete stranger. I mean, I haven’t even seen his face.

I feel the crowd pushing at my back, and in one swift surge of motion, they shove me up against the window.

“Ow! You’re hurting me!” I cry. I try to turn around so I can say it to their faces, but the pressure is too much.

I turn and see two dazzling grey eyes staring back at me through the crack. The expression is fierce and intense, but for some reason I trust them.

“First Street,” I whimper. “I live near First Street.”

His eyes bore into mine as the crowd locks me in place.

Behind me, people begin to scream and shove each other.

The steel grey eyes look past me into the crowd and the next thing I know a folded hundred dollar bill appears next to my face.

I stare at the money, confused.

“It’s for your rent. To get by.”

What the?

I hesitate to take it.

“Take it or leave it.”

I reach forward to take it, and as I clasp the crisp paper, my finger brushes against his smooth, warm skin.

I look up into his eyes and this time they’re black. His brow furrows.

My breath hitches, and something tugs deep down in the pit of my stomach.

Behind me, a shrill woman shouts, “You got any toilet paper in there?”

The crowd moves forward, pressing me harder from behind and forcing my arm through the window.

“Son of a bitch!” the musical voice hisses from inside the cabin.

The crowd keeps pressing, and I scream out in pain.

Another voice from behind me calls out, “Hey rich boy! You gonna come bail us out!?”

The laughter is insane.

Hot breath brushes the back of my neck, giving me flashbacks of Karen standing behind me.

I look into his fierce eyes and for a moment I read an expression that looks like pity or fear, but I’m not sure which.

A gunshot rings out, and the glass on the rear driver’s side explodes into the cabin.

I scream in terror.

“Fuck!” the man says.

I can see people on the other side of the cabin leaning into the SUV.

“Ohh! It’s nice in here!” a haggard woman says, peering inside.

“Get back, you!” the man shouts.

I wish I could help him, but I’m stuck.

He leans forward and screams at the driver.

“Damnit, Calloway! They’re breathing into the cabin!”

“You hear that?” someone behind me says. “Richie Rich doesn’t want us breathing his fancy-pants air!”

“All right then,” an older man with an ugly voice screams. “Let’s give it to him! Charge!”

The crowd rushes forward, smashing me against the window.

I try to escape, but I’m locked in place.

All around me, ugly voices are screaming ugly things in ugly ways.

I suddenly feel like my spine is being crushed from behind.

“Help!” I yelp. “Somebody help me!”

“Fuck it, it’s too late now,” he says, his beautiful voice breaking through the garbled roar of the crowd.

The tinted window zips down and a pair of large hands cup my waist.

“What are you doing?” I say, startled by his strength.

“Watch your head,” he whispers against my ear, dizzying my senses.

The world around me spins, and for a moment everything is a blur. The next thing I know, I’m laying on my back looking up at the ceiling. All around me voices are growing in number, and I instinctively curl into the fetal position, nuzzling my face into his chest and inhaling his clean scent as his strong protective arms pull me closer to him.

Despite all the commotion around me, for the first time in forever, I feel safe.

The vehicle begins to rock back and forth from the thrashings of the human horde.

“Damnit, Calloway. They’re trying to tip us!”

“Can I run them over, sir?”

“I believe that would be unwise,” the man replies with a hint of humor.

The driver rubs his hand back and forth over his buzz cut. “Right, sorry.”

A loud noise startles me, and my hands shoot up to protect my face, smearing mud across the front of his suit.

Oh no!

I look up to apologize, and for the first time I see his face.

Oh my freaking God!

Chapter Two

Dark Knight

His face is perfect.

The symmetry is flawless. The bone structure is divine. His cheek bones are so strong and pronounced, it wouldn’t surprise me if he once was, or still is, a runway model. A thick shock of hair hangs over his right eye in a way that’s pleasantly distracting. If I were to guess his age I’d say he couldn’t be any older than 25, although his expression and mannerisms are more like those of a man twice his age.

His grey eyes narrow at me, and my heart leaps in response.

I try to look away, but my eyes are locked on his.

His pupils dilate, eclipsing the grey, and all at once I feel lightheaded.

Holy crap. What’s happening to me? I feel like I might faint.

His face softens, his eyes blinking gently, and I can’t help but notice his lashes are long for a man’s.

I should really look away, but for some reason I can’t. It’s as though I’m tethered to his gaze by some mysterious force.

In one smooth motion he turns towards the driver.

“Step on it. But don’t hurt them.”

The vehicle lurches forward, and outside the window, the crowd rushes by in a blur.

For the first time I notice beautiful classical music playing from the car’s speakers, a refreshing contrast to the the howling wind and chaotic street noise.

“Mahler,” I whisper.

It comes out unintentionally, and I’m suddenly overcome with embarrassment.

He turns back to me and eyes me with a look of surprise. “You know the composer?”

My heart skips a beat as I stare into his eyes. I want to say yes, but all I can do is nod.

He scowls and turns to the driver. “Turn off the music. It’s mixing with the street noise and giving me a headache.”

The driver nods. “Yes, sir.”

What the? Why why would he do that? Is he mad at me or something?

The music stops, and all that’s left is the howling wind as the world flies by outside the window.

He lifts me up off his lap and places me in a nearby seat. “Can you buckle yourself in?”

My mouth opens to respond, but he’s already reaching across my lap. “Very well,” he says, taking control as he begins to buckle me in. His arms feel good pressed against me, warm and reassuring, and I like the smell of his hair, but something about the aggressiveness of his gesture puts me off.

“I can do it,” I say, but he ignores me.

I bite my lip, unsure of what to do, and look down at his hands. The first thing I notice are his platinum cuff links. The design is simple, but the pieces look intricately crafted and expensive. My eyes wander to his long, tapered fingers as he buckles me in and smoothes the belt up over my chest, careful to remain decent.

Once finished, he sits back in his seat, and I’m finally able to take in the rest of him.

His body is long, lean, and muscular, and his proportions are refined. Besides the mess I’ve made of his suit, everything about his attire is crisp and clean. He’s wearing a well-fitted dark navy suit and slacks, a starched white undershirt, and an intricately patterned silver tie. The outfit looks expensive and custom tailored.

I look down at the used shirt I picked up the other day at the thrift store for a dollar fifty-five, and notice that mud is dripping down through my legs onto the soft leather car seat. I fidget nervously at the sight, and the puddle under me makes a squishy sound.

His eyes dart in my direction.

I lean back a little, revealing the puddle. “Sorry, I’m all wet.”

He purses his lips. “Don’t tell me that’s piss.”

What!? My face flushes with embarrassment. “No! It’s not, it’s just… I’m so sorry,” I mutter, trying to contain the drips.

He sighs and leans forward, flipping open the center console.

I flinch.

He stops and looks at me. “Calm down.”

I nod and exhale, trying to relax.

He pushes a black button and a crystal champagne set raises up from inside the console.

Scowling, he grabs a black silk champagne towel, unfurls it with a flourish, and hands it to me.

“Here.”

When I grab it, his fingers graze mine, and something electric passes between us.

Whoa.

That was crazy. Did he feel it, too?

He leans back in his seat and clears his throat, clearly affected.

He did!

A smile tugs at my lips.

He narrows his eyes at me. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” I say, flattening my expression as I dab up my mess. “Ahem…so, where are we going?”

“To your apartment.”

What? A pang of fear courses through me. “How do you know where I live?”

He gives me a strange look. “You told me back in the street. You don’t remember?”

I think back, replaying the awful sequence of events.

“Oh yeah.” I say, shaking my head. “How could I have forgotten? I must have hit my head.”

“Your head is fine. I saw everything.”

He saw the everything?

You’ve got to be kidding me. Face in the mud and ass in the air is not my idea of a great first impression. I can only imagine what he must think of me.

I lower my head in shame, and my hair falls down around my face. When I peek back up through the strands, I see that he’s turned away from me, staring out the window. He looks poised, legs finely crossed, fingers clasped—cool, aloof.

For a moment I wonder if I’m dreaming. There’s no way this could be real. He looks like a movie star or a model in a fashion magazine. What am I doing here with him?

He turns to look at me, and I quickly look away.

Crap. Don’t look again.

But I do, and this time he’s looking at me like he’s in pain.

I look away again.

I should really stop staring at him. This is something Stacy would do. Not me. What’s wrong with me?

A moment later, I can’t help myself and I look up yet again.

Shit. He’s still staring at me.

Okay. At least I’m not the only one staring.

His eyes crinkle in the corners, like he’s laughing at me, his fine mouth twisting into a ghost of a smile.

I look away again.

Crap. He thinks I’m an idiot. What should I do? Should I say something? This is so awkward.

When I peek at him again, I notice he’s clenching his slacks up near his knee. He looks angry. What if he blames me for what happened with the crowd? Maybe I should apologize?

“I’m sorry about what happened,” I say. “I didn’t know—“

He holds up his hand, silencing me.

I turn back and catch my reflection in the window.

Limp, soggy hair.

Mud-flecked face…

Could I look more pathetic?

Hot tears begin to form behind my eyes.

He makes a sudden movement, drawing my attention, and I notice a thin line of blood trailing down along his wrist.

I gasp. “You’re bleeding.”

He stops, turns his hand over. “Shit.”

I lean forward. “Here, let me—“

He pulls away. “I’ve got it.”

I look around for something to stop the bleeding.

He holds up the bottom of his suit coat and sighs through his nose, his mouth twisted with frustration.

I unbuckle my seatbelt.

“What are you doing?”

“Here,” I say, unbuttoning my baby blue cardigan.

“No,” he says, eyes closed, shaking his head. A small smile plays on his lips.

I stop. His smile does something to me I can’t explain, and I have the sudden inexplicable urge to kiss the corner of his mouth. What!? Where did that thought come from?

He smirks at me, like he knows what I’m thinking.

“You really need to calm down,” he says. “Get back in your seat and buckle up.”

I do as he says.

“It must have been from the window,” he says, referring to his bloody wrist. His voice is flat. “I was trying to minimize contact until you showed up.”

Crap. For a moment I almost forgot about the Coronavirus.

Guilt grips me.

What if he has a precondition?

What if he has a family?

“I’m so sorry.”

“You should be.” His expression is serious. “You summoned them to me.”

What?!

“I did not!”

“Did you declare yourself their leader, or were you elected?” he says, his lips suddenly curled with amusement.

I shake my head, confused. “I had absolutely nothing at all to do with them!”

He smiles. “Then why were they all so glad to see you?”

Ah, I get it. He must be joking.

I smile inwardly and decide to play along. “The truth is they were charmed by your carriage.”

His face brightens at my recognition, and he lets out a long sigh. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean what I just said.” He strokes the bottom of his lip with his index finger. “It’s obviously not your fault. It’s the fault of those in charge who allowed the panic to spread.”

I look down at my hands, unsure of what to say.

“Besides,” he says. His voice is suddenly wry with mock-humor. “There are so many ways to die. Coronavirus is just one of them. Something’s bound to get you sooner or later.”

I peek up at him through my lashes. Why does he look sad?

I want to tell him it will be alright, but the thought sounds stupid in my head.

He sighs and shrugs off his jacket to use for his hand.

I sit up.

“Y-y-you can use my sweater,” I say, stuttering for some reason as I gape wide-eyed at the jacket that I’m positive is worth more than my entire wardrobe combined.

“It’s quite alright,” he says, ignoring me.

“No,” I say, gaining his attention. “That jacket’s too thick.”

He stops and examines the jacket, turning it over in his hands.

“Seriously, it’s no big deal,” I say. “It’s the least I could do.”

“It won’t be needed,” he says, tossing the jacket into a heap on the floor.

I shake my head, confused. “Then what will you use?”

His eyes lock on mine as he loosens his patterned silk tie.

Holy hell. He’s getting undressed!

He tosses the tie onto the floor and begins unbuttoning his dress shirt.

My breath hitches as I struggle to avert my gaze.

He shrugs off the shirt, and I barely contain a gasp as his chiseled abs flex under the soft interior dome lighting. The entire time, his eyes never leave mine.

Something tugs at the base of my stomach as I shift in my seat.

He bites down on the dress shirt fabric and tears it into a long thin strip. How does he make it look so easy?

“I can help,” I say, leaning towards him, entranced.

“I’ll manage just fine,” he says through gritted teeth as he finishes two more strips.

He takes three strips and wraps them around his wrist. When he’s finished he holds up his wrist, examining his handiwork. “What do you think?”

I’m so overwhelmed all I can do is nod.

“Good enough,” he says like he’s glad to be done with it.

I spot the tie at his feet and a thought occurs to me.

“You could have just used your tie.”

“Too late,” he says without hesitation.

He reaches down, grabs the tie, then lays it next to him on the seat.

I look away. For some reason I can’t stop smiling. What’s going on with me?

He signals the driver. “I’ll need a new dress shirt before my speech.”

The driver nods. “Ten four.”

He settles back into his seat and begins fingering the shirt-strip bandage.

I clear my throat. “What kind of speech are you giving?”

His brow furrows. “You don’t have to talk like that.”

My brow pinches. “Like what?”

“Like this is an interview.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re up-ending your sentences in an effort to please me.”

I look away, unsure of how to respond.

“I’m sorry. I’m under a lot of pressure right now.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” he says, his tone serious.

“Okay.”

His brow arches, assessing me. “I’m Elon, by the way. Elon Carlisle.”

Elon Carlisle.

I roll it around in my mind, savoring the sound of it. The name suits him surprisingly well.

“What’s your name?” he says.

“Nana.”

Crap! What’s wrong with me!? …Nana?!

“Nana?” His brow knits in confusion. “As in, my nana’s just died from Coronavirus?”

“N-no. It’s Ana. Just Ana.”

“Ana?”

I nod. “Ana.”

He leans back, hands behind his head, and repeats my name. “Ana.”

I love the way my name plays on his lips.

His eyes dart back down at me. “You’re sure?” His face lights up with humor, and somehow it’s even more beautiful than before.

I blush and nod into my chest.

“So…Ana. What do you think of all this?”

My eyes once again take in the luxurious surroundings. “The car?”

He makes a face. “No…the virus.”

Duh. What’s wrong with you, Ana? Get it together.

I search for the right word, but all that comes to mind is, “It’s terrible.”

“Indeed,” he says, biting the back of his knuckle.

An awkward moment passes between us, and the tension gets the better of me. “I noticed none of the employees at Wholesome Foods were wearing masks.”

“Yes, I’ve read all about that. Most businesses seem to think it will scare the customers.”

“That’s so stupid,” I say, a little too loud.

He looks up at me and tilts his head.

I shake my head with frustration. “I mean, if we’re going to flatten the curve, we can’t be doing stupid stuff like that. It’s not up to businesses to choose who lives and dies.”

He stops biting his knuckle and stares at me thoughtfully. Why is he looking at me like that?

“I was just on my way to give a speech along the same lines,” he says calmly.

“Oh,” I say. “What for?”

“It’s for a charity banquet. Very tedious.”

“So, what are you? Some kind of politician or something?“

“I’m a CEO. I own fifteen companies on three separate continents, and I employ over five million people.”

Holy crap.

“Wow, very important,” I say, trying to sound unimpressed.

“Indeed.”

Cocky much?

The air in the car suddenly seems too heavy, so I try to lighten the mood. “Well at least the workers of the world will finally get a vacation.”

He eyes me tactfully.

“If you consider the most devastating economic collapse since World War II a vacation, then yes, they will most certainly get their vacation.” So much for lightening the mood. I look down at my lap as he continues. “I believe there is dignity and honor in work, regardless of what one contributes. This pandemic is nothing short of a disaster for everyone involved, including the workers of the world.”

I snort. “Easy for you to say.”

He glares at me.

“Why is that?”

“Because you’re the one getting the lion’s share.”

He scoffs.

“What?” I say. “It’s the truth”

“Somewhat,” he says, leaning forward. “To be more exact, I control the lion’s share. Most of my value is tied up in my companies. If I didn't own at least fifty percent of each company I would cease to be the one in control.”

“So why not give it up?”

“Because without my control they would fail.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

His eyes bore into mine and I look away, a little frightened by his intensity.

“So, you’re doing it for charity?”

He laughs. “I wouldn’t say that exactly.”

“But that’s what you just said. You said the companies would fail without you. But still, you could sell them off anytime, so why don’t you? Sounds like charity to me.”

He thinks it over. “Because it’s not rational to allow that many people to suffer when I have the power to stop it from happening.”

I can’t help but smile.

“What? What is it?”

“Nothing.”

He leans forward. “Tell me.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t think you’re being rational.”

“Then what am I being?”

“Emotional.”

He shakes his head.

“I never make decisions based on emotion. I prefer to be able to anticipate every outcome.”

“As if that’s even possible.”

“Maybe not,” he says. “Still, I believe caution and prevention are the foundations of rational judgement.”

“Who did you steal that line from? Dale Carnegie?”

His eyes soften with humor. “You know more than you let on.”

I fold my arms. “Yeah, and you care more than you let on.”

He shakes his head and looks down. “I gave up caring a long time ago.”

I stop and stare at him. His response is more personal than I expected.

“What about you?” he says.

“Me?”

“Yes. Tell me about yourself.”

Crap. What the heck am I supposed to say?

“Um…I don’t know. Let me think.”

“Think away.”

“Well, for starters, I lost my job today.” Heat spreads across my face as I recall my outburst in front of the crowd. “But I guess I already told you that earlier.”

I search his face for signs that he’s about to mock me for the embarrassing scene I made, but I find none. Only mild curiosity lingers in his eyes.

“Where did you work?” he says cooly.

“Karen’s Krafts, down on Main Street.”

“I think I’ve seen it.”

“They put me on indefinite leave.” I make air quotes around ‘indefinite leave’.

He nods his head. “They must be struggling.”

“They are.”

“So, what did you do there?”

Why does he want to know all this? There’s no way it’s boring him less than it’s boring me.

“Hmm…” I say, trying to think of something interesting. “I mostly just stood behind the front desk waiting for customers to pay.” I shrug. “Sometimes I’d help stock the shelves.”

Ugh. It sounds so lame now that I’ve said it out loud.

“That’s it?” He says, narrowing his eyes at me.

“Um… sort of. I mean, I was a cashier.” I sift through my memory for something else to say. “But sometimes I would clean the toilets, too.”

His lips curl into an amused smile. “That sounds very…interesting.”

Crap. He definitely thinks I’m an idiot. Why did I say that? I blush and lower my head. “It was a job, I guess.”

“Well, from what you just told me I wouldn’t be too upset about losing it.”

My face flushes with anger. “It may not sound like much to you, but it was all I had.”

He gives me a surprised look. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant I think you can do better.” He pauses to rub his index finger across his lower lip. “I’m sorry. I know how hard it is out there right now.”

“How do you know?”

“That it’s hard?”

“That I can do better.”

He shrugs. “It was just a guess.”

“Based on what?”

“What I’ve seen so far.”

“I thought this wasn’t an interview.”

“It’s not.” His voice is hard.

I cross my legs and fold my arms over my chest. “Whatever.”

I don’t know why I’m acting like this, but something about this man has gotten under my skin.

“We’ll be nearing your place soon, Ana,” he says. There’s an edge to his voice again. “What’s the building?”

“Broadway Building, Elon,” I say, echoing his tone. “But you can drop me off here if you’re eager to get rid of me.”

His brow turns into a hard V and I’m tempted to poke my tongue out at him. What’s gotten into me?

The landscape around us darkens. “This is a bad part of town,” he says flatly.

I nod against the window. “I always know I’m getting close to home because I begin to feel anxious.”

“I know the owner-slash-landlord,” he says. “Or, I suppose the more proper term would be slum lord.”

I laugh despite myself.

“Totally.”

“Totally?”

I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”

His face lights up a little as his eyes narrow in thought. “For some reason all I can remember of him was his ass crack.”

I burst out laughing so hard I almost pee my pants.

He smiles at me.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” I choke out. “My roommate and I christened him Lord Buttcrack once we learned he was a piece of shit.”

He laughs out loud for the first time, and the melodious sound fills my chest.

The driver looks back at us and smiles.

When our laughter finally dies down, I look up and catch him staring at me with a far off look.

I look myself over and check my face in the glass. “What’s the matter? Is there something on my face?”

“No, it’s just…” he says, considering whether or not to continue.

“What?” I say, anxious for his answer.

“You remind me so much of someone I once knew.”

Oh really?

“Who?”

He turns away from me, suddenly serious.

“Never mind. Forget I said it.”

The mood in the car darkens.

“Will you be fine if I drop you off here?” he says. The edge in his voice has returned.

I look around. I usually avoid walking in this part of town if I can. I glance back at Elon but he’s still turned away, as if I’m already gone.

“Here’s fine.”

He commands the driver to stop.

“You’re sure?” the driver says, looking back at us.

Elon nods, his face twisted in what I can only assume is disgust.

I open the door and right as I’m about to step out, a beer bottle crashes against the nearby pavement.

What the?!

I slink back into the car as a middle-aged drunk woman takes a swing at a scruffy-looking old man.

“You motherfucker!” The woman roars. “How you gonna pay the rent! How we gonna eat!”

Elon reaches across me and slams the door shut.

“Drive!”

The SUV lurches forward.

I peer over and see him pinching his brow with his fingers. “That was a close one,” I say, forcing a lightness into my tone.

“Too close,” he whispers, not looking up.

A distance seems to have formed between us that I don’t understand.

I sift through my mind for something to say.

“I’m really sorry for everything. The mob, your clothes…exposing you to the virus. It’s all my fault.”

“As I said before, it’s not your fault. People are stupid, dangerous, panicky animals.”

I stare at him, taken back by his harsh judgement.

The vehicle comes to a stop in front of my apartment and I notice a homeless man is trying to defecate on the sidewalk.

“Gross,” I whisper, turning away.

“How long have you lived here?” He says, his face contorted in disgust.

Something comes over me, a medley of shame and anger, and all at once I have the overwhelming urge to leave the vehicle.

I try to open the door, but it’s locked.

He shakes his head at the driver, and grabs my elbow to stop me. His hand feels good against my skin, but my emotions take hold and I shrug it off.

He sighs and leans back in his seat. “You’re sure you want to go?”

What’s he getting at? A minute ago he was asking me to leave.

“I’m sure. Now can you please unlock this door?”

Once again, he shakes his head at the driver.

What’s he doing?

He pulls out a platinum business card holder, flips it open, removes a card, then flips it back shut. He offers the card to me. “In case you need me for anything.”

I shake my head. “You’ve already helped more than enough. Thank you for the ride and the money… I really mean it, thank you.”

He narrows his eyes.

The driver opens my door, taking me by surprise. “Ma’am.”

I look up and thank him, then clamber out of the car with as much grace as I can scrap together.

“Oh! I almost forgot my p—“

I spin around and see my purse dangling from Elon’s outstretched hand.

“Thanks,” I say, shifting the strap onto my shoulder.

“You’re welcome.”

Something like a grin tugs at the corner of his mouth.

What’s that all about?

Before I can say anything, the driver gently shuts the door. “Would you like me to escort you to your door?” His face is serious, but genial.

“No. But thank you, um… I seem to have forgotten your name.”

���Calloway, ma’am.”

“Oh yes. Now I remember. Thank you, Calloway.”

“No problem-o.”

I turn on my heel and hop over the pile of excrement the homeless man left on the sidewalk.

“Watch your step!” Calloway says, laughing a little. “I’d kick it out of your way, but it’s still fresh.”

“I’m fine,” I say as I hop up the steps to the front door of my building, totally grossed out.

Good God. How humiliating.

As I’m about to put my key in the slot, I hear Elon’s voice behind me.

“Ana!” I turn around and see his beautiful face framed in the window. “Be safe,” he says.

“You too.” I take a breath. “…Elon.”

The moment lingers as we stare into each other’s eyes, and I can swear something passes between us again. I can’t explain why, but I feel an inexplicable urge to run back to the car. Does he feel it, too?

He turns his head forward as the tint seals shut.

And then, just like that, the car pulls away.

A Final Note from the Author

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story! I hope you’ve enjoyed it so far! If you would like to read the rest of Part 1 through to Chapter 14, the story is currently available on Amazon under the title ‘Fifty Shades of Corona’ by N.O. Shame. However, if you are willing to wait, I’ll be posting a new chapter every week!

Much Love,

N.O. Shame

[1001galaxies]

Commentary on Netflix’s Cursed: Episode 2

Edited for language, because I have a few younger/more sensitive readers.

THE MONK SPEAKS. HOT DIGGITY DANG.

Well, DAYUM again. The monk meeting Squirrel is delicious. The LOOK in Daniel's eyes. The staging and lighting. A+

“Born in the dawn.” “To pass in the twilight.” I burst out laughing so hard. The cheesiness. But also. When it's DANIEL SHARMAN SAYING THE FIRST LINE, I mean. I M E A N.

Just watch, that’ll be the new 'may we meet again'.

Squirrel is a discount version of Blue from King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, but he's cute, so that makes up for a lot. And he does have some decent lines so far. “Do you hate them because they're so beautiful and you're so ugly.” “Even your horse is ugly.” “And I love horses.”

But, hang on, his line: “You're so ugly.” *looks at Daniel Sharman* *looks at Squirrel* *looks at Daniel* *blinks* Ah, kids.

Dang, they really do give Nimue every single flippin YA teen girl trope in the world, from both fanfic and traditional fic. Wow. That's impressive, even by my standards.

Joss: “Get up you murdering pig...tie him up...I think we've caught the big killer.” Me: You haven't caught anything, and if you think you have the upper hand with the MONK? Oh honey, you poor deluded fool.

Joss: “Ever been dragged by a horse with a hot coal up his bum?” Monk: “Not that I can recall.” Me: Dang, HIS VOICE. Me: Secondly, there are better ways to motivate horses than that, excuse you.

Monk: “I've got no interest in the boy. He's bait.” Joss: “Bait for what.” Me: Oh yeah, here we go, awriiiiiight. Monk: “For YOU.” *kicks Joss*

Who cares that Daniel is the bad guy, he's the only interesting one. Hot DANG, that roll over the horse. HE'S FIGHTING WITH HIS HANDS BOUND. Gives a new meaning to 'hands tied' Also dang. And WHAT DID I SAY, JOSS. You got owned.

Monk: *kills five or six people with //his hands bound//* Me: Now that's what I'm talkin’ about. Me: Wait, he just killed innocent people. Me: Eh, he’s still the best character so far.

How does Daniel manage to sound sexy saying “go.”

Every SINGLE time we come back to Nimue: Me: okay, booooooring.

Obviously, they’re going with the traditional representation of Bors as a brash lout. Eh. Why.

Can I have Bors played by Tom Hopper, please. He was a good Percival, but I'd like to see him play a surprisingly FUNNY and GENTLE and SMART Bors. Twist the traditional representation.

Ah yes. Cursed: LOOK AT US, WE'RE SO ENLIGHTENED AND SUBVERSIVE AND DIFFERENT that we're going to have the guy save the girl the same way 90% of all fantasy saves occur. Much impressed.

I mean, TELL her, Arthur, yes please. She didn't think, that's the problem. She just reacted with the sword. I get she’s a teen, but come ON, why must every single teenager ever—male or female—react with impulsive emotion. Not every single teen in the world always reacts with emotion first.

Well, this heroine rant is like every other YA fantasy heroine guilt-trip rant I’ve ever seen. I get being sad and emotional and being guilt-stricken because of how events have fallen out, but really on the wording? Really.

Arthur: “And I'm not a cutthroat.” And his head tilt. That's cute. Arthur is genuinely likeable so far, which is /good/. Also nice to see the guy taking care of the girl solicitously for once instead of the other way around. I do appreciate that.

And here we have the OH SO ORIGINAL trope where the heroine was bullied as a child and 'oh you made the village boys pay romantic attention to you with your magic' backstory. REALLY. REALLY NOW. I'm absolutely positive I've got YA fantasy heroine bingo at least twice over by now.

Nimue’s mum: “When you were five years old, you faced a dark god alone in the ironwood and survived.” Bingo again.

Let's play a game called: how many times can this show throw out a Game of Thrones reference/imitation?

IRONWOOD. REALLY? REALLY. Here's the thing. a) Game of Thrones did this already and called it the Godswood, and if you think people aren't going to see what you did there, you 100% have another think coming. and b) THE LAST TIME I CHECKED TRADITIONAL FAE LORE, iron KILLED and/or BURNED fae. But THAT is what you unironically* called your SACRED WOOD THAT PROTECTS YOU???? *Only being 2 episodes in, maybe I'll find out later that it was/is an ironic name, but it suuuuuuure doesn't seem like it so far.

Nimue’s mum: “You are not some fragile maid, you are a warrior..." Me: She's going to say 'and you are strong'. Nimue's mum: "And you are strong." Me: See, this isn't even fun. There's no challenge to this. Also, YA fantasy trope bingo again.

Arthur: "It's a rare blade, I'm not sure I've seen its like." AT LEAST THAT is a decent line. Normally, they say “I've never seen its like” with this awed tone, but he's just factually observing. Cool, cool.

ARTHUR WITH THE SWORD. I'm going to be an Arthurian geek for just a minute and revel in this. I know there's more to this story. Much of it is dead boring. But I'm just going to enjoy this minute because //Arthur with the sword//.

I really did not expect to like this Arthur. He's nothing extraordinary yet, but he's fun. Without being a copycat of BBC's Merlin or King Arthur: Legend of the Sword. He's just a young knight (possibly a prince somewhere along the line??) who is genuinely caring, not super arrogant, and just a DECENT AND FUN GUY. So far.

Arthur: “I've seen a lot of lives wasted fulfilling the dreams of the dead.” YES? FINALLY? SOMEONE SAID IT? I'm here for this. Call out that fantasy trope that is all well and good in some doses but is basically THE FOUNDATION OF EVERY SINGLE YA FANTASY ARC EVER, and it's so annoying. Give us some VARIETY now and then.

Nimue to Arthur: “Spoken like a true mercenary.” No, spoken like the only sensible person in the show so far, Nimue, you twit.

AW YEAH. YOU TELL HER, ARTHUR. She's shrugging off everything you say AFTER ASKING FOR YOUR HELP. Geeeeez. It’s so annoying when people do that.

Arthur: “Get an hour of sleep.” Implied: Everything looks better after sleep + you’ll need your strength. Me, who hates sleep: I feel so attacked right now. ...But he’s right.

Merlin is TOTALLY fantasy Haymitch.

Veiled Lady: “You told us the sword of the first kings was destroyed. You lied.” Okay, so MAYBE Merlin's getting mildly interesting...but are they going to do a good job with it? DOUBTFUL.

Veiled Lady: "This affects all of us, not just you. The fae are on the verge of extinction." Um, THEN WHY EXACTLY ARE YOU DOING NOTHING ABOUT IT? Is this another ‘we can’t bend the rules of heaven for mere earthlings’??

Veiled Lady: “If the church acquires the sword of power, then they will decide who wears the crown. Have you forgotten the words?” Merlin: “Forgotten them? I WROTE THEM.” Me: Okay, that's a good delivery. Merlin: “Whosoever wields the sword of power shall be the one true king.” Me: And a nice mocking accent on that, Oooh yeah, I like. Merlin: “But I'm wiser now. There IS no one true king.” Me: Huh. Now see, that's slightly interesting. Give me more of that.

Pretty sure they told Gustaf to model his Merlin on Starz Camelot's Merlin, “but make him fun and drunken.” He's got that whole Fiennes vibe going on, but also definitely fantasy Haymitch. (Someone else on tumblr said Jack Sparrow, and I could see that one too, thought not as much yet. Where I am, Merlin doesn’t seem super keen on adventuring for the sake of adventuring. He has the bitter past and cynicism of Haymitch right now. Maybe he’ll get more Jack Sparrow-y as this goes on.)

MERLIN HAS NO MAGIC BECAUSE HE GAVE IT TO THE SWORD, okay, that right there is a GOOD element, and chock full of potential. Especially his bitterness. And his insistence that he won't touch the sword again. Are they going to do a good job of using it? Dollars to donuts, NO. Ugh.

Veiled Lady: “I sense fear around the sword. But also great power.” And here we have our Galadriel imitator. Dang, I need TWO more bingo cards.

Veiled Lady: “The sword is finding its way to you, Merlin, but which end of the sword, the point or the pommel, is another question.” Me: *snorts* Cute.

Merlin: "The sword was forged in the fae fires, and to the fae fires it shall return. I shall melt it back to its origins."

Let's play another game called: how many times can this show imitate LOTR?

Veiled Lady: "You are aware the fae forges burned out a thousand years ago?" Yeah, cause Frodo and Sam destroyed Mount Doom, guys, go read your history.

Veiled Lady: “Oh dear.” Veiled Lady: “Tell me you're not planning to steal from him. Without your magic.” Merlin: “I still have my wits and my charm.” Veiled Lady: “I fear you overestimate both.” Ahem, the lady has a point.

CONCLUDING THOUGHTS:

- Arthur is still interesting. That could change super quickly, but so far, I like him.

- The Monk is beautiful, and I'm so here for upcoming stuff I won't talk about, but also for his arc period and more interactions with Squirrel.

- Squirrel is cute, but nothing above the average so far. Still, better than almost anyone else on the show.

- Merlin has the potential to be intriguing, if only they use it.

- Obviously, I'm going to keep watching.

Footnote:

I saw spoilers today about the Monk’s arc, and I'm HERE FOR IT, so here, so beyond here for it, GIVE ME THAT RIGHT THE HECK NOW. IT'S THE ONLY REASON I HAVE ANY EXCITEMENT FOR THIS SHOW RIGHT NOW.

THE WEEPING MONK AS *SPOILER* I. CAN'T. FREAKING. WAIT.