#or he WAS in one anyways until The Pulling Up At The Hospital Incident Of 2021

[desideriumwriter]

Could you write something about Hufflepuff reader studying late in the library and she realizes she has to get back to her common room before curfew. As she’s walking back Fred finds her, walks her back to her common room while flirting and talking about random things. Just something sweet and cute. Thanks love 💗💗💗

this is suchhhhh an adorable idea!! a fun one to write too! tysm for the request!! <3

wc: 1.4k

f.w. masterlist | navi

The sun was still in the sky when you entered the library to study peacefully. Various classes had slapped you with an array of tests planned this week and you felt like a bundle of nerves.

So, you chose somewhere you knew there’d be no disturbances or noise to pull your attention from your books.

The sun had completely set now, the sky outside was black. You were probably one of the only people left in the library.

It was just you, several textbooks, notes sprawled across the desk you were sitting at, and the sound of the clock ticking.

You let out a heavy breath and flipped the page of your Potions textbook. Before beginning to read over the next section, you took a look at the clock on the wall.

9:47 PM.

You had less than fifteen minutes before curfew. Maybe you could finish this next page, maybe you could start heading back to your common room.

The walk back wasn’t terribly far, but you should probably start going now if you wanted to get there before the curfew bell rang.

Rubbing your eyes and gathering your things, you quietly began on your path back to your common room.

Turning the corner down one corridor, you ended up a bit behind a tall, ginger-haired, Gryffindor boy.

It didn’t take long for him to realize you were there, he looked behind him, looked back, then did a double take.

“Merlin, you scared me. I didn’t even notice you were behind me.” He halted.

“I know you.” You stopped and narrowed your eyes at the freckled boy.

“Me?” He pointed at himself, you nodded. “Is that a good thing?” He took a few tiny slow steps towards you.

“You're the one who set off all those fireworks off on the train home last year.” You stated, Fred winced.

Maybe it wasn’t a good thing. Most kids found that end of the year prank funny, until the express was stopped for nearly an hour.

“I’m one half of it.” Fred said, tilting his head to the side. “I’ve got a brother. We er…set them off together.” He explained when he noticed your puzzled staring.

He watched nervously as your face lit up in realization.

“The twins!” You pointed, “You both tried to put your names in the Goblet the other week!”

“Oh no, you heard about that too?” He let out a nervous laugh, hoping you wouldn't see the blush seeping across his cheeks.

Fred didn’t understand why he felt so flustered, he thought the incident was hilarious himself. But you were a stranger, a pretty stranger too.

“I witnessed it.” You tried to bite back any more laughter. “You had quite a mighty beard there.”

“Reckon it was better than Dumbledore's?” He brushed his fingers through his long hair.

“I’ll say you’ll be able to pull it off when you're a hundred years old.” You shrugged. “I’m assuming you’re Fred?” You guessed as you two began to walk side by side.

“I’m George.” He lied, no matter how many times he’s done it, he’s never got tired of pretending to be his twin just to mess with people. You nodded embarrassedly and looked at the ground, a twinge of guilt suddenly hit him.

“I’m kidding. I’m not George. I don’t know why I said that.” He stammered and shook his head, “You were right the first time. I am Fred.” You glanced back at him and gave him the sweetest smile. He felt like he could melt right into the floor.

“Well then, Fred, where are you coming back from?” You lifted your chin at him in a playful manner.

“Detention with Filch.” He sighed, you grimaced.

“Uck. Did they punish you because you tried to outsmart the age line?”

“Oh no, no. Being stuck in those stiff hospital beds felt like a punishment itself.” He scoffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyways, I got caught trying to steal ingredients from Madam Pomfreys cabinets.”

“Oh?” You let out a breathy chuckle.

And what about you? Where are you coming back from

“Just the library, I have a test in Potions tomorrow. I decided I should just try and cram in whatever knowledge I could.” You cringed at the way you began to ramble. While pushing open one of the kitchen doors it was impossible to miss Freds large frame moving in front of you to hold it open for you.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to the Gryffindor tower?” You said half-jokingly as you walked into the kitchen.

“I wanted to steal a pastry from here before I went there. Shouldn’t you be getting back to yours?” He poked.

“I am, I’ve been on my way back to the basement this entire time.” You crossed your arms playfully. His smile dropped and his brows knit together.

“Basement? Your dorm is in the basement?” Fred’s face scrunched up. You just let out a small mhm and nodded, pointing to the entrance hidden behind a stack of barrels at the end of the room.

He had to tilt his head a bit to the side to see the round door hiding behind the pile of wooden barrels.

“Seems a bit crummy to put a common room down there.” Fred said flatly, yet still looking displeased at the fact your dorms would be where the dungeons also are.

“I think it’s the coziest place in the entire castle.” You shrugged; Fred let out a small noise of disagreement.

“Eh, the Gryffindor tower is the coziest. We can put Hufflepuff as a not-very-close second, yeah?” He grinned at you.

“I say you’re wrong on that.” You hummed as you tried to bite back your smile, you failed.

“Yeah? You can come see for yourself! I’ll let you have a visit and see how wrong you are!” He teased, nudging at you with a playful sparkle in his eyes. You could feel your face heat up at how his voice sounded so much flirtier than a second ago. You just prayed he wouldn’t see it. To prevent him from seeing you in your blushing state, you swiftly stepped up to the barrels.

“Er, you should probably stand back a bit.” You pointed, Freds brows knit together in confusion as he looked at the ground and back up at you.

“It…sprays you if you get the code wrong, and there's already been a few times where I’ve messed up the pattern.” You explained, Fred only nodded and took a few steps back.

You tapped the barrels in the correct rhythm and stepped back once the door began to open slowly.

From the glimpse Fred got of the Hufflepuff common room, maybe you were right. The uncountable number of plants and warm glow of the room made it look like one of the most comforting places he’s ever seen.

“It was really nice talking to you.” You told Fred as you stepped inside. “Goodnight.”

"You said you had a test in potions tomorrow, right?" Fred pipped; you stopped the door from closing with your hand.

"Yeah, we have to make a certain one by memory."

“Perfect, I've got just the thing…” He said as he dug into one of his robe pockets. “If you're not sure you made yours correctly, try and sprinkle some of this in. It’ll help.” He pulled out an extremely small sack, filled with sparkly purple powder and dropped it into your hand.

“It won’t make my cauldron explode?” You teased, knowing of him and his twins' history of blowing up the school toilets.

“No, I wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.” Even with that little smile on his face, you could tell he was actually being truthful.

“Awesome, thanks.” You grinned again, looking down and beginning to move away from the door.

Fred called out your name one more time, blocking the door from closing with his foot.

“I’ll probably be back here tomorrow night, if you’d like to chat some more?” His voice had gotten so quiet, there was a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’d like that. I’d really like that.” There you went again, with that sickeningly sweet smile. “‘Night, Fred.”

“‘Night.” Fred left the kitchen with a stomach full of fluttering butterflies and a grin on his face. He didn’t even bother to steal any pastries on the way out, he was too busy being excited for tomorrow night.

tell me what you thought!

[slashersweethearts]

JUST realized i left out one little detail which makes this all funnier to me. which is that amber n melina were together the first time around for a grand total of six full months. n morgan and richie spent almost TWO YEARS together 😭

really luv pondering the duality of my oc ships bc both amber and richie pulled the cute but weird girl w little to no real connections outside of them who had literally never been w anybody else.

n yet amber wound up w the most obsessive bitch to walk woodsboro’s 2 streets and 1 cornfield who would need the jaws of life just to be kept away from her bc she will NOT leave her tf alone BUUUUT she is down bad enough to be willing to kill for her. even after getting broken up w and stabbed in the shoulder.

meanwhile richard is out here fighting for his LIFE just tryna get his bitch back bc it turns out his detached from others to a clinical level shawty (who didn’t even date him out of any romantic interest. she saw him as like a brother she just didn’t know how to turn him down w/o being and/or feeling mean abt it 💀) surprise surprise could also just detach herself from him w relative ease 😭 and he only cheated ONE TIME!!! (that she knows of 😭)

[sectumsempraaa]

Cheat Sheet

Pairing: Draco x fem/Slytherin reader

Summary: You and Draco have always been especially good friends to each other, and this time is no different. But when you step in to save him in potions class, you both start to realize that maybe, it is.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: None, mostly fluff, some cursing and kissing

Behold, my second fic! Let me know if y'all want a part 2 for this one or my first fic, And Now I Do. Thanks for being so sweet and supportive, y'all are the best :)

If you watch HOTD, you'll enjoy a quote I pulled from a recent monologue 🐉

“Sssshh, ssshh, it’s okay.” You say calmly to the first year Slytherin crying in your arms. “I get homesick, too. But soon you will make great friends here who will feel like family. I promise.” The young boy pulls back, eyes puffy and cheeks stained with tears, which bled onto your shirt, but you don’t mind. You’ve been an older sister all your life, anyways. 

Draco had been made a Prefect this year and advanced his position on the Slytherin Quidditch team. Tonight, their captain has them practicing until nearly midnight. A bit excessive to you, but the Championship tournament against Ravenclaw is coming up and they’re hungry for victory. 

Because he’s always been able to rely on you, and your generally brilliant standing in your year, he’s asked you to take over his Prefect responsibilities for the night. This really only means keeping an eye out for students after curfew and tending to any notable incidents. You like to poke fun at Draco sometimes, calling him “the Slytherin-sitter.” This job couldn’t be easier for you.

“Can you walk me back to my dorm?” he asks through gasping sobs. You feel for the kid, remembering back to when you first started at Hogwarts and were nearly shaking on the train ride over. As if that wasn’t enough, you got sorted into the world’s most hated house. But eventually, you found your group when you beat the infamous Harry Potter in a wand duel in second year in front of your Defense Against the Dark Arts class. You remember turning back to your house and seeing your four new favorite smirks: Draco, Pansy, Theo, and Blaise.

You wonder how Draco would have handled this boy’s breakdown. What is Draco like around kids? It’s hard for you to imagine Draco being sensitive to a first year’s emotional needs. Your only frame of reference is when you ended up in the hospital wing in third year when you and Pansy thought it would be fun to try a fire spell on the Whomping Willow. Needless to say, it backfired… badly. But you remember Draco’s bedside manner when he visited you in the infirmary. You remember him being impossibly gentle when helping you stand up, laughing to tears with you when you told him what happened, and sneaking you some of your favorite desserts from the Great Hall. Ultimately, you’ve always been there for each other.

After you drop the student off at his dorm, you scribble some notes on the incident to have on record and spend a few minutes reading on your favorite couch in the common room. Around 1AM the door opens and Draco steps through, absolutely covered in sweat, cheeks blotchy and hair soaking wet. You jump off the couch and meet him halfway through the room, grabbing his broomstick for him and leaning it up against a table. Despite still catching his breath, he manages to speak, placing a hand on your shoulder first. For balance or for affection, you couldn’t tell.

“Thank you so much for covering tonight. Anyone give you trouble?” He asks you with genuine concern.

“Let’s not worry about my completely uneventful night and instead get you out of this uniform.”

He smirks and you drop your head, immediately regretting your statement.

“Now now darling, I know you’re eager, but I’ve worked out well enough for tonight.” He replies to you with a cocky tone, winking at you just before you scoff and hit his shoulder. You turn to walk back to your dorm, but he grabs your wrist and pulls you back towards him. His demeanor shifts, eyes like ice looking down to meet yours.

“Really, thank you. I have a lot on my plate right now and you’re the only one in our band of idiots I can rely on.” He says, and you swear you can see a soft smile forming while he talks. His delicate grip on your arm and the sincereness in his voice are all you can focus on. You notice how the chill of his ring against your skin contrasts with the heat radiating off him. There it is again, that compassionate side peeking out from behind his hardened exterior; temporarily abandoning the Slytherin king for Prince Charming. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You’re fully aware you’re batting your eyelashes up at him, but you can’t help it. You feel special seeing this part of him he normally hides from others.

“Consider yourself the least idiotic of us.” He says, and you feel his thumb graze over your wrist. You think to yourself, we’ve never stood this close before. The two of you laugh and drink in this moment for another few seconds. When you both turn towards the dorms, you relay the incident with the crying boy and just like that, the classic Malfoy everyone knows shifts back, his exhaustion making it hard to keep up the act.

“Better you than me. Can’t stand it when they cry. Insolent pups.” He scowls. You roll your eyes and sigh as you lean on the threshold of your dorm room.

“Such a mother hen.” Your voice drips with sarcasm. You know he likes it when you challenge him. Not many people would. 

“You know, now that I think about it, I can recall you crying on multiple occasions in first year, not excluding the time you lost that fight against-” He cuts you off, swiftly closing the door to his room. But that doesn’t suppress the sound of the laugh he lets out on the other side.

You smile, shaking your head and mumbling to yourself.

“Insolent pup.”

—

The next day, you’re in Potions class and it is glaringly apparent from the moment you sit down that Snape is in a terrible mood. Typical. You’re used to this but it doesn’t make life any easier. An angry Snape is usually accompanied by some random and unnecessary punishment.

He remains silent for a minute while staring down the class, scanning the room with eyes like daggers. Draco stumbles in the door, noticeably disoriented. You practically feel the relief emanating from him when he sees the empty seat next to you. He drops into the seat like dead weight, rubbing his bloodshot eyes that are wrapped in gray circles.

“Hey, you okay?” You whisper to him, not daring to stand out amongst the quiet class. When he doesn’t respond, or even so much as look at you, you reach to place a hand on his back.

“Draco.” He lazily turns his head towards you, finally getting his attention.

“What can I do?” You ask. Your heart sinks a little looking at your friend who is physically drained beyond repair. Moving your hand in circles on his back, you reach over to take his robe off for him, laying it on top of yours on the bench in between you. He doesn’t utter a word but you know he barely slept last night, if at all. With quidditch practice going so late and his attempt to catch up on homework until the sun reappeared, he was doomed today.

You look past Draco towards Theo, sitting at the table diagonal to yours. You watch as he shakes his head slowly, as if to warn you. Just as your gaze trails back to Draco, Snape’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife.

“I would like to assume you all completed the assigned chapter twelve reading this week.” He grimaces. No one is brave enough to speak up, not even Hermione Granger.

“But that would be foolish. However, I will know whether you read the material or not when I ask each pair to come up here and create a Sleeping Draught potion.” He drags on.

“...successfully.”

The class releases a collective chorus of groans and gasps, some frantically looking around for help, others using every ounce of concentration to remember the ingredients from the chapter. Your studious nature and vivid memory serve you well as you start to mentally list the instructions. Recalling Snape’s demand in your head, you repeat the words out loud.

“Each pair.” You whisper. Without giving any thought to it, you instinctively grab Draco’s hand and dip your quill in ink, lowering it to his palm that you’ve rested on your thigh. You don’t have time to notice the layer of visible panic etched on his face.

“Sorry if this hurts, hun.” You say while looking down at his hand, keeping your touch light as a feather. You’re too concentrated to acknowledge the nickname you used, but he notes it with a subtle glance.

Biting your lip, you try to make the instructions as legible as possible on his skin. Meanwhile, Draco doesn’t ask a single question, just completely submitting to you taking control. His eyes scan over your face in awe, eyelids hanging heavy, as he mentally catches up to the present moment. Here you are, saving his ass once again.

“How come?” His whisper takes you by surprise considering his defeated state.

“How come what?”

“It’s always you. How come it’s always you?” His voice is rough from fatigue, but not enough to hide the sliver of his sweeter, softer side that seems to be creeping back out of its cage again.

“Malfoy and Y/L/N, such exemplary Slytherins.” Snape remarks. ”You will go first.”

Swallowing the tension in your throat, you nod reassuringly to Draco before lifting you both to your feet, cautiously walking up to the front of the class. When you reach the table, you take in the sight of dozens of ingredients before you. The six you need stand out to you immediately, but you aren’t so sure about your partner. Truthfully, your end goal was to make it through this excruciatingly public test without him collapsing. It will be a miracle if he even remembers the answers are literally written on him.

You choose a few ingredients and nudge an elbow to Draco’s side, urging him to participate. He remains still, only turning his head towards you. You see a weakness in his eyes that breaks your heart, that makes you want to hold him in your arms, but you snap yourself back to reality. You know you have to do something. Before he can give up, you open your mouth and let the words fall out with confidence. Your voice slices through the stillness of the room, creating a sea of surprised looks. But you keep your piercing eyes directly on his.

“Lucky for you, Severus, we know this one like the back of our hand.” Your smug tone earned a hushed grumble of laughter from the class. Draco’s eyes widen with pride and realization, darting back down to his hand, gracefully hiding the cheat-sheet you inscribed on it. Your heart swells as he correctly reaches for the lavender, wormwood, and valerian sprigs.

From there, you take turns adding and mixing the components. The two of you find a rhythm and work seemingly in sync with each other. Skillfully glancing down to your discreet notes, he returns your elbow nudge from earlier while smiling down at the finished product as if to say, “Look, we did it.”

You turn to your professor and are instantly met with a cold, stoic death stare. Your heart jumps.

“10 points for the potion, 5 taken for addressing me by my first name, which you will never… utter… again… Miss Y/L/N.” He sneers.

You both nod and make your way back to your desk, taking a deep breath and finally relaxing. As the next pair hesitantly rise from their seats, you turn to each other in your seats and nearly burst out laughing immediately upon making eye contact, the both of you covering your mouths like little kids. Trying to suppress his outburst, he grasps your hand, intertwining your fingers. You’re both squeezing with enough pressure that some of the ink on his palm imprints onto yours.

Finding some energy, Draco pulls your hand towards him and reaches for his quill. He starts to reciprocate your earlier gesture, gently writing on your palm, though the writing is a little less… neat. You read the words etched messily on your skin. So, how come?

A blush creeps onto your cheeks as the moment forces you to confront the feelings you’ve developed for him. He hasn’t completely let go of your hand yet, letting his fingertips linger on yours. Still committing to the dead silence of the room, you pull his hand back towards you once again, continuing your strange and intimate game of tug-of-war. Lifting his hand to your face, you place a gentle kiss on the back of his hand. Your confidence from the stunt you pulled starts to wither away, an abundance of nerves catching up as Draco’s hand suddenly releases from yours. Panic floods your body. 

Fuck.

But he doesn’t let it drop. No, instead, he reaches to cup your cheek, his other hand propping his head up on the desk. Your heart flutters as you relish the feel of his affectionate, gentle touch, his fingers just barely grazing your hair. There it is again. Prince Charming.

He lowers his hand and grins, pointing to the spot where the ink from his hand rubbed off on your cheek. He takes out his wand and whispers a spell to clear it, removing the evidence. He takes your hand in his again and rests them on his lap. He closes his eyes and drifts off, never letting his grip falter.

And that’s how you spent the rest of the potions class.

—

Heading back from dinner in the Great Hall that night, you spot Draco sitting on the stairs that lead down to the dungeons. You break away from the crowd, telling them you’ll catch up in a minute. You take a seat on the stair below his, facing him while resting your hands on his knee.

“I keep replaying the image of you calling him Severus in my head. There isn’t even a Gryffindor out there that could match your bravery.” He says, looking down at you with pure adoration.

“Well, I had to act quickly considering my partner was barely conscious. You were about to go down and I wasn’t going with you.”

He laughs shyly and rests a hand on top of yours.

“I got you something,” you say as you reach down to your robe pocket. In your fingers is a tiny vial of potion with a small bit of parchment tied to it with purple string, displaying his name. “It’s a bit of the very successful Sleeping Draught we made. I snuck some while you were mixing. You were a bit too… out of it to notice.”

You drop it into the palm of his hand, watching the grin on his face grow wider at the sight of the gift.

“We have a three day weekend starting tomorrow and you are going to take that and sleep through the whole thing.” You demand.

He remains quiet for a moment before moving himself down to the stair you’re sitting on, turning his body to face yours.

“To say I owe you is an understatement. I can’t possibly ever repay you.” He stores the vial in his pocket and looks back up to you.

“I don’t expect anything from you, Draco. I’m not doing you a favor. I’m just looking out for you.”

“But that’s just it, love. I rarely ever ask for your help, and yet you’re here… all the time.” His words slow their pace as he inches closer to your face, gazing down between your eyes and your lips.

You shrug with a small smile, giving him a look you know will melt his heart.

“Guess that’s what makes me such an ‘exemplary Slytherin.’” You smirk, referencing the title Snape had called you from class. And that does it for him.

He takes your head in his hands, cradling your face for a moment. He scans you over, like he’s taking a mental picture, examining your every feature. Within seconds, he’s pulling your face to him, claiming your lips with his. This isn’t a tender kiss, this kiss is everything. This kiss holds years worth of longing and laughter and gratitude. His lips move against yours slowly with no intention of breaking anytime soon. You feel your heart explode, a million little butterflies bursting from it. One of his hands moves to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He feels you smile against him, which he sends right back to you.

You feel his mouth open slightly between kisses and take the opportunity to slide your tongue in his mouth, earning a soft, satisfying groan from him. The vibration from his voice sends chills down your body, and you savor every second of it. Your tongues and lips dance with each other with hunger, claiming each other’s territory as your own. The soft texture of his lips, the rough movement of his mouth… It's almost too much. You want to get closer to him. You have to be closer to him.

You break the kiss for a second, lifting yourself up to land on his lap. As you settle down on his thighs, you run your fingers through his hair and catch glimmers of light and lust in his eyes as he continues to fall for you. Straddling him, you feel his hands immediately grabbing your ass, pushing your chest against his and crashing your lips together once again. Your arms wrap around his neck as he swallows the moan you let escape your throat. The bond between you feels electric, every thought in your head replaced by tiny, vivid sparks.

In the midst of your embrace, he detaches your lips momentarily, catching you by surprise. He maintains the intimacy, leaning his forehead on yours and nudging your nose with his.

“How am I supposed to sleep now?” He jokes and you can feel his hands move up to your waist, tightening their grip as if you’d ever try to leave.

“And I’m the eager one?” You scoff at him playfully. With your eyes so close to his, you can sense the depletion in them. That heavy-hearted feeling you experienced earlier, just when you thought he was about to give up, rises in your chest again.

“Let’s get you to bed before we get stupid and you fall apart.” You comfort him, kissing one cheek and then the other. You feel him sigh, knowing you’re right. He doesn’t have it in him to argue otherwise right now.

“Sorry, love.” He says modestly under his breath, the words laced with shame. “Promise me we can get stupid when I feel like a living person again.”

“You said it yourself, Draco. I’m here all the time. I’ll be there when you fall asleep and I’ll be ready,” you break mid-sentence to kiss him once more with vigor. You send the rest of the thought into his mouth, your voice drenched with desire.

“...when you wake up.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[callsign-dexter]

Together Against the World

Request: ok love bare with me on this plz lol 😂

so I was wondering if you could write a hangman x sister reader?

like maybe the little sister is significantly younger than hangman but after some incident he got full custody of her (you can choose what happened) and maybe the dagger team don’t know until they see him playing with her on the beach so they go over and question him about it and he explains but they are all in shock (because who could not be after seeing someone like Jake with a kid) at first they think the reader is his kid but Jake explains that even though legally you are we are only his sister. Maybe even the reader falls and gets hurt and Jake goes into full on loving parent mode.

maybe the reader is like 5

anyways sorry for the word dump and this is 100% your choice sorry for my bad punctua

Pairings: Jake Seresin x Sister!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, car crash

Masterlist

Nobody ever thinks that a tragedy could happen to them until it does, they always think “That’ll never happen to me.” but the funny thing about tragedy is that it doesn’t care who you are. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin thought the same way until he got the news that his parents and his 1-year-old sister, you, were in an accident and it had instantly killed his parents and that he needed to come pick his sister up from the hospital in Texas. You had some broken bones and some cuts and bruises but you were ok. Jake had to go to court and fill out paperwork and go before a judge for him to get full custody of you considering that your sister had been in the picture for a while. Besides Jake wouldn’t let anyone else have you after all he was your favorite.

4 years later you were now 5 years old and living your best life with your brother and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Sure, you moved a lot but as long as you had Jake nothing mattered. Jake loves having you around and wouldn’t change a thing and it changed his life for the better. He hadn’t been picking up random chicks from the bar and his drinking was cut down considerably. Not many people knew about you and Jake liked to keep it that way, it was a way to protect you, the only people that knew about you were the ones that needed to know like the higher-ups in the Navy. Jake hated pulling you out of schools and shoving you into new ones but all that would change after this special detachment you had brought it up one night during dinner before the move. Jake had noticed you were quiet and that concerned him since you were a mini version of him.

“Jakey?” You asked as you pushed food around on your plate.

“Yes, Peach?” He asked you, Peach, a nickname that came from you eating and loving peaches.

“Are we ever gonna stay in one place?” You asked him, looking at him with green doe eyes. Jake stopped eating and looked at you.

“I promise after this special detachment I’m putting in a request for a permanent station.” He said and you nodded “Finish your supper and get ready for bed I’ll be up to read to you after I clean up.” He said and you nodded. You both finished and you were off to get ready for bed. As you were getting ready for bed and Jake was cleaning up, he began thinking to himself about how your whole life was uprooted. He hated that you couldn’t grow attached to babysitters or make friends because you ended up moving in a month after getting to the new station. He promised to himself that he would put in a request to stay at Top Gun just so you didn’t have to keep moving around. As he finished up putting food away and cleaning the kitchen, he headed upstairs in your rental base house and to your room. As he was walking, he was looking at all the boxes packed and ready to go and when he reached your room and saw all of the boxes that had yet to be unpacked, he felt sad and frowned but that didn’t last long because he looked at you smiling at him. He read to you until you were asleep and then he turned the light out and cracked the door. Jake didn’t go to bed right away, instead he sat on the couch and grabbed his computer and started to look at a house in lovely Miramar. He figured he would move a week before that way he could get you settled and buy some furniture. After an hour of searching, he found the perfect one close to the beach, base, and schools and they had good ratings. He smiled and requested an appointment to look at it when you both arrived there in the morning. Jake closed his laptop and got ready for bed himself.

The next morning, he was up bright and early moving boxes into his truck and the mini trailer had hitched to the back. When he got to your room, he was sure to be quiet and got all of the boxes and then he decided to wake you up. “Hey, Y/N/N. Time to wake up. You can sleep in the truck.” He said and he heard you groan but you woke up and rubbed your eyes and nodded he raised your hands up and he chuckled. He stood up and picked you up and carried you out to the truck. He gently carried you down the stairs and you clung to him like your life depended on it and true to your fashion you fell asleep on him. He swore you could fall asleep anywhere and he was envious of it. When he got you situated in the truck he went back and did a once through making sure both of you had gotten everything as well as grabbing your sheets and comforter. When he got back to the truck you were still sleeping like a rock and he chuckled and shook his head, he tossed the sheets and comforter into the trailer in a box and then he got into the truck and started the 5 hr. drive from Lemoore to Miramar.

2 hrs. into the drive you had woken up and he kept you entertained with anything he could and you both stopped and got food at an IHop and then were back on the road. The rest of the ride was filled with off key singing and games. Your big brother was your world and everything you wanted in a male figure. “Are we there yet?” You asked, looking up at him and Jake chuckled.

“15 more minutes.” He said

“Fine.” You huffed but rolled your eyes and sighed and he chuckled. “But 15 minutes is too long.” You whined.

“Play on your tablet and it’ll go by faster.” He said and you grabbed it and your attention was focused on that. Music was playing softly in the background for Jake’s entertainment. True to his word 15 minutes did go by fast and you were pulling into a neighborhood and you looked up and forward your brow.

“Jakey?” You asked and he looked up.

“What’s up, Peach?” He asked

“What are we doing?” You asked

“Looking at a house.” He said and you nodded. He parked in the driveway and got out and then got you out and sat you down and then he saw the relator walk up to him.

“Good afternoon! I’m Alicia London. You must be Jake Seresin. I must say you have a beautiful daughter.” She said and Jake shook his head and smiled. He got that all the time.

“Yes, I’m Jake but this is my sister.” He said as you hid further into his leg.

“My apologies!” She said, embarrassed.

“No worries, ma’am.” He said

“Shall we have a look at the house?” She asked and he nodded. As you both were getting a tour, he was loving it especially the backyard. As they finished, he was smiling. “So, what do you think?” She asked.

“It’s perfect. I wanna go ahead and buy it. It’s in my price range and it’s a good distance from the base and school.” He said and she seemed shocked.

“Of course, Mr. Seresin. I’ll get the paperwork started and you can move in today.” She said and he nodded.

“That would be great. Also please call me Jake. Mr. Seresin has since passed.” Jake said and she nodded and walked out of the room he turned to look at you.

“What do you think?” He asked and you seemed to look around for a minute.

“I like it!” You shouted and he smiled. Alicia walked back in.

“Good news! You got the house since no others were interested in it and here is the key.” She said and handed it to him. “All I need you to do is sign the papers and then the rest can be handled at a later time.” She said and he smiled. “I’ll get out of your hair and let you settle in and I’ll be in contact.” She said and he nodded and left. Jake started to move everything in with your help and once everything was set up you both went shopping. First you went to furniture stores and found everything you both liked and then the grocery store. The furniture was delivered the same day and in about an hour everything was put together and ready to go.

When Jake dropped you off at your new school the next morning he had stopped by the bank and got everything sorted and now it was time for him to figure things out like finding a babysitter for you. He met with a lot of people but he settled for an 18-year-old that was going to school and needed a part time job named Bailey. When he went to pick you up from school you were in much better spirits and loving Miramar.

===============================

A week passed quickly and now it was time for him to go and meet his squad while you stayed home with your new babysitter. When she got there, he introduced you two and both of you hit it off. As he was preparing to leave, he got down on your level “You be good for Bailey and do what she says. Understand?” He asked in a parental tone and you nodded.

“You got it, Jakey!” You said and hugged him he hugged you back and turned to Bailey.

“If you have any problems or questions don’t hesitate to call. I should be back by 10:30.” He said and she nodded.

“You got it, Jake.” She said and he bid you both a goodbye and then left. When Jake got to the Hard Deck nobody else was there but he didn’t have to last long because Javy was calling out his name and they greeted each other.

“Long time no see man!” Javy said and they both smiled.

“You got that right!” Jake said as they grabbed drinks from Penny and they thanked her and walked over to the pool table and dart board.

“How’s Y/N doing?” Javy asked, taking a sip from his drink.

“Settling in better than i expected. She loves her new school and her babysitter.” Jake said, throwing a dart and then taking a drink of his beer. They continued to talk until the other showed up and after having a little argument with Bradley and throwing someone overboard along with Rooster playing the piano, it was 10 PM. “Well, I better get going.” Jake said and that shocked everyone.

“Leaving so soon, Hangman?” Bradley said and Jake just scoffed.

“Like you would want to know.” He said and walked off and out of the bar confusing his teammates.

“What do you think he is hiding? A secret family, girlfriend, or kid?” Natasha said and everybody shrugged and chipped in their answers but Javy, he knew the truth.

===============================

Jake got home right at 10:30 and parked in the driveway and headed inside. Everything was probably neater than he left it and smiled. He walked into the living room to see his baby sister and Bailey curled up on the couch and he smiled. Bailey noticed him and smiled “She wasn't too much trouble, was she?” He asked as he walked over and stroked his sister’s hair. Bailey shook her head.

“Not in the least bit. She is the sweetest little girl ever. She didn’t put up a fight when I told her to brush her teeth or get changed for bed. She wanted to stay up but as soon as we put on the second movie she was out like a light.” Bailey said standing up making sure the girl didn’t fall off the couch and Jake smiled.

“Good, she seemed to really take to you. It’s not often that happens.” Jake said as he pulled out his wallet and gave her the money.

“I really like her too. If you need me anytime, let me know.” She said and Jake nodded and walked her to the door and made sure she got her car safely and then locked the door. He walked over to Y/N and picked her up and she clung to him like her life depended on it. He walked up the stairs and to her room and gently put her into bed.

“Good night, Peach. I love you.” He said and kissed her forehead and got ready for bed himself.

===============================

Every time after training instead of going out to The Hard Deck or hanging out with the squad he would rush out of the locker room that way he could go and pick up his sister from school and hang out with her. “Hangman, you coming to The Hard Deck?” Nat asked as he collected her things.

“Nope. I got some stuff to do and someone that I need to take care of.” Jake said and headed out without a word again confusing the group.

“He’s hiding something. I wanna know what it is.” Bradley said and again they all nodded and carried on with their day and night. Javy hadn’t said a word wanting to keep Jake’s promise that he wanted to keep her a secret until they knew everything was going to be ok.

===============================

The day of the dogfight football came and they, besides Javy, were determined to get an answer out of Jake as they started playing, they didn’t bring it up. They agreed to bring it up when it was well into the game that way, he would be too focused on the game to think about anything else. “So, Hangman. Have you got anyone back home?” Bradley asked as they set up for another hike. Jake smirked.

“That is none of your business, Rooster.” Jake said as they continued to play the game. It was well into the day and the game when they decided for a break. Jake went and got his drink and checked his phone and about dropped it when he saw that he had several missed calls from Bailey and he instantly called back making sure that nobody was around him.

“Bailey. What’s wrong?” Jake asked as soon as she answered the phone.

“Jake, I’m sorry I called you so many times. Y/N’s school called and said that she had an accident at school and they rushed her to the ER. We’re still here.” Bailey said and he could hear in her voice that she was panicked.

“No, I’m sorry that I didn’t have my phone on me. I was busy with work. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Did they say what happened to her?” Jake said, already throwing on a t-shirt and grabbing his stuff.

“No, they didn’t or at least not to me. We’ll see you when you get here.” Bailey said and they hung up.

Jake walked over to Maverick, and he smiled at the young aviator but frowned when he saw his face “Everything ok?” Maverick asked and Jake shook his head.

“My sister is in the hospital. I need to go.” Jake said and Maverick nodded, he knew all about Y/N then again it was in Jake’s record.

“You go to her and take Javy with you. Tell Y/N I said hi.” Maverick said and Jake nodded and rushed off, Maverick knew those two were best friends, but not before Javy caught him.

“Everything ok with Y/N/N?” Javy asked and Jake shook his head “I’m coming with you.” He said and Jake nodded and they headed off. This didn’t go unnoticed by the rest and they instantly went to Maverick.

“Where are they off to?” Bob asked out of curiosity.

“Jake had an emergency he needed to tend to and Javy went with him.” Maverick said not wanting to spill his secret. Nobody said anything too worried about their team members.

===============================

Jake and Javy made it to the hospital in record time and went to the front desk and they led her to her room. “Jakey! Javy!” you said excitedly.

“Hey, Peach and Bailey.” Jake said and hugged you carefully.

“Hey there, Sweetie.” Javy said and then the doctor walked in.

“You must be Jake. I’m Dr. Zeke.” Dr. Zeke said and shook his hand.

“Yea that’s me. I’m her brother. What happened?” Jake asked as Bailey and Javy stepped out of the room to give them some time to talk.

“It seemed like she took a fall on the playground and was unconscious for a minute and when she woke up was a little disoriented so she was brought her. Over the few hours we have been keeping an eye on her and she seems to be improving. She’s actually ready to go home.” Dr. Zeke said and Jake nodded and they talked more and then he was signing discharge papers and they were heading home. The rest of the day and night was spent cuddling and watching movies. Javy and Bailey had left the hospital.

===============================

The mission came and went and was successful. Everyone was spending the much-needed time off the second day off they had gotten the announcement that they were officially a squadron. It was spent mostly at The Hard Deck, the beach, or with each other, surprisingly. Everyone but Jake, that is, he was spending it with you. “Jakey?” You asked as you were eating lunch and he looked up at you.

“Yes, Peach?” He asked back.

“Can we go to the beach?” You asked excitedly and he smiled.

“Of course! Do you wanna go after lunch?” He asked and you nodded enthusiastically. He chuckled “Ok, finish up and then go and get ready.” He said and he watched you quickly eat and then scamper off. He then got himself ready and a bag ready and when you padded downstairs he smiled and you two headed off to the beach. The truck ride was filled with music and singing and occasionally laughing. Jake found a spot and parked and now you two had sat off towards the beach and the water.

===============================

The Daggers, as they were officially called now, were at the beach hanging out and playing some dogfight football. As they were sitting on the beach talking and laughing along with sharing stories. A shriek caught Bradley’s attention and looked up "Is that Jake... with a child?" Rooster asked, squinting against the sun, looking at what may be his wingman. This caught everyone’s attention and looked in his direction. What they saw was Jake and a little girl in the water and Jake holding her up as a wave came up.

“I believe it is.” Nat said as they watched the both of you come out of the water/

“Should we go say hi?” Bob asked and everyone nodded so they got up and headed over. Jake saw them coming when he turned his head and he sighed, they were going to find out sooner or later. “Hey, Jake.” Bob said when they reached him.

“Hey guys.” Jake greeted and then he felt a tug on his arm and he looked down to see you looking up at him.

“Jakey?” You asked and hid further behind him while looking at the group of strangers.

“Y/N/N I want you to meet Natasha, Bradley, Bob, Ruben, and Mickey.” Jake said pointing at each and every one of them. Everyone greeted everyone and then you saw Javy.

“Javy!” You yelled out and ran to him and hugged him and he quickly picked you up and hugged you.

“We didn’t know you had a kid.” Bradley said and Jake shook his head.

“Not my kid. My sister.” Jake said as Javy put you down and you ran off to start building a sand castle as everyone went and sat down. “I got custody after our parents got into an accident when she was 1 and nobody was willing to take her.” Jake said a little mad at his siblings but he would never give you up for anything.

“I’m so sorry to hear that.” Bob said as you came up to them and pulled Bob up and to your sand castle so he could help and Bob couldn’t say no and he already loved you.

“She’s a good kid and once she warms up to you, she’ll be your friend for life.” Jake said and smirked pointing to Bob and you as an example. It wasn’t 10 minutes later you both came back to the group and you went to Bradley and stared at him, more specifically his mustache “Yea, Peach I had the same reaction.” He said and everyone chuckled while Bradley rolled his eyes but smiled. You touched it and then giggled and then went to your brother’s lap and sat down and then snuggled into him and was out like a light.

“Peach?” Mickey asked and Jake chuckled.

“Yea, she absolutely loves peaches.” He said and they chuckled.

“Jake, I’m glad you told us about her. She is so adorable.” Ruben said and everyone agreed.

“My old squad never cared and I didn’t trust them. The only people that know about her are the higher-ups, Maverick, Cyclone, Warlock, and Javy. But that is because she is on my record and Javy was there when I got the call and when I went to pick her up.” Jake said and Javy nodded conforming to it.

“If you need anything, I mean anything. We are here for you no matter what.” Natasha said and Jake smiled while everyone agreed.

“Thanks guys, that means so much to me.” Jake said as you moved slightly. He was very glad that he told them about you. Now he didn’t have to hide you and he had more help than ever especially when Bailey couldn’t make it. Your family just expanded to many cool aunts and uncles. You were going to be so protected.

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

[sing-to-survive]

Paul, Emma, what happened after the meteor incident? And how did you create the call and find other survivors?

Well, after Paul blew the meteor up, I got picked up by some military people and brought to a hospital in fucking Clivesdale of all places. I was gonna go off and make a new life for myself, when they brought in Paul (weirdly uninjured and in one piece despite having recently blown himself up, might I add)...and he started singing. And then more people came in, and they were singing too. Motherfuckers had a whole ass musical number prepared for the sole purpose of getting me to join the Hive. It was scary as shit.

But! But it was a ruse on my part! I was just playing along. I mean, sure, I was singing and dancing and...honestly kind of having fun, but I was still me. I was...am...infected, sure, but I'm not fully in harmony with the rest of the Hive. Like...the infection hadn't gotten the chance to fully reach my brain, if that makes sense. I have the music and choreography down in my head, but no true...need to do them, I guess. There's no real big compulsion to break out into song and dance in my everyday life.

Yeah, well anyways, you assholes dragged me backstage and I about died.

But I managed to pull her aside and explain what was going on before the rest of the Hive could apotheosize her.

From there we snuck out, stole someone's car, and drove back to Hatchetfield, 'cause like hell we were staying in Clivesdale! Fuck Clivesdale!

Fuck 'em. And besides, with the Hive having relowered the Nantucket Bridge, they were already well on their way towards inevitably spreading and infecting the rest of the world, so it's not like it would be any different going back home in comparison to anywhere else from an apocalypse perspective.

We started off just living each day as we got 'em, using Paul here as a living Hive detector in order to stay hidden. Then we just kind of...stumbled upon other survivors one day, and they ended up tagging along with us. And then we found more and more until eventually it would have been too dangerous to keep moving around with such a large group, so we settled down a bit and established a "home base" of sorts.

We've never exactly announced our existence before now, as if we did, the Hive would likely be just as likely to hear us as other survivors would, if not more. Usually people either find us on accident, or we find them on accident, and we take them back with us.

And that's pretty much the gist of it. Hope that answered your question.

[sugarywishes]

How did the Aftons react to Evan's death via the bite?

About time I get an angsty question, let's dive right in!!

The Afton Family (we'll get into specifics in a minute)

- Well, it was a death in a established/popular entertainment location. Not to mention a gruesome death, so obviously everyone and their mother not only made several tabloids and news reports, they also interviewed/interrogated EVERYONE AT THE PARTY

- so what a joy it was to not only have the company's name slandered, but your family was constantly harrassed about the whole situation too!!

- Michael and Elizabeth's classmates would always ask them about the incident, to the point where William pulled them out of school for a while

- Their neighbors became extremely nosy abt it as well (asking about funeral plans, if they were gonna have Michael arrested etc) and the family itself was already pretty isolated, so they basically became antisocial afterwards and avoided talking to people

- I briefly mentioned this in the Charlie post, but William was kicked out of the company shortly afterwards (my version of Henry was originally kind of a self-centered, prideful man before Charlie...yk ☹) bc of the bad publicity towards him and the fact it was fucking up the business now (I'll list more reasons in a bit) so now the only friend the Aftons had was giving them the cold shoulder and cutting ties with them to avoid affiliations

Okay specifics time!! (This might be a long post so grab some 🍿)

Michael Afton (not the Michael color, I know, there's no gray!!)

- All Mikey wanted to do was just prank Evan, teach him a lesson for getting him in trouble more than usual.

- Nice going, Michael.

- Oh boy. This guy went to a literal state of shock (I'm talking HE FROZE IN FEAR KINDA SHOCK) as soon as Fredbear's jaw closed

- He didn't even manage to 'wake up' until they were already in the hospital (Lizzie dragged him there)

- and of course Mike was scared and remorseful, his prank was quite literally meant to be a funny haha moment which ended up as him technically becoming a murderer 😭😭

- He nearly vomited and passed out as soon as he heard Evan died

- When Michael returned to school, best believe he lost all his popularity, now everyone knew him as the guy who killed his brother (the other kids involved in the prank distanced themselves as far away from it as possible) and so he became a friendless outcast :(

- Even Jeremy stopped talking to him, mostly because of what Jeremy's mom said about them for clout

- which totally didn't help his now declining mental health

Elizabeth Afton

- Lizzie was actually hanging around the bathroom area talking with Charlie when the bite happened, she would've been too late to stop it anyway

- She literally lost her twin. It's not the best feeling in the world.

- Of course she felt terrible about the whole situation but also,,,a sense of liberation??

- like, the one person who stood in the way of her gaining her father's love is dead. Mike doesn't give 2 shits about Will, and Clara is already in a loveless relationship with him. So now it leaves her as his new favorite

- she surprisingly was able to move on faster than the rest of her family (at least on the outside, as I said she did lose her baby brother)

- but it's not a fun life afterwards, considering she no longer had friends at school now since Will pulled her out quickly (and plus, Henry started cutting ties with the Aftons so now she couldn't hang out with Charlie!!) And again, she started losing her mind just like the rest of the family

Clara Afton

- Girly was just tryna to find a camera in the car outside, she didn't see or hear the bite thankfully (she did have to see the image of her bleeding son being carried out by his father though)

- Evan's death is truly what got her motivated enough to actually start fighting against Will's constant mistreatment of her and the kids

- but of course that doesn't last long. (Guess who ends up in Ballora?)

- because of the news (and more specifically, one particular news article made by a Mrs. Helen Fitzgerald, mother of Jeremy Fitzgerald,,,👀) she was now labeled a neglectful, hosebag mom who was probably in it for those Afton bucks 💸 which ruined her relationship with her neighbors and friends

- Remember, EVERYONES reputation was terribly slandered by the bite (and by the media wanting to cause more drama)

- She was already a stressed out, meek person because of her marriage with William, she got a lot worse after her baby died

William Afton (his is the LONGEST sorry for the text walls)

- He was just about ready to carry out Evan's birthday cake as soon as he heard the screams of terror

- He reacted almost instantly. William is not a very physically strong looking man, but he is powerful enough to break a robot's jaw open.

- He pulled Evan's body out (as best as he could, he was rushing to save him so who knows if some...chunks were still left inside 🤢🤢 sorry for the mental image)

- He didn't acknowledge ANYONE else in the room. And he didn't even have the rest of his family get into the car, he placed Evan in the back with a blanket wrapped tightly around his head and drove off, leaving the rest of the family to find another way to the hospital

- but of course his efforts were all for nothing.

- Everyone kinda expected him to become deranged and violently (publicly) abusive but for a while he was just...numb. and detached from everyone and everything. He wouldn't talk to a single person and would isolate himself in his workshop/basement to grieve

- (he didn't even bother punishing Michael for the accident, which set off a lot of red flags for Mikey who knew that something would snap inside his father soon)

- His already inconsistent sanity started cracking when his name and family were considered pariahs now (thanks a lot Helen for further spreading rumors about them)

- it became even worse when Henry kicked him out (According to Henry's excuses, he knew Will was likely never going to recover from the bite so he might as well give him an 'early retirement')

- (Basically, Will wasn't coming to work at all and wasn't making them money, his damaged reputation would ruin the now shitty rep of the diner more, and bc of the Aftons now being associated with the words 'horrible' 'neglectful' and 'irresponsible' , Henry just decided to tie up loose ends and get rid of him to save face) (Remember that Henry was an asshole and only got to his redemption journey once his daughter died)

- So, great. But what's this?? The closed Fredbear's Family Diner Fredbear animatronic is acting?? Off?? Sort of seems...alive??? You bet it is!!

- And of course, we all know what happens from there.

Thanks for asking! If you want more just ask!!

[sylphidine]

[Fic] Call Signs, Chapter 40

Fandom: Deltarune

‘Verse: Human AU

Pairings: Swatch/Spamton [Swatchton]; Spamton/T.M. [Spamager], GiGi/Leroux [QueenKaard]

Characters: Spamton Addison, Swatch Paletta, T.M. Tinker, GiGi McCray, Leroux Kaard, Lance O'Toole, Kirov Rouvin, Umar Benton, Detective Dynah Unwin, Detective "Blooky" Knapp

Rating: Mature

Chapter title: Interface Screw - Afternoon Into Night, Part One

Chapter summary: "Some dance to remember, some dance to forget." Isn't that how the song goes?

Our dancers and their loved ones have a lot to go through before this day is over.

Author notes:

SIGNIFICANT contributions towards plot and dialogue made by beta-reader @jaimistoryteller Read their stuff!

Some Hometown folks making their first appearance in this fic. Wave hello to Undyne and Napstablook, everyone!

Content warnings are the same as have been for the last few chapters [stalkerish behavior, implied harm/danger to a child]. We're in murky waters here despite the brightness of the day.

===================

9:47PM, April 9th

"Hey, Dynah?"

"Yeah, Blooky?" 

“Why were we given this assignment, anyway?” Detective Knapp grumbled. “We aren't the Health Department."

"Because Chief Flowers asked us to. He gets a little… dogged… when we get any kind of investigation having to do with a college. Since his oldest kid… you know.” Detective Unwin momentarily took one hand off the steering wheel to make a vague wave in the air.

One could almost hear the puzzle pieces snapping into place in Knapp’s mind. "Yeah,” they sighed, understanding clear in their eyes as Unwin snuck a quick look at them. “That makes sense. What's he expecting us to find here?"

"Eh,” Unwin shrugged, returning her attention to the road and marking off the mileage until the expected time of arrival at the hospital. “Could be anything. Petty stuff would be that somebody was selling food without a license. Let's hope we don't need to get into serious stuff."

"Cheers to that," said Knapp. "Anyway, it gets us out of the office."

Unwin showed all her sharp teeth to her patrol partner as she replied, "Let's hope for no incidents and no paperwork."

2:30AM, April 10th

There ended up being a LOT of paperwork.

12:30PM, April 9th

Kirov leaned against the empty table as he glanced at the time again, his foot tapped rapidly against the ground. Half-past noon. Umar Benton should have been here already with their supplies. They should have been all set up ages ago. 

The longer he had to think about his encounter with Stanton a few hours ago, the more time he had to doubt himself. Even up to last night… no, even when he had woken up this morning… he’d had a plan, a goal. 

But was it the right thing to do? 

He had been so certain that the three of them… Stanton, the bartender, and the blonde… had been taunting him that night at Plato’s. That they looked down on him. 

And when he’d gone over to listen to the music a little while ago, to kill time while waiting for his tardy roommate, the songs seemed to mock him. 

Yet with how kind Stanton was at all other times.. maybe Kirov had been mistaken? 

He hated second-guessing himself. It made him feel like his brain was full of bees. 

Huffing, he finally caught sight of Umar and waved at him to draw his attention. 

His stocky roommate was pulling a wagon behind him loaded up with everything for the table. A cooler full of ice, a plastic punchbowl, some smaller bowls where people could drop their monetary donations, a ladle, disposable cups, thirty-six half-pint mason jars thankfully wrapped with brown paper to keep them from breaking against each other, and a large box with a dozen two-liter bottles of kvass with corrugated dividers holding the bottles steady . 

At least none of the jars are broken , he thought as he straightened up and pasted a fake smile on his face. For that, he could be grateful, even if he was frustrated from having to wait so long. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Umar panted, wiping the sweat and drizzle from his brown forehead with an even browner hand.

“Not to worry, friend,” Kirov replied, mentally gritting his teeth. “We still have plenty of time!”

He propped a sign that read KVASS AND KOMPOT FOR UKRAINE against the front-side of the punchbowl. Then he set up the cups and wrote the word “donations” in curly print on the donation bowls, for all to see. 

Beside him, Umar carefully set a few of the jars on the table, closer to the middle, so there was little risk of them getting knocked over and broken. At Kirov’s direction, he put some of the kvass bottles on ice in the cooler and rolled the wagon behind the table to be out of the way.

The vendor in the booth across from them glanced between the overcast sky and their table. Squinting, the vendor took notice of their sign and commented, “Yes, take your time. Ain’t like it’s better spent.” 

Kirov bit back a sigh as he also looked at the sky that was threatening rain again. Today wasn’t going how he wanted. Hopefully that wasn’t a sign he needed to pay attention to. 

He wanted to be as sure now as he’d been last night.  He hated this feeling of uncertainty.

The first two jars of kompot were poured into the punchbowl. Kirov tried to keep smiling, but it was getting more difficult by the minute.

1:10PM, April 9th

As the three of them finished lunch, Spamton knew that he hadn’t fooled Swatch.

His beautiful, clever lover had watched him don The Suit this morning, with no more reaction than a raised eyebrow. Spamton had almost hoped that Swatch would ask him why he was wearing it today.

He was wearing it to expiate his sins. As a way to atone. 

Instead of bilking people out of money for a smart home system that didn’t work, targeting the elderly for something they didn’t need and couldn’t afford, he was raising money to help people escape from horrors.

He needed to be able to look at The Suit and not think of Mike. To create new memories tied to it. Positive ones. Hopeful ones. 

He needed to channel whatever positive energy there had EVER been in being a Big Shot, and use that energy to get people to feel like they could actually make a difference in the world.

Which is why, when he had run into Kirov Rouvin at the coffee stall in the morning, he had felt compelled to return the younger man’s cheerful greeting and to praise him when he heard that Kirov had a vendor booth at the Festival. It had been good to see Kirov finding a purpose, a cause to get behind. Perhaps even help him find his place in life.

If Trez had been with him then, Spamton didn’t doubt that she’d have made a not-too-subtle face when Kirov insisted on paying for the three coffees, including the one for Swatch. 

He didn’t doubt that Swatch, and Trez as well for that matter, were right to be suspicious. He had surprised himself by going on the offensive with his song selections when he had noticed Kirov hovering at the edges of the dance floor earlier.

Hopefully the message had been taken.  He really wanted to just enjoy today, and tonight, with his lovers.

But for now, he had another set of records to spin.

1:40PM, April 9th

T.M. knew exactly how she wanted to kill the next couple of hours, and had no trouble convincing Swatch to join her. The coast was clear at her dorm suite, since Her Majesty and Mister Wormyhead were committed to the 2pm dance session. 

How many more opportunities was she going to get to just cuddle with her bestie, neither of them needing to talk?  Graduation would be upon them both in a matter of weeks.

So she set her phone alarm for 3:15pm as Swatch stretched out on her bed. She lay down and curled herself into their arms.

If some tears leaked from her eyes and soaked into the shoulder of their shirt, as she fell asleep, Swatch was too much of a gentleman to tell her.

2:01PM, April 9th

Back in his booth, Spamton was pleasantly surprised at the turnout for the Medieval, Baroque, Georgian & Regency Dance hour. He’d expected maybe ten people to show up. He did a quick head count of thirty, as Leroux did the top-of-the-hour intro. Spamton regretted that he hadn’t thought far enough ahead to borrow some kind of Shakespearean costume from the theater department, the way most of the dancers probably had. It looked like the casts of THE TUDORS and BRIDGERTON were having a “take no prisoners” dance-off.

Oh, well.  He could pretend he was a time traveler who’d gone back too far.

He kept his hands busy segueing between two different albums of Scottish jigs and reels that Eos had lent him, before switching in Handel’s Water Music and the Istanpitta recordings, to keep everyone guessing.

The group on the dance floor definitely having the most fun, though, were Leroux, GiGi, and Leroux's son Lance.  Leroux was in his element, guiding the steps of the other two through the movements, making their own little circle. Several of the other couples and groups around them were audibly cheering them on. The little boy was grinning wider and laughing harder with every new song that Spamton queued up.

Lance could have been a doppelganger of himself, a young’un who just HAD to respond to music by kicking up his heels and throwing his whole soul into it.

Spamton prayed under his breath, if there WAS a Heaven listening, that this particular little boy would never have his joy stifled by anyone.

In terms of sheer professional satisfaction, this was going to be a hard music set to beat.  But Spamton had his own reasons to be looking forward to the Pajama Party set he was planning for later in the afternoon.

2:40PM, April 9th

“‘Tis a pity I could not arrangeth something more formal,” Leroux said in an apologetic tone when he was near enough to be heard. “Country dancing doth hold a special place in my heart.”

GiGi looked into his face as he passed in front of her and then to the side. She noticed the sparkle in his eyes, and she felt a rush of warmth shoot up her spine. She had Lance’s hands clasped in both of hers, while she tried to keep up with the kick-step jig that the boy was making up as he went along. Leroux, in his turn, was doing some very fancy and stylized footwork, making a circle of his own around GiGi’s and Lance’s two-person circle.

“This is so much fun!” She heard different versions of that from nearly every side of the pavilion that their threesome’s dance steps took them. She hadn’t noticed all the people gathering to watch the dancers, but this WAS a festival, after all. And even if the weather wasn’t the greatest, Garlic Park usually had a crowd of fresh-air fanatics and health nuts strolling its paths on Saturdays.

Either way, she couldn’t imagine being happier than she was at this moment.

Well, maybe she COULD, but she highly doubted she was getting a proposal today. No need to take the spotlight away from Leroux’s son.

The last notes of what the strange robotic DJ had called “Party Mix 1350 CE” faded out, and there was a loud burst of applause from dancers and spectators alike.

GiGi squeezed Lance’s hands affectionately and then leaned down to give him a hug. She asked, “Are You Having A Good Birthday, Little Man?”

“The best, girldad!” He then wiggled out of her grasp, letting Leroux pick him up and swoop him through the air like a chubby little airplane.

It was nearing three o’clock. A delicious smell of grilled chicken wafted through the air. 

“Who would like to taketh a stroll with me and purchase some kebabs?” Leroux asked, with his arms full of wiggly child.

“Oh, boy, I would!” Lance shouted happily. “Can we?”

“May We, You Mean?” GiGi interjected before her brain caught up with her mouth, and she winced.  It wasn’t her place… yet… to correct Leroux’s son’s grammar.  

Fortunately, her boyfriend didn’t seem to mind, as he replied for both himself and his little boy, “Yes, we both can and may.” He shifted Lance to a one-armed carry and extended the other arm to GiGi.  “Let’s!”

She moved to wrap her own arm around his waist as they walked towards the food stalls.

5PM, April 9th

It was gone.

He couldn’t find the jar he had fully intended earlier that day to set aside and dump into a Port-a-Potty, rather than to use as an instrument of revenge. 

Now he couldn’t believe what Umar had just told him.

“You what!” Kirov snarled as he lost all semblance of patience. He must have misheard. That had to be it. There was no way that he heard right. He should have taken the weather as a sign. Today had definitely gone wrong. “Oxuš ällarg oruš kariyna,” he muttered under his breath, a phrase he hadn’t heard in years but was completely fitting for the situation at hand.

“I didn’t know!” Umar’s eyes were wide with panic. “I thought they were supposed to be mixed together!” One brown hand waved at the now-empty jars. “There were only two jars left, and one of them just said ‘berry’, and you were adding all kinds of other berries last night.” He was breathless as he rapidly explained it. “And since it looked like you were running out, I thought this would help things go a little further. At least people seem to like it, there’s barely any kompot left, just kvass .”

No, no, no. Kirov chanted the words to himself like a litany. 

Chest tightening, each breath more labored than the previous as he considered the implications. If Umar had poured the whole jar of "special juice" into the punchbowl when he refilled it…

His eyes darted around the area, over the gathering, pausing on those that he knew had stopped at their booth. 

That meant…

Forcing himself to take a calming breath, he tried to figure out how to fix this. There had to be a way. He just had to think it through. Quickly.  He wrestled his expression away from the fury and panic, into something a bit more amused and pleasant. Some would even call it playful, if not for the edge to it. 

“Ah, well, what’s done is done, friend!” He chuckled dryly, even almost sounded normal. “No one has asked for their donation back, so they must have liked the taste, no?”

He hoped no one noticed his prior outburst. That would be a real problem later, when it came out that there had been food tampering, if they’d heard his tone. With so many people having drunk the kompot now, instead of the three for which the fellonwort juice had been intended, there’s no way the poisoning wouldn’t be investigated. He had to make sure that the suspicion didn't fall on him. 

Umar gave a relieved smile. “If the reaction of the last group is anything to go by, they loved it!” He nodded excitedly, “They even came back and bought a couple more glasses to bring to one of the DJs!”

To one of the DJs? To Stanton? Now that I’d made up my mind to call the whole thing off? Universe, why do you hate me?. 

He mused for a few more , working on coming up with a plan. I’d better do something. 

Kirov chuckled again, struck by a dangerous idea. It should keep him free of suspicion. “That’s good!” He exclaimed as he reached for a cup, “And I am going to claim the privilege of the last glass!” 

He could only hope that the fellonwort mixed in was diluted enough as he suited action to words, ladled the dregs of the kompot, and downed it in one go. It was surprisingly sweet, even as his nerves caused a bitter aftertaste. 

“Please take one of the kvass bottles for yourself!” He smiled and motioned to the cooler with its melting ice. “We have raised much in donations!”

4PM, April 9th

Hard to believe that the accident ending their basketball career had been five months ago.  Swatch felt as limber and loose on the dance floor as they ever had doing a full-court press or a banana cut against an opposing team. The impact on their ankles and knees wasn’t nearly as ferocious, for starters. 

Their nap with Moggy had definitely recharged their batteries. And their current outfit certainly added to the mobility and freedom they felt. It was a pajama party, after all.

Swatch had donned their Christmas onesie, decorated with candy canes and holly leaves, for this timeslot. Moggy wore her double-zero football jersey nightgown.

Both of them sensibly wore sneakers instead of slippers.  There was only so far either of them wanted to go along with the theme, and for this session, “DJ Dreamweaver” seemed to be pulling out all the stops. No need to break yet another leg by sliding dangerously on a slick floor.

Moggy and Swatch had skipped across the dance floor towards each other as the opening drumbeats, hand-claps, and guitar chords of “Dancing With Myself” rang out. The energy didn’t show any signs of letting up with any of the next few tunes.

And then Spamton, sly devil that he was, faded out “Into The Groove” and faded in “All Night”. Swatch couldn’t see it, but they didn’t doubt that their boyfriend was smirking behind that ridiculous helmet. That particular Parov Stelar song HAD to be the equivalent of a thrown-down gauntlet.

Oh, it was ON! Challenge accepted. They grinned and rolled their shoulders. 

If Spamton wanted a bird-of-paradise courtship display, Spamton was going to GET a bird-of-paradise courtship display.  

“You might want to back up, Moggy,” they warned in a gentle tone.  

The grin on T.M.’s face widened, and she asked as she moved out of wingspan range, “Gonna bust some Sven Otten moves?”

“Damn straight.” They agreed, their smile turned nearly manic. 

Praying that their knee wouldn’t pop back out, Swatch waggled their hips and built up their footwork from a slow swaying to a faster crossed-ankle tap dancing style, their arms alternately held close to their body and fully splayed out.

Thank goodness this song was only two and a half minutes long. 

And there were still more than thirty minutes of this set to get through.

They were definitely going to need to rehydrate when this was all over.

As if Spamton had read Swatch’s mind from across the dance floor, the next song that flowed off the turntables was “Red Rain”. A slower tempo, which was most welcome.

T.M. reached out a hand to Swatch to pull them back into the new rhythm, but there was a slight frown on her face.

They asked, “Anything the matter?” when the steps brought them close enough to hear each other.

“Kinda a grim song to play at a fundraiser for peace,” she replied.

They considered it, then asked, “You think he’s doing the ‘secret code’ thing again?”

She shook her head, “Nah. Probably just liked the percussion. But he’s definitely acting weird today.”

“Glad you noticed, and that it’s not just me.”

The two spun away from one another in their impromptu foxtrot.  When they faced one another again, Swatch said. “I’ve got an idea as to why, but I want to talk to him before I jump to conclusions.”

“Uh huh. It’s almost like he’s high or something.”

The whispered words of one song segued into the jazzy opening bars of “Safe and Sound”, and Swatch and T.M. concentrated on picking up the pace.

Solving the mystery would have to wait until after this set. This was Spamton’s last obligation for the day, and then the three of them could go back to Tibbetts Avenue and unwind with a movie.

After getting something to drink. Replacing fluids after all this exercise was a priority.

10:02PM, April 9th

T.M. sat on the hard plastic chair in the waiting room next to GiGi. She had no idea how long the two of them had been holding hands.

How had this wonderful day turned into such a disastrous one?

11:12PM, April 9th

Pain radiated from his stomach outward. Muscles tightened and cramped. No matter how much water he drank, he couldn’t rid himself of the thirst that built up. When it got to be too much to handle, he had joined the others at the hospital, where a triage center had been set up for those who were suffering from "food poisoning". 

It was there, in the examination room he’d finally been shown to, that he was confronted by the severity of the situation. Why hadn’t he made certain the poison was not able to be added? Why hadn’t he thought this through better? He should have gotten rid of the berries and their juice as soon as he started having doubts. 

“I know why you did it,” a friendly voice stated, drawing him from his pain-filled musing and reminding him that he was no longer alone in the room. And why.

“I did something like it in grammar school when I was a Girl Scout. I was jealous over some other girl’s badges…” She paused, sliding her chair closer to the gurney he was lying on, until he met her gaze. “Seemed like all she had to do was breathe, and she’d get a new Scout badge. So one afternoon on a Scout camping weekend, I picked some berries and did a switcheroo with the troop leaders' berry stash when we were all making our ‘wilderness survival’ dinner.”

Swallowing harshly, he listened to the plainclothes detective who was speaking quietly and thoughtfully. Keen eyes watched him as she spoke, observing each of his reactions. She sported an aquamarine mohawk with shaved sides and a black eye patch studded with silver rivets, which set off her sharp cheekbones and predator-toothy smile. 

If Kirov had not been feeling so ill, he would have been attracted to her despite her gender. 

As it was, the terror of discovery made the rolling in his stomach so much worse. 

That was before considering the horror he felt when he discovered that at least one child had accidentally gotten the fellonwort mixture. He had never wanted to hurt someone innocent. Only those he thought were being cruel to him. Each moment of the last several days flashed through his mind. Every choice. Each fork in the road that led to this moment. All the thoughts and feelings that prompted and drove him. 

It took every ounce of control to keep the bile down as Detective Unwin’s next words confirmed his fear. “Smart of you to poison yourself. That’s what I did, too, to avoid suspicion.” 

Suddenly light-headed, he couldn’t tell if he was relieved that the detective knew or terrified that she knew. Now what was going to happen? 

[bi-lavelent]

Lone Wolf (Quinn Fabray x fem - reader part 8)

Warning: Fluff, Angst, Bullying, Cussing

I was walking through the hallways in the morning when I saw Karofsky. He was terrorizing all the Glee kids with the slushy he had in his hand. He tried to scare me but I was up too late to care. I was watching him seeing who he was gonna throw the slushy at. When I saw him throw in Finns face. It took me back in time. It was like PTSD of something I didn’t know.

The same thing happened to my boyfriend when people found out I was pregnant. The bullying for my ex-boyfriend got extensively worse. But he wouldn’t let it bother him. So soon enough they realized that the only way for him to suffer was to make me suffer. So the football team stuck me inside a porter potty and had put a hose inside that lead to a bucket off slushy. I was trapped in there until. The game that night at that point the buckets had run out it stopped at my neck. Sue was getting complaints from people saying one of the bathrooms wasn’t working and that the school needed to get it fixed. She didn’t care until a Cheerio told her she came over and un-jammed the door as I fell out. I had been in there so long that I began to got the beginnings stage of hypothermia in most of my body. I got taken to the hospital. That incident changed me as a person I was no longer the happy and innocent. Not that you can be that innocent when you’re pregnant. But I didn’t stick up from myself I was a lot like Kurt. I just went along with the bullying until that day. I turned into this person that I am. I didn’t want that to happen to Quinn. She could be scared like me she doesn't deserve it. She doesn't need to know how bad the world is yet.

back to what was happening I was going to go over and help Finn and Quinn out but it seemed they had it covered.

“what the hell Karofsky?” Finn said

a shoveling math between Finn and Karofsky took place

“Oh I have wanted to do that ever since 5th grade when you made fun of me for getting pubes. Now that you have joined Lullaby Lee’s and insperminateed the queen of the Chasity ball and dropped below us hockey dudes on the food chain it’s open season” Karofsky said

“Screw you, Karofsky. You and your Neanderthal pick-heads are nothing.”Quinn said

“Your gonna pay for this dude!” Finn told Karofsky well grabbing his shirt

“No im not you two don’t have juice anymore welcome to the new world order.” Karofsky said

as he walked away. I went over to Figgins office.

“Hello Y/N how can I help you.” Figgins asked

“Hello sir. How’s your day going?” I asked

“great how about yours?” He asked

“It could be better. How’s the wife?” I asked

“She doing okay but she constantly nagging me.” He said

“You don’t have to explain that to me sir.” I said

“so what do you need Y/N” he asked

“Um can you pull Karofsky out of class for the rest of the day after 4th hour.” I asked

“May I ask for what?” He asked

“He’s one of the kids that I have decided to mentor for college credit hours.” I said

“Well that’s amazing I’ll sign him out and tell him to meet you outside the classroom.” He said

“Great.” I said

I made it the first couple hours of the day. Until 4th period I was waiting outside of Karofsky’s class. Luckily fourth period was my lunch and I never come back anyway so my teachers won’t worry maybe Mr.Schue but this is more important.

“Karofsky. Let’s get this mentoring over with.” I told him as he got out of the class

“I totally agree.” He said

I didn’t realize that as we walked to my car we passed Quinn’s car and they saw us.

Inside the car:

“Hay is that Karofsky and Y/N?” Hope asked

“It can’t be. She wouldn’t hang out with him would she.” Quinn said

“She most definitely wouldn’t let him get close.” Hope said

“Wanky” Santana said

“We should follow them we have nothing better to do.” Quinn said

As I walked karofsky to the car and we both took off. Quinn secretly followed.

“I thought that we could bond in the junkyard that where I spend most of my time and it looks like you’ll enjoy it there.” I said

“Yeah okay that sounds kind of cool.” He said

As we pulled into the junkyard I pulled all the way into the back so that we couldn’t be seen from the road. Quinn parked up front and walked back.

“Do you want to help me find some hubcaps. I’m rebuilding at 1965 bel air. I’m gonna give to my sister when she can drive.” I said

“yeah sure” he said

Two hours 30 minutes later

“How much longer are we gonna need to do this for. It feels like I’m carrying so much. I’m also tired of pepole staring at us as they walk by. They point and they stare and they make comments to each other.” He said

“Oh really you are know? That funny because that’s why I brought you out here. Do you really think that I give a shit about mentor hours. All I have to do is sleep a couple freshman and sophomore’s and I’ll be set. That not why your out here you see that feeling you have yeah that the one that you guys constantly give Glee kids. I’m sure you’ve heard about me haven’t you. All the kids I’ve beaten up. Too bad I’m gonna have to add you to that list.” I said as I swung back and punched him in the face I put my hands up to protect my face as I gave him jab after jab he finally fought back. We fought til I knocked him out. It took longer than I anticipated he put up a fight but there was a reason that I made it to worlds as a freshman. I know how to fight and I know how to win. Once he passed out I threw him on a dolly that was near by and whelled him to the car. Then I threw him on the truck bed and tied him down with ropes I sat there until he became conscious again.

“Hay buddy I’m gonna give you some rules okay otherwise this will happen again. Okay so first leave Finn and Quinn alone or else this will happen again if I even hear you talk about them this will happen again. Leave the Glee club kids alone present and future. If you see you go near any of these people or any of your friends go near of them or harm them in a way your ass will be kicked by a girl again. You and your fucking friends and teammates are the bottom of the food chain and so you will act like it. Do I make myself clear. You are not to go near the Glee kids or the Cheerios there under my protection okay. Also you won’t tell anybody that I beat you up because two fold they think that your lying because how could a scrawnly girl beat up bimbo the clown secondly even if they do believe you you still got beaten up by a girl and that’s humiliating. Now you’re gonna get in the car and I’m gonna drive your fucking ass home.” I said

We both got in the car and I took off. Headed towards his house. I dropped him off and drove off.

Meanwhile in Quinn’s car

“Your sister’s a psychopath.” Quinn said

“Quinn she was protecting you.” Hope said

“She was protecting all of us you heard her the Glee kids and the Cheerios.” Santana said

“Quinn my sister might go extreme sometimes but what do you expect there’s two role models in her life our abusive mother and Sue Sylvester. If she wasn’t Psychotic I’d be considered.” Hope said

“Did anyone else think that she was hot well she did that it or was that just me.” Brittnay asked

“I did” Santana Quietly said

“I did” Quinn also whispered under her breath

“Gross that’s my sister anyway we need to get back in time for Glee.” Hope said

As they all drove off back towards the school. They got there in time it was just all the students.

“Guys you should have see what Y/n did she pretty much tortured Karofsky. About him bullying the Glee club and Quinn and Finn today. She beat the shit out of him tied him to her truck bed and then yelled at him. Then drove him home.” Santana said

“Hot” Puck said

“I thought that you didn’t like each other.” Rachel said

“We don’t she’s mad at me for something.” Puck said

“She’s mad at you because you told Sylvester about Quinn’s pregnancy.” Santana said

“How do you know that ?” Puck asked

“YOU DID WHAT?” Quinn yelled

“Yeah and Y/Ns been trying to make sure that you don’t get kicked off the Cheerios.” Santana said

“For being a stone cold bitch to everyone I guess that she cares about us.” Tina said

“Who cares about you?” Mr.Schue asked

“You You You care about us?” Tina said

“That I do now dose anyone know where Y/N is” Mr.Schue asked

Everyone Said “No”

“Okay then let’s get started.” Mr.Schue said “So you guys seemed to really like the Mash-ups the best things about mash-ups is findings two thing that do really got together.”

“I’m sorry I’m late.” I said as I walked in

“so I’m handing out my personal favorite song and you homework for the week is to find a unexpected mash- up to go with it.”

I felt as everybody started at me and started to whisper maybe it wasn’t about me but why did it feel so much about me. I looked at Santana to see if I missed something but her face was giving me nothing. She wouldn’t even look at me.

“Bust a move ?” Kurt asked “Yeah this song is old school.” Mercedes said

“Artie your on base, Finn” Mr Schue asked

“I got corn syrup in my eye.” Finn said

“Puck” Mr Schue asked

“I’m sorry I don’t really get down with Young MC” Puck said

“Wow I’m surprised by the lack of male power in the room” Rachel said

“don’t worry Rachel I got it” Mr Schue said

This here's a jam for all the fellas Tryin' to do what those ladies tell us Get shot down 'cause you're overzealous Play hard to get, females get jealous Ok, smarty, go to a party Girls are scantily clad and showin' body A chick walks by you wish you could sex her But you're standin' on the wall like you was Poindexter

Next day's function, high class luncheon Food is served and you're stone cold munchin' Music comes on, people start to dance But then you ate so much you nearly split your pants A girl starts walkin', guys start gawkin' Sits down next to you and starts talkin' Says she wanna dance 'cause she likes the groove So come on, fatso, and just bust a move

Ah, ah, yeah Ah, ah, ah, yeah Ah, ah, yeah (just bust a move!) Ah, ah, yeah, ah, ah

You're on a mission and you're wishin' Someone could cure your lonely condition Lookin' for love in all the wrong places No fine girls, just ugly faces From frustration, first inclination Is to become a monk and leave the situation But every dark tunnel has a lighter hope So don't hang yourself with a celibate rope

New movie's showin', so you're goin' Could care less about the five you're blowin' Theatre gets dark just to start the show Then you spot a fine woman sittin' in your row She's dressed in yellow, she says "hello Come sit next to me, you fine fellow!" You run over there without a second to lose And what comes next? hey, bust a move!

If you want it, you got it If you want it, baby, you got it, (just bust a move!) If you want it, you got it If you want it, baby, you got it

In the city, ladies look pretty Guys tell jokes so they can seem witty Tell a funny joke just to get some play Then you try to make a move and she says, "no way" Girls are fakin', goodness sakin' They want a man who brings home the bacon Got no money and you got no car Then you got no woman and there you are

Some girls are sophistic, materialistic Looking for a man makes them opportunistic They're lyin' on the beach perpetratin' a tan So that a brother with money can be their man So on the beach you're strollin', real high-rollin' Everything you have is yours and not stolen A girl runs up with somethin' to prove So don't just stand there, bust a move!

If you want it, you got it If you want it, baby, you got it (just bust a move) If you want it, you got it If you want it, baby, you got it (break it down for me fellas)

Ah, ah Ah, ah Ah, ah Ah, ah Ah, ah, hey, yeah Ooh, uh, hey, yeah! Ooh, uh, hey, yeah! Ooh, uh, uh, uh

Your best friend Harry has a brother Larry In five days from now he's gonna marry He's hopin' you can make it there if you can 'Cause in the ceremony you'll be the best man You say neato, check your libido And roll to the church in your new tuxedo The bride walks down just to start the wedding And there's one more girl you won't be getting So you start thinkin', then you start blinkin' A bride maid looks and thinks that you're winkin' She thinks you're kinda cute so she winks back And now you're feelin really fine 'cause the girl is stacked Reception's jumpin', bass is pumpin' Look at the girl and your heart starts thumpin' Says she wants to dance to a different groove Now you know what to do, G, bust a move!

If you want it, you got it, ah If you want it, baby, you got it (just bust a move), ah If you want it, you got it, ah If you want it, baby, you got it (move it, boy)

Aah, aah, aah, aah Ah, ah, yeah, ah Aah, hey, aah, yeah! Aah, aah, heyy, yeah, yeah!

I stooped Santana in hopes of finding out what happened

“Hay Santana” I asked

“Yeah” she said

“What happened” I asked

“Nothing” she said

I walked out of the Glee room and my sister grabbed me.

“Hey I’ll hurt you” I said

“Stop it’s me are you gonna come home tonight ?” She asked

“Mom kicked me out and by chance she shows up I don’t want to get hurt okay I’m strong but. I can’t fight her okay I love her.” I said

“Why is she made at you.” She asked

“She found out that I was gonna drive her to a rehabilitation center. She got mad and pissed off. I’m still gonna take her hopefully it works this time I promise I’m gonna get our mom back.” I said

“One day you’re gonna have to give up on our parents and realize it’s just you and me.” Hope said

I walked out of the school and got in my car. I drove to the near by hotel that I had been staying in the past few weeks. I just had to change rooms so that I didn’t get squatters rights. It would all be worth it in a few weeks when I get her to the rehab center.

We were all sat in the next glee lesson when Mr.Schue came in. I was sat all alone like I had been for the past few weeks atleast when I was in sues group. Until Brittnay came Santana would sit next to me.

“Has anyone found anything to do with the mash-ups yet” Mr.Schue asked

“No” we all said except for Puck

“I have actually been working on something.” Puck said

“Oh yeah” Mr.Schue said

“It’s my personal tribute to a musical Jewish icon.” Puck said

”Uh fantastic let’s hear it.” Mr.Schue said

Pucks song was clearly a love song for Rachel. Which clearly made Santana really jealous. It also made Finn Jealous which he’s just lucky that Quinn didn’t see. Quinn clearly thought that the song was about her. This drama might be what ends the glee club I thought to myself there is no way that this weird love web doesn't end in disaster.

After glee club ended. I went back to the hotel. Sue came to visit me after Sues corner to help us both figure out how to end the Glee club once and for all. But we would need the football players. But there stupid coaches jealousy was getting in the way. If the football team left our plan for the long game would be destroyed.

“You know you could always fuck him.” I said

“Why don’t you?” Sue said

“You know why I don’t.” I said

“Right you don’t find men hot.” Sue said

“You know you should try being with a woman at least once.” I said

The next Glee club meeting was Thursday we sat for a while waiting to see what the footballers choose. I didn’t really care but I knew that my sister would have been heart broken if Matt chose football over Glee and all I knew is that my heart would break if I saw her heart broken. Also if 2 or none of them come back we can’t do sectionals which would mean that Glee club is over. Which I don’t think anyone was ready for including me.

The next day of school I showed up early and spent the whole day in the office finishing up our evil plan with Sue. Glee club was gonna fall apart with all the dirt I had on everyone. That was until I found out that Sue had kicked Quinn off the Cheerios.

“Sue you broke our promise.” I said

“What else can I do for you ?” She asked

“Get Santana Lopez to sleep with me.” I said “You know that I can’t do that.” She said

“Your right I knew that you couldn’t do that but you have made me your enemy Sue Sylvester will see who destroys Glee club.” I said as I left the room

Later on in Glee club Finn came back and bought us all slushies.

“Oh brain freeze you know it would hit to get hit in the kisser with one of these suckers.” Mr. Schue said

“Mr.Schue have you never been slushied ” Artie asked

“Okay guys we’re all a team” Mr. Schue said

We all through our slushie on him

“Okay well if we’re all in the mood for slushing people who have never been slushied than we should probably hit Y/N” Hope said

“How haven’t you been slushied” Puck asked

“Because people are too terrified that I will tear them apart limb by limb and then send a part to every person in their family in different states.” I said

“Have you done that” Finn asked

“How long ago was 1999” I said sarcastically

“Wait really” Brittnay said

“No” I said laughing well giving Brittnay a tap on the shoulders

[collidescopeeyes]

Time is a Roulette Wheel: Swain WIP Pt2

SFW

Not me spending like an hour in the weeds of the fandom wiki trying to reconstruct a timeline for Noxus. Apparently after Swain killed the previous Grand General and established the Trifarix council he pulled back most of the warhosts but maintained a bunch of coastal territories in Ionia and Shurima, which is roughly when I'm setting this, but also at some point in the future he decides on Ionian Invasion Pt: Back In The Saddle Again re: the awaken cinematic, which apparently isn't even necessarily canon?? Anyway I'm extrapolating a bunch of information about Noxus' current political climate from those two things

----

They give you a nice room in what you take to be a guest wing, and Garret departs again. There are guards outside your door, which you aren't sure if you're to take as a threat or a luxury. You aren't really in the mood for their oppressive hospitality, though, so as soon as the doors close you rewind yourself to the streets outside.

Your latest raven sights you almost immediately. There's lots of them outside the palace–you assume because that's where Swain is. You make it to the block outside the tower before you stop and turn to look at it, exasperated. “Come on then,” you wave it over. It flits down to the fence next to you, cocking it's head at you. “If you're going to be following me around anyway, I'd rather know where you are,” you say, offering it your arm.

It blinks, one eye at a time. “I'll tell you a secret? Something no-one else in Runeterra knows…” you coax. It caws softly. “Alright, you drive a hard bargain. Two.”

The raven steps onto your arm and caws. You grin. “Okay, let's see…hm. When I was six, I stole all of my friends glitter pens and blamed it on a boy who was mean to me. Then I felt bad, so I threatened him into writing an apology note and planted it and the pens back in her bag the next day.”

The raven caws harshly at you. You shrug. “I never said they were ground-breaking secrets.” Nevertheless, the bird settles on your shoulder when you lift your arm up to it, and you set out again.

You walk without any particular purpose, just exploring the City. You were somehow expecting it to be more depressing, but despite the grim and brutality architecture the people are lively and vibrant. It reminds you of Bilgewater, but with less outright crime, honestly. The market hawkers holler offers across the street, beside you a woman argues sharply with a weaver about the cost of a bolt of silk. A vastayan man on a street corner does an elaborate fire-breathing display, and his hat is piled with coin. Nobody apologizes when they knock into you in the busy streets, but not once does anyone try and lift your purse. You eventually find your way to the markets, where you permit yourself to buy a few books and a glass figurine that catches your eye. You usually prefer to travel light, but here's hoping that you'll be staying here for at least a while. You get skewers from a food stall that smells irresistible, and you feed chunks to the raven as you walk back. You suppose that they must be like normal ravens to some extent, because it accepts the food easily enough.

The raven departs with a soft caw as you make your way back to the tower, the sun setting in the distance. You rewind yourself back to your room and read until your dinner is brought.

—

If you were counting your entire stint in the Void as a single incident, meeting the Trifarix is the second most stressful thing that's ever happened to you. It's like a job interview, except you're pretty sure they're going to try and kill you if you don't get the job.

You're led into a cavernous throne room, with the Trifarix seated at a simple stone table at the foot of the empty throne. Swain sits in the center, Darius on his right, and to his left the Faceless in their many layered robe. You sit across from them, feeling distinctly like you should be wearing something nicer. Your guard escorts fall back, and Swain prompts you to recount your offer.

What follows next is the most exhaustive hour of negotiation you've ever been party to. The Faceless asks where you got your powers. You explain that you can't explain, and then go through all of the unpleasantness of proving it by hacking glass up on their table. Darius wants to know what exactly you have to offer Noxus, the limits of your powers, whether you can be sent to the front lines. You tell him you're immortal, and then when he laughs in your face, you say he can behead you and prove it if he's fine waiting a few hours for you to come back. He kind of pauses, then, and either the seriousness in your offer or the shard of mirror glass still sitting on the table seems to convince him, because he's a tad less rude after that.

Swain seems more concerned with the terms of your agreement than your worth to the empire–what your duties will be, for how long, how each party will assure the other that they're fufilling their end of the contract. He doesn't know off the top of his head how to get you home, but he suggests several promising avenues a team of mages and researchers could pursue. The Faceless suggests you work for them until they find a way to send you home, you point out that that motivates them to purposely delay or fail their research to keep you here. You suggest that you work for them for a year regardless of their findings; at the end they either send you home, or you fuck off elsewhere. Swain suggests a ten year term with updates. You point out that if you find out that they're trying to fuck you over, you’ll unmake this entire goddamn city around them. Swain points out, almost idly, that that would disproportionately affect the citizenry, and you don't really have a rebuttal for that, so you relent and amend that fine, you'll just kill all of them, but that's a much less dramatic threat. Darius laughs. The other two do not.

You settle on a three year term.

---

“Garret, be honest with me, are you reporting my every move back to the Trifarix?” You ask wearily, on your way out of the meeting.

Garret blinks. “Not specifically. Of course I'll be honest if asked, but to be frank, ma’am, they have better ways to keep tabs on you.”

You grimace, glancing up at the birds on the rooftops around you. “That's fair. Why were you assigned to me, then?”

“If the need arised, to kill you,” he says evenly.

You raise a brow at him. He doesn't look any more dangerous than your average Noxian, but there must be some reason he was the one assigned to take you out. He looked Ionian–maybe some form of magic that would take you off guard. “Unlucky.”

“So I hear,” he says dryly. He stops in front of your new residence, a two story in a nice looking part of the city, or as nice as Noxus' imperious architecture gets. “This will be your new residence. Someone should have already been by to drop off your citizenship documents. Welcome to Noxus, ma’am.”

“You won't be escorting me anymore, I take it?” You extrapolate. He shakes his head. “Can I ask you a personal question, then?”

He blinks. “Not standing out here in the street, no. You may invite me in for tea, however.” He fishes a set of keys out of his pocket and hands it to you.

You crack a smile, open the door, and then turn to stand inside it. “Could I invite you in for tea, Colonel I don't know your first name Garrett?” You say with your best approximation of an Ionian bow.

“You may, Madam Iso I don't know your last name,” he responds in kind. There's the edge of a smile on his lips, which is as expressive as you've ever seen him.

“I don't actually know if I have tea,” you say as you close the door behind you. “I didn't bring any.”

“I don't drink tea,” he says plainly. He goes to sit at your new couch, politely folding his hands in his lap. “You may ask your question.”

You sit across from him, bemused. “Are all Noxians this abrupt?”

He inclines his head at you, akin to a bird. “We value our time. Was that your question?”

You laugh. “No. I wanted to ask, and you can feel free to tell me to fuck off if it's too personal, but…you're Ionian, right? Why are you here, in Noxus?”

He pauses for a moment. “That is very personal, yes. May I ask why you want to know?”

You pause a moment, mulling over your words. “Because…look, you know what I did in Shuriman. I work for Noxus now, and honestly there isn't a hell of a lot I wouldn't do to get home, but…all the same, I want to know what I'm getting into. What I've done to those people.”

He sighs. “It was…different, for me. My village was poor, and we had little to resist with when Noxus came almost a decade ago, under Darkwill’s rule. It was brutal, and I lost people I cared for in a hopeless attempt at resistance. The army raided our temple for relics, and we were told to bend the knee or die. I bent.” He spreads his hands to indicate to his practical Noxian garb. “I thought our lives would be as senseless and cruel as the army was. For a time it was. Then Grand General Swain deposed Darkwill, and things changed. The world opened to us. My sister pursued an education in history, my son an apprenticeship in smithing. We were recognized for the worth of our craft rather than the blood in our veins. I miss my wife, yes, and my son his mother, but we are fed and content.”

You look down. “Does that make it worth it?”

His lips thin slightly. “The spring does not justify the winter. They are merely things that happen, and we weather them.” You sit in silence for a moment, before he offers “Grand General Swain is just, as far as I have seen. He has inherited his predecessors' wars, but there is a purpose there where Darkwill only had tyranny and madness. He is not war-like by nature, I believe, but securing Noxus' future relies on stabilizing the borders of our acquired territories.”

“So that makes the brutal expansionism justified?” You ask dryly.

He shrugs. “Justification is the tool of a dishonest conscience. I know who I am and what is valuable to me, and I know what I must do to have it. So do you. That is why you are Noxian now. The citizens of Bitharix will have a choice to make, whether they value their lives or their ideals, and then they will either be dead or they will be the same as any other Noxian. I can tell you that the Trifarix cares for the wellbeing of Noxus. I cannot tell you if Noxus' wellbeing is more valuable than that of Shurima’s, but here is where I live, here is where I thrive, and so here is where I will serve. Whether the same can be said of you is your own decision to make.” With that, he rises to his feet and offers you a bow. “I will be going now.”

You nod. “Thank you, for your assistance, and for your advice.”

He nods. “Whatever path you choose to walk, I hope that you walk it with surety.” And then he turns and leaves.

You sit in silence in your new Noxian house for a few minutes. Then you abruptly decide this situation calls for ice cream and hop to your feet.

—

“Birdie, do you know if this place has ice cream?” You ask the raven that flies down to the fence next to you. It caws harshly, and you get the sense it's offended. “Oh, come on. I'll tell you a real secret this time if you bring me somewhere nice,” you offer enticingly. It caws again, this time somewhat uncertain. “C'mon, it's riiight on the tip of my tongue, can't you just taste it?” you taunt.

The raven stares at you so intensely you think it might actually be able to, and then hops onto your shoulder and caws in the direction of the markets. You beam and set off.

—

“God, I really needed this,” you tell the bird appreciatively as you devour your chocolate chip cone. “I know you're a demonic entity whose reporting my every move to Swain, since I'm under contract now, here's a secret for free: that man stresses me the fuck out.” The bird caws in what you take to be agreement. “I know, right? It's the resting bitch face, I think. It makes me feel like I've forgotten my homework or something.” You shudder.

As you finish your cone, the bird caws at you impatiently. “Alright, you did good, I guess you earned it,” you relent with a sigh. It hops onto your knee and peers up at you intently. The words rise to your tongue unbidden. “The thing that took me had a name, but I haven't been able to remember what it is since I killed it. I try, and it's just…white noise, like blood in my ears. I don't even know why I knew it's name, it's not like it ever told me,” you say forlornly. Then you blink. “Wait. I shouldn't have been able to say that. How did you–”

The raven crows triumphantly, and then pain beyond anything your curse has ever given you rips through you.

—

You wake up on a plush couch. You sit up groggily, only to realize you have no idea where you are.

“You weren't lying about your immortality, it seems,” Swain observes mildly. He's at a large desk, writing something. You're in his office, it seems.

You rub your throat. “What happened?”

“Raum suppressed your curse long enough to draw out a secret, and you paid the price for speaking where you shouldn't.” Swain says. He signs the page at the bottom, puts his quill in his inkwell, and then steeples his hands and looks at you. His expression is neutral, but there's an intent glint in his eye you aren't sure what to make of. “You were found with about a dozen shards of glass protruding from your throat. You have been dead for…” he glances at his desk clock. “Approximately one hour and twelve minutes.”

You blink. “That was quick. Usually takes longer here.” You look down at the couch you're on, which is covered in what is most likely your blood. You rewind it clean with a grimace. “Why bring me here?”

“For one, to verify your claims of purported immortality. For another, we need to discuss your duties. I had intended to give you some time to settle in, but given the circumstances it seems best to be expeditious. Do you need anything, before we continue?”

You frown. Your mouth tastes like blood. “Water would be good.”

He produces a pitcher and some glasses from a side table hidden from your view by one of his enormous stacks of paper, and gestures for you to sit across as he pours. “What do you know of Raum?”

You settle yourself across from him and drink. It tastes faintly of lemon. “Demon who eats secrets. I know generally what you can do with his powers, but I don't have the specifics of how you control them.”

He nods. “I see. Suffice to say, Raum becomes more difficult to control if I overuse his power, or if he's…overfed, shall we say.” He gives you a pointed look. You wince. “I purposefully let him loose to see if you could contain him unassisted. Not only did you accomplish that, but your intervention significantly weakened his bids for control. As such, part of your duties for your time with Noxus will be assisting me with Raum’s ongoing containment, starting now.”

You blink. “Now?”

“Now,” he repeats, unimpressed. “May I remind you that you fed him a secret capable of leveling a kingdom so that you could find the best ice cream parlor in Noxus, and now I am paying the price.” His voice is so dry it rivals the Shuriman dunes.

You wince slightly. “Yeah, that's fair. Give me your hand.”

He blinks. You hold your hand out towards him and wiggle your fingers expectantly. His lips thin slightly, but he complies. The leather of his gloves is warm, and you can feel the shape of his past beneath it, but… “Something's not right,” you mutter, opening your eyes. “Other hand.”

“Pardon?” He says.

You furrow your brows. “Give me your other hand.”

“This wasn't necessary last time,” he points out warily.

“Last time, I was being actively fried with demonic energy, which gave me a physical connection to Raum’s timeline,” you point out. “Now, I'm pretty sure there was a term in my contract that says you're not allowed to eldritch blast me just because you really want to, so I suppose you're just going to have to give me your hand.”

He lifts his hand from where it lies hidden under his coat, and if it were a word you thought could be physically applied to Swain, you'd say he seemed hesitant. Alas, it's not, so you go with wary instead. It casts a soft red glow across your skin, and when he finally places his palm in yours, it has the oddest sensation of electricity–a current that's just strong enough to hum under your skin, but not to hurt. Other than that, it feels like a normal hand, though admittedly one with long curling claws and feathers at the elbow.

“Satisfied?” He asks dryly.

“Yes,” you agree easily. You shut your eyes and begin to work–it’s strangely difficult, like every inch you wind Raum back he tries to regain. “This will take some time. He's not happy about it.”

“Hm.” He hums in response. “Tell me something. Why Bitharix?”

You blink at him. “It was in an important strategic location to connect trade from the coastal cities, and a sustained seige would cost too many resources, leave your forces too exposed for too long. Plus, I figured altering the geography of an entire city would be the fastest way of getting my point across.”

“Why not Port Alkaline?” He counters. “It was closer to Tereshni. It's an important coastal stronghold with strong walls.”

You furrow your brows. “I figured you were planning to blow their wall up and then just build it back. It's not nearly as thick, and you had more stone shipped in than you'd need for the those big ominous arches you like to build.”

“And do you know why we build the arches?” He pushes.

You frown. “It’s an ever present reminder of Noxus' presence, and their resources, as well as a defensible structure? Why are you…” you pause, narrowing your eyes at him. “Are you quizzing me?”

“Hm,” he hums noncommittally. “You mentioned you could restore the walls, and the Bitharix ravine.”

You nod. “Sooner would be better. Longer something is the way it is, the more it wants to stick. Won't take me long, though, I can go back to anywhere I've been before without much effort. Same goes for Alkaline, if you do end up blowing their wall.” You pause, listening. “...can you hear that whispering?” You ask.

“Constantly,” he agrees. “Best to ignore it.”

You frown. “Can you tell him to shut the fuck up?”

“I truly wish so, but no,” he sighs.

You open your eyes and squint down at his feathered hand. “Hm. Maybe if I…” and here, you slow the rhythm of Raum’s existence to a crawl, until there's quiet in your mind. Swain looks at you in what might be surprise, but doesn't comment. You sit in blessed silence for the few more minutes it takes to claw Raum back to what feels like a reasonable equilibrium. “Hm. Is that better?”

He removes his hand from yours, flexes it experimentally, then nods. “Yes. You're dismissed. I’ll send for you when I have need,” he returns to his work.

You stand, apparently dismissed.

“Oh, and Iso?” He calls as you turn to leave. “If you have any more pressing questions about local cuisine, please refrain from making bargains with my birds.”

You consider him. “...in that case, do you know where I can find a good seafood mornay? I've got a craving for fish.”

He gives you an unimpressed look. You're fully expecting to be ignored, but apparently he decides answering you is the fastest way to get you out of his office. “Sailmaker’s Bounty, on the east side. Now begone.”

“Thanks, boss!” You chirp with a grin before you close the door.

[soaps-hoe-141]

Back Together

Part 29

Pairing: Soap x Ghost

WC: 3.4k

Synopsis: Soap sees himself for the first time, it isn't what he expected

Warnings: Don't think so

Christ he was getting tired of these white walls and laying around on his ass like some kind of freeloader. Even the company of the team was beginning to get dull to his hyperactive mind, especially when Laswell had to go back to the States for who knows what. Watcher had gotten pulled off the team for a few days to fix the technical glitch with the drones that had put him in danger to begin with, according to the young man. Though when he'd said, "I've gotta go clean up someone else's mess before it actually gets someone killed next time," Soap gathered that it was his idea to put himself on the drones' case, not command's. The rest of the team had been sticking around, lazing about except for when nurse Allbright was around. The strict nurse had caught wind of the smoking incident and every time she was supposed to be there Price would disappear with his duffel bag for a while to avoid being yelled at by the surprisingly scary woman.

It wasn't until she showed up a couple hours early one day that she caught the Captain metaphorically with his pants down. Price was dozing on the bench by the door when the hinges creaked open beside him, Soap looking up from where he had been watching Ghost working on a Rubik's cube that Konig had showed up with this morning. A small distraction for the both of them. And even though he couldn't work the cube with his own hands right now he was enjoying watching Ghost in all his frustration trying to get the colors to match.

Allbright stopped in the doorway, glancing at all the men in turn until her eyes landed on the motionless Price who was employing some kind of 'If I don't move she won't see me' tactic as if the woman was a damn t-rex or something. She did in fact see him, he was the first one she saw actually even though she had looked at all the others before settling her attention on the brunette. Soap watched curiously as she moved around to his front making sure there was no one else he could look at besides her. Not that your eyes could ever look anywhere besides her when her temper was flared and she was giving you a nice long lecture about safety and hospital protocols.

Still he didn't move, not until her hands found her hips and she set an even glare on him, "Captain how is it that you are probably the worst influence on my patients when there are quite literally two cases in this very room whom a team of psychologists couldn’t hope to unravel?" He turned an even look up to her face, eyes traveling slowly until they landed on her chocolate brown eyes. "Yes Captain Price I'm talking to you," her lips pursed as she watched him give a small smile in an attempt to calm her obvious frustration.

Finally his deep voice answered, dripping with a charm it seemed none of them knew he possessed, "I don't know what you're talking about, love."

She held up a finger at him, a quick look of annoyance flashing over her already frustrated face, "No. Don't call me that Captain, I'm either Nurse Allbright or Major Allbright, not your bloody love." She huffed out at him and then glanced at the duffle bags against the wall. Her quick glance had turned into a narrow eyed stare as she asked, "If I look in your duffle bag right now Captain am I gonna come across contraband that would warrant your removal from the hospital?"

Price stayed silent for a couple tense seconds that prompted her to turn to look at him again, "No, Major Allbright, not at all."

He lied easily but there wasn't a single shred of belief in her eyes as she moved towards the wall of duffles anyway, despite his loud protests. Price moved quickly which prompted smirks from the rest of the team who were all too interested in how the man was going to handle this to interrupt their Captain’s scolding. "Move Captain, I can't have you burning down the hospital because you can't be bothered to walk down to the smoking area that the hospital specifically provides for your kind."

The brunette was beginning to falter as he said, "Come on Major, there's no need to cause a fuss. I'm just trying to keep my Sergeant some company right now cause the poor man's bored out of his mind." He gestured with a hand to Soap, a hard look finding the Scotsman over the woman's shoulder that said help him or suffer the consequences of betrayal later.

Soap cleared his throat then and nodded, "Aye lass he's just keeping us all company. Say, would you mind looking at this here, it started hurting last night?" That caught her attention, dragging her eyes away from the Captain and then around to the Sergeant laying in bed. She cast one glance behind her as Price grabbed his duffle and made his escape. Soap gave her a half smile when her eyes landed on him once more, the frustration turning on him, "Sorry bout that Major, cannae have you biting the Captain’s head off. I've got to have him to help me get cleared with medical later on."

Allbright shook her head and despite herself a smile found her lips, "Just between us," she paused to glance at the others still in the room as well, "I wasn't going to have him removed either way. I don't blame you, I'd hate being stuck in here too." She gave a light chuckle of amusement as she moved beside the bed, "How are you feeling today though? No panic attacks in quite some time, your wounds are healing nicely. You feel good?"

Soap gave her a slow nod, "Aye I do actually. I'd like to move around though, I'm not the biggest fan of bedrest ma'am. Makes me ache more than a thirty kilometer run, and I can say that with full certainty."

The nurse nodded her understanding and gave him a pleasant smile, "I've got good news for you then. Today, you're gonna be showering all by yourself. The doctor said the wounds in your hands were closed enough now that you're cleared to submerge them in water. And since the staples are out of your leg and shoulder you are cleared for full range of motion as well, not just those stupid stretches you have to do laying down in bed." Soap was sitting up now, excited at the prospect of finally cleaning himself rather than letting Allbright dab away at his skin with that nasty feeling sponge he despised. Before his excitement shut his mind off to the rest of her words though, she added, "But no overdoing it, small things first. We can build you back up to the heavy lifting ok?" Allbright waited for his understanding nod before she turned to glance at the others in the room then, "I'm gonna stand him up so unless the lot of you want to see your friend's arse I suggest you take a walk."

Gaz and Konig quickly stood and nodded, stopping at the door when they noticed Ghost hadn't moved. Instead the big man was leaning forward in his chair, a questioning look in his eyes at the Scotsman. The ever present guard dog waiting to see what his injured master would order him to do. When Soap gave a minute nod of his head the big man finally stood, following the other two out to the hall, albeit reluctantly. Allbright gave the Sergeant a reassuring smile as she pulled the sheets down. She backed up then, “Alright Sergeant, I’ll let you do it by yourself but if you need to take a break there will be a chair in the shower for you so suck it up.”

Soap nodded and sat up, feet finding the floor as he tested the leg that had served as a dog’s chew toy. It took him a few minutes to limp his way to the bathroom but eventually he made it, leaning against the wall for a quick moment to take a breather. She laid another hospital gown down on the sink along with a towel on the towel rack as he stepped into the shower, “I’ve got it from here lass.” The door shut behind her and he braced against the chair as he sat himself down. The gown slid down over his shoulders, the tie loosening around his back as he threw it outside the bounds of the shower and leaned back. He stared down at the newest scars on his body, some still scabbed over while others were raised on his skin; the nerves on the first layers still numb when he ran his fingers across them, he doubted he would ever feel those patches of skin again.

Bandages off and thrown away in the new trash can he looked at what would be the worst scars on his skin soon. The mangled leg that doctors had pieced back together, the holes in his hands that still ached whenever he saw or moved them, and his shoulder which he couldn't even see but knew had been torn apart whenever it hurt just to shrug or lay back. When he reached around to turn the water on he flinched forward for a moment when the pressure drove into the wound, forcing himself to remain still as he got used to the feeling. It took a second for him to relax into it, taking a deep breath before he reached for the soap, lathering it over the scars with cautious hands. He knew he would have to go to rehab for…well everything. Allbright had already made that clear, and a psychologist as well whenever he made it out of here. Especially if he ever wanted to be cleared to operate again and to be quite honest he wasn't sure he could ever do anything else, this was literally all he knew now. Sure all he currently remembered was the worst of it but he couldn't see himself doing anything else even despite the current issues with his psyche.

His fingers still did not close around anything completely unless he was in the middle of a panic attack with adrenaline coursing through his veins so he was struggling to hold the slippery bar of soap in his hands but he finally got into a rhythm. By the time he reached back to shut the water off his hands were aching from the use, but he found he welcomed it, they would get better and he would get used to the feeling that he knew. All of his muscles were tensed throughout his body from stretching down to clean his feet, his thigh and calf having screamed at him to stop even though he didn’t listen. Soap grabbed the towel as he stepped out, bracing himself against the wall with a wince. He dried himself off and limped for the sink, hands bracing painfully against the cold corners while he steadied himself.

It wasn’t until he looked up, blue eyes staring at an unfamiliar reflection for the first time since he got back, that he actually let himself feel any kind of pain. Dark brows furrowed and the reaction felt alien, fingers reaching up and running across the scars there, both new and old. He didn’t feel his racing heart in his chest nor the panic inching its way in at the stranger staring back at him, but he did see the face going pale, the sweat beading up across his brow. “Fuckin hell,” he muttered when he touched the long jagged scar that ran through his brow and down his cheek, probably from one of the times they hit him with the pipe. The lightheaded feeling finally clued him in to what was happening, to the attack that he was threatening to spill over the precipice of. “No, fuck you, you stupid fucker we are not doing this shite again. Keep it together, keep it together,” he closed his eyes against the reflection staring back at him shaking his head against the unstoppable tidal wave that wanted to consume and drown him.

How does a person not even recognize their own reflection? Is it possible to look at oneself and feel like it didn't match? That you didn't belong in that skin? It had to be possible cause that was what he felt as his fingers began to tighten on the corners of the sink, body rocking forward into it. Pain was lancing through him, a shallow attempt to ground his racing mind. He was an impostor in his own body, merely taking another man's memories and piecing them together to get the story of his life. They were not his memories, they were not his story, they were not him and the realization made his heart ache even more than every injury he was still nursing. His head was under the incoming wave, a single hand reaching out was his last hope at being saved.

A steady, calm force finally wrapped around his fingers, jerking him up from the rising tide and trying to pull him out. “Soap? Allbright said you sounded upset, what’s wrong?” The Scotsman felt his fingers release from the counter, taking a breath in and holding it for a few seconds before letting it out slowly. He was ok, just don't look in the mirror, don't look at the eyes of the dead man staring back. It was ok, he would be ok.

“I look like a well skelped erse,” his voice sounded strained, high enough in pitch it gave away his distress and the tension even as it rose more. His throat felt tight around the lump in his throat, mind still wanting to break down and release all those feelings despite the Scotsman who was refusing to allow it, desperately suffocating the urge to bawl like a child in the corner again. Not again, he refused to do that again, he was better than that.

There was a quiet moment before Ghost rumbled out, “English MacTavish.”

His head shook as he lifted his hand to his face, rubbing against his forehead as he tried to ground himself again, another memory flooding in from Las Almas that made him want to scream. Stop telling him everything about that man, he never should have gotten the first memories back, why would his mind do this? Create two beings that could never coexist with one another because the other was lying dead on a concrete floor a thousand miles away. “Man I’m fuckin ugly, and not even a word from a one of ya to tell me. I look like someone tried to skin a fuckin deer on me face.” Even despite his distress he was still trying to make light of the situation, the other man, the memories of his old self, telling him that was the proper thing to do, that it was expected of him. That if he could just make himself and the other person laugh he would be ok, that was a lie.

There was a quiet huff from the other side before Ghost answered, “You’re not ugly Soap. They’ll heal, and no one on the team cares what your face looks like.”

“But I do, Ghost! I dinnae even remember myself, thought I was looking through a fuckin window for a second. I cannae show my face out there if I cannae even look at myself!” He was spiraling, he knew he was spiraling and it didn’t even matter, how could he stop this feeling of not being right, of being in the wrong body? It was hell. “Fuckin hell!” His volume jumped as he fought the war inside him to keep his cool, to not lose himself again when all his brain seemed to be able to do was pull him further down into the dark depths.

The calm voice returned through the wood, the strong hand holding him above the water refusing to let go, “Soap you are not ugly. You will be fine.” There was a pause before he finally seemed to consider something and said, "I'll be right back. I promise." The other side of the door went silent, and he shuffled back to sit on the closed toilet, towel wrapped around his waist while fingers ran through short locks of hair that didn't even feel like his own. Soap could feel himself sinking, the life preserver Ghost had given him didn't stand a chance against the incoming tsunami of thoughts that were trying to flood his every sense. Trying to take this new man and thrash him against the rocks until he was beaten and bloody and without a limb left to keep his head above the water.

As he dipped below the surface again, one hand still clinging painfully to a life preserver that seemed hell bent on sinking with him, the door beside him creaked on its hinges, pushing open before someone stepped inside. His hands were on his face, covering it from the sight of the other man. There was a tightening in his chest as he leaned away from the person, seeing them squat in his peripheral vision until they came into his field of view. The familiar skull mask looked up at him, hazel eyes catching his attention before Soap slipped his face further behind his palms. "It's ok, Soap. Here," he held out some black fabric in his gloved hands, the Scotsman staring at it for a few moments. Without thought he reached for it, taking the smooth fabric between his fingers and holding it there for a moment, studying it. Before he could do anything with it, Ghost spoke again, "It's yours."

There was a painful lump sitting in his throat now that not even swallowing could dissipate. Soap couldn't get his fingers to respond again though, trying to grab at the hem of the mask unsuccessfully. Ghost watched and he swore he saw pain in those eyes, shame even, like the man believed this to be his fault or something. It wasn't, the Scotsman knew that much at least, he'd gotten to this point due to his own inadequacies, he didn't need anyone's help to be an idiot. Finally, he whispered shamefully, looking away, "I can't do it. They won't work unless I'm trying to fuckin kill someone." He glared down at his unresponsive digits, wishing he could replace them like his mind was trying to replace the man he'd once been.

The big man squatting before him didn't miss a beat though, he grabbed the mask, spread it at the hem, and slid it over his head in a single, swift movement. Ghost didn't even touch him to do it, mindful of his sensitivities at all times it seemed. What he had done to deserve a friend like this he doubted he would ever know, and that was meant quite literally.

The fabric on his face felt foreign against his skin, but as he took a deep breath in he inhaled the strong smell that always accompanied the Lieutenant. Pine flooded his nose, muscles relaxing nearly immediately at the smell, almost as if he'd enjoyed that smell many times before. He probably had seeing as he was in such close proximity to the big man all the time. It took a couple seconds for him to regain his thought processes, blinking to clear his foggy vision as Ghost pulled him onto the life raft finally and out of the tsunami's path. "Tapadh leat mo chridhe," he didn't expect the man to nod at him, feeling a bit of panic that he might have understood what he had said for a moment.

The Lieutenant immediately put that thought to rest though when he said, "You've really gotta work on your English, Soap. I don't know what the bloody hell you're saying." Soap gave him a half smile, a little huff of amusement leaving him before he watched Ghost stand up nodding at the gown on the counter, "You need to get some clothes on. Allbright still has to put fresh bandages on you before she can leave."

Blue eyes flicked down to the gown before he nodded, "Oh yeah, I'll be out in a second Lieutenant. Thank you though, for the mask. It…It means a lot." Ghost gave him a quiet nod and shut the door, leaving Soap to finish changing with thoughts dancing around his mind that had no business being there to begin with.

[arvandus]

Ramble about Gojo x F!Reader ficccc (it’s happening!)

Alrighty, I finally have some time to myself to really dig into this.  Sorry if it’s long, I just... I need this here.  For... reference.

Before I start, manga spoilers abound, DO NOT TREAD HERE if you don’t want to be spoiled.  Also, ironically, I am notoriously behind on the manga (honestly can’t remember where I left off...), so don’t expect accuracy.

ANYWAY.  Let’s get started.

Reader is Nanami’s wife, who’s kept secret from the Jujutsu society.  Reader doesn’t know about curses and sorcerers, and they don’t know about her. Nanami went through a lot of effort to keep it that way.  The only one who does know is Gojo, who reader has met here and there sporadically during her time with Nanami.

Angsty start: Reader is pregnant with their first child when Nanami dies during the Shibuya Incident.  What’s worse, is that because Gojo was the only one who knew of her, and he gets locked away, Reader has no idea what happened to her husband.  One day he just.... doesn’t come home from work. No matter how hard she tries, she can’t find him.  She calls hospitals, the police, his work... who oddly states that he hasn’t been an employee there for some time... she even called Gojo, a contact that Nanami emphasized was only for the most dire of emergencies. But he’s not answering his phone either (since, y’know, he’s sealed and all that...)

It completely throws her world upside down.  She hears nothing, can find absolutely nothing.  He’s just... gone.

Imagine her shock when Gojo shows up on her doorstep 20 days later.  He looks... different, from when she saw him last, even though it’d only been a few weeks ago.

Gojo is the one to tell her that Nanami is dead. He makes up a well-practiced lie, concocted with Nanami in case this exact situation ever happened.  He tells her that Nanami had actually worked for the government and had gotten killed on a secret mission.  It was enough to explain away all the strangeness she noticed before; the nights he’d come home late, sometimes with small injuries, the ‘business trips’ he had to take from time to time, etc.

She’s utterly heartbroken, devastated, angry.  In her woundedness, she blames Gojo for not protecting her husband and essentially kicks him out, telling him she never wants to see him again. He obliges, and tells her to call him if she ever needs him.  But of course... he’s never entirely gone, not really.  He keeps an eye on her in secret, ensuring she’s always safe.  Nanami had been very meticulous in ensuring she’d be provided for if anything were to happen to him, and Gojo had been a part of that agreement.

Gojo keeps his distance well enough to not be seen by her, but he keeps an eye on her, checking in on her periodically...

Still working out some plot stuff, but some things I know for sure: Nanami’s child is going to have jujutsu powers, and when they finally manifest, it’s going to pull reader and her child into the Jujutsu world.  And Gojo is going to HATE it because it’s going to put them in danger when he’d sworn to Nanami he’d protect them.  Also, the child will have something “special” about them that will make them a target (thus upping the stakes and tying into a greater plot besides Reader and Gojo).  Of course, during this time, Reader and Gojo are going to have to learn to put their history aside and work together, and through that, are going to grow closer and closer, where feelings are going to naturally develop (and yes there will of course be steamy scenes).

Things to decide on: Does reader not contact him at ALL until the child’s power manifests?  Or does she contact him before that, during some key life events (e.g., going into labor and giving birth to her and Nanami’s child, maybe a situation where the child is lost at a park or a mall, etc.)?  If she does call on him, does he keep coming back or does he vanish again, popping in and out of their lives only when he’s most needed?  If he lingers, they’d likely start to get closer to each other, and Reader might start to develop feelings.  Driven by guilt, she’d push him away again, and cut off communication with him.  So when he finally shows up to help her with her child’s manifested abilities, there will already be a wealth of history between them. OR just have it be 0 contact and let feelings develop once she’s inside the JJK world. Hmm, choices...

Y’all, there’s gonna be so much angst, drama, and sexual tension, LET ME TELL YOU.

[ambrosiasaladofthebrain]

Ambrosia Salad of The Brain

Ch 1: Meet Jake

The teacher’s note read like it usually did: “Nice Job” written under a circled 100% and a smiley face creating a small triangle of pen ink. Jake knew it was childish, it was because he was far younger than all of his classmates that his math teacher always left small notes of encouragement and excitement on his tests, but he supposed he didn’t care. He still cut each one out carefully before throwing out the test and placing the scrap onto the growing pile in the box he kept under his bed.

 He would show his sister the pile someday and she would be impressed with how well he had done. That day would probably be soon, hopefully soon. For now he would stack them until the box burst. With the ringing of the bell the school day came to a close and he scrambled to collect his things and leave before the mass of bigger students could trample him.

He was quick to make it to the front steps, wanting to double check his items before he left. Someone had stolen his first aid kit but he still had his second one which was good enough. There was a father a couple blocks from school who had started robbing from the richer district people who came to feel better about themselves and show off. These people often had bodyguards with some pent up emotions they needed to release. Jake couldn’t stop the man from doing what he could for his kid but he could apply his basic knowledge of first aid. He might be an amateur but where he lacked in practice he hoped his mind and memory made up for it. He supposed living in a hospital and watching professionals daily had to have upgraded his skills somewhat. 

He also needed the bread he had saved from lunch, a pack of rats had taken root in an alleyway he had to pass to get to the hospital and their attacks on random passerbyers were getting worse, as long as he threw them a good chunk of food however, they seemed to leave him alone. Simon had tried to protest Jake’s sharing of half his lunch with rats but he understood that certain measures had to be taken, and not a week later after the incident he had started carrying bread for a gang of rats on his block as well.

With his rusted swiss army knife prepared he was ready to walk home. He just needed to check in with Simon and Piet who were unusually late. They were usually at their meeting spot first, skipping their class to share a smoke, or, he thought they still smoked, they promised they had quit but they still carried packs and lighters and the smell never left their fingers and breath, nor their sweaters he needed to return.

“Hey kid!” Simon called as he left the building and hopped down the steps, tripping on a hole, and stringing a colorful display of words together as he stumbled to a stop. “‘Hey! Hey,” he corrected his volume with the second ‘hey’, looking apologetic, “Guess wha’ we got.”

“We?” Jake looked around, expecting to see Simon’s ‘better half’.

“Yeah, uh.” Simon looked around, before swearing again, “I lost her. No! The love of my life! Gone! Sorry, gone,” he corrected his volume again, really trying not to be so aggressively loud. “I’ll nev’a see ‘er again. Lost, to the chaos of the school, or maybe the lunch lady,” he shrugged, flopping down on the school steps, “Beauty like that will surely be missed, I’ll nev’a love anoth’a,” he clenched a fist to his chest, suddenly being tackled from behind

“That’s right you won't! But maybe I will! Leave your girlfriend to the demise a the lunch lady? She works out y’know. Too buff even fer me an’ you leave me! Ah Jake, ‘ey kiddo. how’d’yer test go?” Piet sobered down sitting on Simon’s back, pinning him to the ground as she reached for the 100% paper Jake handed her. “‘Ey, nice job, though I wasn’t all that worried, the one about explainin’ how ya did the work kept trippin’ ya up when we studied but ya’always pull through.”

“Thank you,” Jake blushed.

“I nev’a doubted ya either,” Simon added.

“Ah shut up,” Peit smacked his head lightly, “Anyway you got the goods?” 

“Duh,” Simon rolled his eyes, pushing Peit off and pulling a small cardboard box from his cardigan pocket. “Here ya are mister smarty pants.” He ceremoniously tossed the box to Jake who fumbled with it a moment before catching it properly and giving it a suspicious glance. 

“You didn’t,” He mumbled, cracking it open. “How? Where? The school doesn’t have a-”

“Eh I found some chips lyin’ ‘round an’, well, Peit has some chickens so we jus’ needed a stove ‘n a few other things,” Simon shrugged, Peit shrugging with him. 

Jake picked up the two chocolate chip cookies from the box, they were sloppy and a little flat, nothing like the images he had seen online but the last time he had had chocolate chip cookies had been with Zoey. He wondered if he could save one and find some milk but quickly shook the idea from his head remembering the growing prices.

“Thank you,” he whispered into the cookies, almost too quiet as he tried to stop the prickling of his eyes.

Piet let out a soft swear, raising a hand; “‘Ey don’t cry now, we were bored.”

“Yeah, it really wasn’ that hard even!” Simon added. 

“Or expensive, I mean, we stole most’a the stuff.”

“Sh!” Simon elbowed her, “No, we bought it, promise, promise,” He lied.

“Thank you,” Jake whispered again, breaking one of the cookies in half, then breaking that into two quarters, “Here.”

“We couldn’-” Piet began.

“Really?” Simon asked, “You sure?” He grabbed a quarter with excitement. Piet looked disgusted at him for a moment before taking her piece. The treat was dry and somewhat burnt yet uncooked all at once. It was very sweet, which was better than bitter Jake supposed, it would definitely benefit from a glass of milk though.

“Oh wow,” Piet coughed.

“You, don’ ‘ave to eat that Jake,” Simon grimaced, “I can throw that out.”

“No!” Jake held the small box close, glaring, “No, I’ll keep it, they’re not half bad.”

Simon’s watch on his outstretched hand buzzed, “I gotta get to work, you’ll be ok by yourself?”

“I walk every day by myself.”

“Doesn’ mean I can’t be worried.”

“You got your stuff?” Piet interrogated, “Books, pepper spray, pocket knife?”

Jake shuffled through his bag then pockets making a show of making sure it was all in place and hadn’t been stolen throughout the day despite having just done these actions moments ago, “Yep.”

“Alright. Get home safe bud,” She waved bye dragging Simon along with her.

Simon was still calling out to Jake; “I’ll be at the gate in the mornin’, and make sure to watch out for those rats, oh and cases of,” as they rounded the corner his calls disappeared with them. Jake giggled at them as he took another bite of his cookie and started his own walk. His first stop would be the rats and he needed to come up with good names for them.

He was still thinking of names for the rats when he left their alleyway. Rats are terribly smart creatures and Jake had always felt akin to them in some odd way. He was close to his next stop now, which meant he should get his swiss army knife ready. The Robber Father would never harm him but this wasn’t always his haunt, it was a very popular place for muggings to occur either way. However, while most let him by some people had become very desperate with the rising prices and crack down on crimes the President himself had initiated to help clean up the district.

Jake slowed, nearing the alley and peaking in. At first he didn’t see anyone but someone shifted in the pile of trash bags and Jake entered recognizing it as Robber Father. He squatted next to the man poking his arm with the dull knife. 

“Sir?”

The man groaned, sounding in pain, Jake scrunched his face looking for injuries. When he couldn’t outright see any stab wounds or broken bones Jake slapped the man's cheek, trying to wake him.

“Sir?” he called a bit louder.

This scene was reminding him a little too much of when he had found his sister. She had been warm, Jake felt the man’s forehead but his temperature felt normal enough. She had also coughed a lot as well as had a scratchy breath that seemed to tug at her throat, trying to stick to the sides. Jake brought his ear to the man’s mouth. His breath was soft if not slow.

“Siiiiirrrr!” Jake drew out his call, slapping the man's face repetitively.

“Wha? Who’s ther?” The man slew out, sitting up and focusing on Jake, “Oh, hey Doc, ‘ere for my checkup?” He rumbled as he sat up.

“What happened?” Jake asked, wanting to get to the point.

“Eh, this rich prick came into town lookin’ for trouble, I beat ‘em up but he got a couple hits to my stomach. Nother one’a those hit where it can’t be seen’ things, ya’know?” He lifted his shirt to show off the patchwork of bruising, “Could’a done better but I forgot to eat today.” He chuckled, Jake didn’t join him, rolling his eyes at the obvious lie. He pulled his gift box with the last half-a-cookie from his bag and handed it to the man before he could change his mind.

“Eh? Wha’s this?” Robber Father took it with a quizzical look, and gave a soft oh upon opening it, “A cookie? In this economy? Pretty impressive kid, you're basically the richest kid I’ve met now,” He went to hand the box back only for Jake to shove it back to him.

“You can have it, my frie-” Jake bit his tongue on the slip up, “Simon and Piet gave them to me, I already ate one, you have the rest.”

“The, ones who babysit ya at school?” Jake nodded. “They rich or somethin’?” “Nah, just stupid.”

Robber Father huffed a laugh, “Teenagers. My Rose ‘s turnin’ 14 soon y'know, you wanna come to the party?”

Was that a joke? When most kids invited him to a party it was usually to laugh moments later. Also people usually brought gifts to birthday parties and he had no money or anything to give.

“You don’t have to bring anythin’ kid, your, like, six-”

“I’m 8 (timephrame),” Jake informed, then realizing he’d interrupted quickly added a “Sorry!

“Point is, you wouldn’t need’ta bring anythin’, it’s next week, at that one park near the gas station with slushies, I can tell ya more details later if ya want?”

Jake nodded before looking at his watch, he needed to continue walking if he wanted to make it for the cafeteria’s dinner. He quickly waved goodbye and headed back out of the alley, pocketing his knife.

By the time he made it to the hospital the cafeteria was bustling. Jake quickly grabbed his food, it was watery soup and bread today, before leaving the loud area.

Jake balanced his meal tray in one hand to knock on Zoey’s door. After a beat of silence he opened the door.

“Hey Z! I’m back from school, I still needa check in with Joy but I said hi to a couple other people on my way here so she probably already knows. She’s been real strict ‘bout knowin’ where I am lately. I think it's prolly ‘cause I got picked up by that gang last week, they didn’t do anythin’, I was jus’ hangin’ out with’em, but I guess social services didn’t like that I was hangin’ out with a,” he set down his tray and threw off his backpack to use his hand for air quotes, “‘violent gang’ such as the Cat’s Claws. They’re honestly not that bad.”

Jake drug the armchair closer to his plate and Zoey’s bed, picking up his milk carton to clink it against her feeding tube gently. He drank his soup slowly, enjoying the few pieces of meat and feeling proud every time he chewed a potato. He had been helping in the hospital garden when he could. Something social services had made him do to keep him off the streets but he still enjoyed it.

“Y’know, S.S’s been strugglin’ lately Z. Well, they always are, but really, after all that trouble I told ya ‘bout they’ve been breathin’ down my neck lately. They don’t like the idea of me livin in a hospital, this one worker told me I was goin to disrupt the peace, or waste people's time, y’know cause it’s a hospital and doctors an’ nurses need to focus, but I’ve been tryin real hard to blend in, I stayed out late to not clog the hallways but then they yelled at Joy ‘cause I kept gettin inta trouble, even when I wasn’t!

“Jus’ cause I hang out with criminals doesn’t make me one! I mean, someone has’ta take care of ‘em, else they’re all gonna die of infections, I tell ya, one time I met a lady who had let a lill’ stab wound get infected, it was so gross, but nobody wanted to help her so I looked at it and guess what, she just needed to wash it out a bit and properly bandage it. I showed ‘er how to make bandages from scraps like ya taught me. I’m ramblin’ uh.

“Oh yeah, so after they gave me that curfew I started tryin to make friends with the other patients and they were all real nice but S.S. didn’t like that either for some reason, somethin’ ‘bout it not bein professional, I can talk to other patients my age an’ that's it apparently. Like that makes sense. So now I ‘ave’ta check in every day after school, an’ before Joy leaves, an’ she locks us in here now! Have you noticed? She always unlocks it at five the next mornin’ but still. It’s been real borin.”

Jake pushed a strand of hair from Zoey’s face, it was to her shoulders now, she’d probably want to cut it when she woke up. Or maybe not, Jake was pretty sure she had only cut her hair in support of him having to cut his, she’d always had these really detailed hair styles before that. He wove a messy braid into a small bit of her hair and smiled at the attempt. 

“Sorry fer ramblin’, I know it’s annoyin’. But, uh, when ya wake up can you teach me how’ta braid hair please? Ok, I’mma go check in with Joy now, love you.”

He waited a moment, breathed in, breathed out. When nothing followed he quickly got up, pushing his chair back into place and collecting his dishes.

In the cafeteria it had quitted just a bit, most people had gone back to their rooms and work now. Entering the kitchen wasn’t really allowed but, like in many things, Jake was an exception. Entering the kitchen always felt like going under water and only hearing the muffled voices of the surface. 

The kitchen staff always talked in soft voices that mixed with the cling and clack of kitchen utensils. The sound of people in the cafeteria would worm it’s way through the walls and dance with the quiet music that played quietly from a trashy radio someone had fished out of a trash and repaired years ago. The smells of food stuck to a schedule just as much as the food. Today had been potato soup so the music was samba, Chef Maya’s playlist. 

She always danced her way around the kitchen but on samba days her movements would grow smoother like they’d been defrosted especially for the day. 

Jake quietly started running water over his dishes, happy to be looked over in the bustle. Tomorrow was fresh bread Friday so the kitchen was moving in a muffled hurry to prepare. Usually Jake would love to help, bread was one of his favorite things to make, but he still needed to check in with Joy so he quickly waved to the welcoming chefs and left. 

Joy was on the second level like always. She was checking in on a patient who had come in with a severe case of  Stardust yesterday. They hoped he would wake up in the coming days but it wasn’t likely. Jake hoped he woke up soon. From the door window Jake watched as Joy drew his blood and added it to her vial already filled with another liquid. She shook it until the red changed to a silvery metallic color, knitting her brows at the reaction, Jake mimicked her face, scrunching his brows in a similar fashion. 

Doctors had done this to Zoey every so often, more frequently when she first arrived, when they still had higher hopes. They’d let him shake the vials until the colors changed as a sort of morbid entertainment. 

Sighing, Joy zipped the blood sample into a contamination bag and checked the rest of the patient's vitals. When everything was in order she headed to the door, spotting Jake in the process. She knitted her brows at him and he quickly jumped off the stool he’d drug over to the door and carried it back to her desk. A minute later she walked out of the patient room and over to Jake, taking off her medical mask, and tossing her gloves into a garbage.

“See this line?” She pointed to the obvious silver and navy hazard line painted into the floor. 

Jake looked at it, taking another step behind the desk that was outside the line that separated the Stardust ward from the entrance of the floor.

“You see it, right?” Joy said again, tapping her foot on the line twice.

Jake nodded, eyes fixed on the simmering silvery lines nestled between the blue. Apparently the floor had been originally closed off with a temporary tape made for the epidemic but when it became a-

“You’re not supposed to be lookin round this floor,” She nagged, pulling Jake from his thoughts.

“I know,” he mumbled. When it became a permanent issue-

“If Social Services found out I was lettin’ you wander ‘round they’d move you again.”

“I know.” When it became a permanent issue they painted the line.

“That’d be what? 5 houses in 11 months? I mean, y’know they hate you livin’ here, and I can’t really disagree, it’s no place fer a kid.”

“I know.”

“As soon as a place opens up they’re gonna be itchin’ for a reason to kick ya.”

“I know.”

“Yeah, I bet,” she sighed, sitting on the floor next to him, “You're lucky we got yer sister moved for you, ya’know.”

Jake gave her the look, he gave her every time she said that, like he was lucky the hospital had given up on Zoey’s recovery enough to move floors, like they were waiting for her bed to open up, like he was lucky social services was so overworked that they were desperate enough to send a 13 year old [timephrame] to live in a hospital, in the same room as his comatose sister. 

“Don’t give me that look,” she sighed.

He scrunched his face more, hoping to double whatever feeling it caused.

“Stop,” she groaned, squishing his face, causing him to freeze, “Sorry, uh,” she withdrew her hands and tucked them between her legs, “Sorry, yeah, yer not lucky, but, yeah. Take the wins kid. You're close to her, I mean, you practically lived here even ‘fore you officially got signed over. And now you get to have me as your legal guardian!” She pointed at herself excitedly, “How awesome is that?”

“You?” Jake asked quizzically.

“Yeah.”

“Hm,” Jake hummed, pretending to think hard about how great it really was, “I don’ know. I had this one real cool guardian who taught me boxin’.”

“Really?”

“Yep,” Jake popped the p, doing it a coupe times, liking the small pressure it caused in his chest and throat.

Joy chuckled, “How’d that work? Y’know, with the whole,” she waved her hands at him, not finishing her sentence.

“Uh, I don’ know, she jus’, took it real slow an’ had me practice with a dummy or spar with her but she wouldn’t spar back, only block. That took a while for me to be comfortable with. I almos’ got comfortable enough to have a normal practice, our goal was by the end of the month,” Jake smiled, remembering how excited she was to realize Jake trusted her that much.

“What happened? If you don’t mind?”

“Huh?” he cleared away the memories like a sticky residue,”oh, uh,” he thought for a second, trying to recall which offense matched her and not another guardian, “Oh! She was stealin’ from the district over, uh D-12, y’know the one with all those orchards, yeah they didn’t like that she was stealin all that produce, so she was sent to care for a field until she could properly make up for all the lost product. Should’a known somethin’ was up with how many smoothies she made me,” Jake smiled, remembering the apple milkshakes she’d make, at first he’d thought they’d be gross but let it be known he’d never turn down free food and sure enough they’d been a hit.

“Harsh. I think I hear Akuno’s passin’ a law ‘bout border crossin’ soon.”

“I think that’d do D-20 some good, wouldn’t have so many rich idiots passin’ through just to laugh at us.”

Joy hummed, patting her legs before getting up, “Alright, thanks for checking in, if not a bit late,” she added with a joking scolding voice, “I’ll check in before bed,” she turned to leave but suddenly turned back, “Oh, and, uh, so last week, right, Monday I think, we went to the library and I got the place’s number but I lost the slip and can’t remember it. I hate to do this but could you help me please?” She made an apologetics face clasping her hand in front of her.

Jake hummed trying to remember; last week, Monday, they had gone to the library, it had been sunny, but rain looked to be rolling in. Jake had been excited about that. He had wanted a book on observing vocal tone and needed to return his book on how to understand a person's body language. He’d found it, remembered where it was from the last time he visited, right next to a thick red book and a squat maroon book. When they left the librarian checking them out had talked to Joy, they’d had red hair, it was very pretty, Jake had thought their freckles were very pretty as well, he’d always liked freckles, the librarian had written down the library's number and handed it to Joy, and, oh! He had seen it then, in the exchange of hands.

“It was 218-734-345-3455, the five’s coulda been six’s though, they didn’t have the best handwriting.”

Joy wrote down the last number, making note of the five to six bit, “Perfect, thank you so much, I’ll call about that book fair for you asap, promise.”

“Ok.”

Jake waved goodbye, as Joy went to fulfill the rest of her tasks. First he went to the roof, helping with the garden, the potatoes had needed to be pulled today. Heading to the kitchen next they were still preparing bread and he found himself helping add things to mixers and memorizing recipes he was excited to try some day. Chef Ron loved to share tips on how to substitute expensive ingredients with cheap items. 

His brother, Remmy, always shared how to safely eat overdue food, he technically couldn’t share these items with the public but he would “accidently” leave items for Jake after “accidently” talking about the processes needed to safely eat the food or after they had already been prepared.  

Jake was writing a paper for his English class when Joy came to say goodnight.

“Hey sour patch,” she entered, chuckling at Jake’s huff of annoyance at the nickname he never understood, “Bed time,” she sing-songed, setting her bag on the floor, “Y’all ready?”

Jack hummed, focused on finishing his thought. Joy walked over to Zoey’s bed, flattening the odd wrinkles and fixing her stray hairs. Smiling at the girl, her eye’s softened for a second, then hardened with something like resolved. She inhaled, sipping air like it would solidify the emotions she was trying to press in place, not seeing the way Jake watched her. He had finished his thought, but finished or not he always secretly watched as Joy fussed with Zoey before getting him ready for bed.

Jake found himself copying her routine in the morning, making sure it looked just like how Joy did it. He could never perfect the tiny curl she would draw against Zoey’s cheek with a strand of hair.

“I’m ready,” he mumbled, setting the laptop in the nightstand drawer. 

“I better not find out you were on that all night,” Joy warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jake lied. 

They both knew it was a lie, But this was a lie he wouldn't get punished for because one: it wasn’t really a lie as they both knew the truth, and two: Joy encouraged studying even if she didn’t approve of him studying into the early hours of morning. It was his own fault if he was tired in the morning and couldn’t focus at school, and that was punishment enough. 

“Pjs?” Joy scanned.

“Check,” Jake lifted his arm, revealing his soft pig sweater.

“Teef?”

“Check,” he widened his gums as if to prove they’d been scrubbed.

“Bed made?”

He pointed at the small cot in the corner, perfectly made.

“Window locked?” She walked to the window herself, checking the bolt and trying to lift it open. She turned away satisfied when it stayed closed, “Alright, school tomorrow, then right back. Amanda,” she sneered the name with a fake and horribly inaccurate posh accent, “is checkin’ in at four, so best behaviors. Now, in bed.”

She herded him into his cot, pulling the blanket over him and tucking in his feet.

“We gotta cut yer hair soon, it’s like a curtain in-fron-a yer eyes, how-d-ya even see?”

Jake crossed his eyes, pulling a curl and watching it bounce. Dad wouldn’t be a fan of this length, it was already too long, long enough to pull, reaching his nose and covering his ears.

“I don’t really know,” He lamented, “I jus sorta look through the gaps.” He swayed his head, watching the curls move back and forth, then looking through the gaps made with the movement.

Joy huff, “Right, Well, for now, I’ll bring some hair ties with me tomorrow, I can cut yer hair later this week, a’right?”

“Ok.”

  Picking up her bag again she turned off the light, “I’m gonna lock the door now, you don’t need anythin?”

“Nope.”

“Ok,” she smiled, “See you two in the mornin.” 

Jake smiled back, “See you tomorrow, bye.”

Jake listened as she locked the door and her footsteps receded. He waited a minute before climbing out of his bed and into Zoey’s. He technically wasn’t supposed to do this, however Joy, upon catching him one too many times, had shown him the best way to sleep close to her while watching all the medical instruments plugged into her like a computer. 

“Hey Zoey,” he whispered, “I’m not gonna stay long promise, jus wanted to talk real quick see-” Someone jiggled the door knob to their room, and Jake zipped back to his bed. Joy must have forgotten something, she did that sometimes, forgetting to mention something or forgetting to give him something. The jiggling stopped, Jake held his breath a moment, waiting for Joy to properly unlock the door and walk in but nothing happened. Maybe one of the patients was walking around, sometimes they got confused.

Jake made his way back over to Zoey, crawling into the bed, “Weird,” he mumbled, “I heard one of the new patients is a sleep walker, I wanted t’talk to ‘em, see what it was like. I wonder if they dream when they walk, if the dreams affect how they interact with the world. Anyway, I scored well on that test I told you ‘bout. I knew I’d do good but confirmation is always nice. Oh, and I got invited to a birthday party today. I think it was a real invitation, not a joke, Imma ask more questions tomorrow. Oh, an’ Peit and Simon, y’know my babysitters, made me cookies today. With chocolate chips, I know they definitely traveled districts for that, maybe they’ll take me with ‘em one’a these days, probably not, I’m a bit of a liability. Plus, I think it’s like a date thing for them, I wouldn’t want’ta third-wheel.”

Jake paused, listening to the bustle of the hospital.

“Hey Zoey,” he looked up to her, patting her cheek. He told himself he wasn’t trying to wake her up, but there was always hope that maybe she’d rustle awake at the touch, “could I sleep with you tonight? It’s been 46 days since the last time I did.” Jake waited, a car passed outside; somebody walked past their door, casting a shadow under it; somewhere in the building someone laughed. “Alright, thank you.”

Jake curled himself into Zoey’s side and under the cover, inhaling and exhaling slowly, until sleep finlay came, and he woke up in his library.

The Library was not, against most people’s assumptions, organized. There was a desk when Jake first entered. Here a Jake that looked exactly like him sat, this Jake, he was often just called Desky, had a little laptop like Jake’s out in the real world and it ran somewhat slow. If real Jake wanted to remember something like “yesterday's lunch” this was his best bet but for things more complicated like the phone number from earlier today, he found it easier to travers his mind and find the memory he wanted with context.

Memories were often accessed like doorways for most people and Jake was no different even with his advanced memory. If he wanted to remember last Tuesday's lunch he’d first find last Tuesday in his library, then remember lunch time, who he’d been with maybe, what the menu at school had had to offer, something key like a fist fight breaking out. This sounded organized but his mind was still somehow a mess. 

Memories sat on the ground and were strewn across the shelves in odd orders, remembering a duck could remind Jake of green which would remind him of apples so of course those memories shaped like books were all currently stacked on top of each other on the floor. There was a crate somewhere in this library that moaned and tried to grab Jake’s attention but he had hidden it behind so many other random memories that he could only access it by really trying to remember those memories, or something reminded him of them, but he never wanted to think about them anyway so the box stayed hidden and Jake didn’t know were in The Library it was. 

Sometimes when Peit and Simmon wanted to talk without him hearing they’d ask him to think about how many pigeons he’d seen last Monday and he was always too naive to realize why they were asking at the time so he would delve into his library looking through Monday’s book, looking for birds he had seen and counting each one. When he would resurface the two’s conversation would be interrupted with his answer, their conversations had already been finished anyway.

As much of a mess as it was Jake loved his library. The odd ‘roof’ above was a deep swirling blue galaxy, shifting in hues and twinkling with stars. Vines laced their ways around  books and objects, red roses and other flowers blooming from oblong the body. Forget-me-nots timidly grew from crevices here and there, and while there was no smell inside his head except the wafting of a memory Jake liked to imagine it smelled of lilies and old books, crinkled and weary with age. 

The shelves ran high, decorated with ladders that stretched taller than buildings. The shelves housed more than books, flowers and shrubs burst from their counters. Toys and food stuck in time sat on display. Some of the books, placed between a puddle and a bowl of cereal were actually books he’d read and taken the time to perfectly reconstruct in his mind.

He was never lonely here either, versions of himself walked aimlessly, one version from each birthday, a version from hard to erase memories, and versions from mundane days. Each one would never exist again, only here could they remain like a copy of himself in that moment. Jake hated to even look at some of them but he knew even still, in some odd way he was never alone. Or maybe he should take Joy up on that offer of therapy. 

Sometimes Jake wished he could dream but being in the muted quiet of his head, organizing his memories and objects, he felt he was resting enough. Jake smiled as he picked up a book filled with all the recipes he’d learned, deciding to create a shelf for food related memories. Memories could be held on more than one shelf so he left this first version on the floor next to the book on pigs.

Jake spent his sleep organizing his memories on his new shelf, finally after some time he felt himself start to drift, starting to wake up. He stretched his hands over his head, it didn’t achieve much but he felt like one was supposed to do this after a bigger task so he did it anyway. Taking a step back to admire his work, something cold settled under his skin and panic wiggled it’s way into his heart as instead of hitting the hardwood floor or even waking up in bed his foot sank down. Instead of hitting the ground he fell into the floor.

Chapter 2

⭐️Hello hello! This is a story I've held close to my heart for a long time but haven't written a lot of. The other day I realized that when I started writing it I had expected be done with the first book by 2024. I'm goin to try n write a chapter a month (it'll probably be pocmarked with spelling mistakes ngl) but it's a challenge I hope I can keep up with 🌙

[the-carlos-cow-eyes]

Sacrifice ~ Chucky AU

Tags: @losersclubisms

Plot: Lydia gets stabbed Instead of Junior

Warnings: Blood, Gore, Pain, Injuries, Hospital Mentions, Death Mentions

Jake felt guilty. Lydia was In the hospital and he felt guilty. Guilty that he didn't stop any of the Chucky's fast enough. If he had, then his twin sister wouldn't be laying In a hospital bed with a tube down her throat to help her breathe and she wouldn't have a scar on her chest as another constant reminder of her trauma.

But If there was one person that felt just as guilty as he did, If not more so, then It was Junior. After all, he did help Chucky lure Lydia Into meeting up with him at the theater, right? That's what was going through his head anyway. It had all happened so fast. First Lydia was trying to talk Junior down and tell him that It didn't matter what Chucky said, that he was a good person, that she loved him, that she was sorry If she wasn't paying much attention to how he was feeling after his Mom was killed. That last part had been confusing Junior because she was the only person who stuck by him even when he tried to push her away.

Then Chucky started Interfering and he lunged at Lydia. Junior got In the way and the two scuffled for a few seconds until Chucky somehow got the upper hand. After seeing this, Lydia managed to grab a nearby Item to use as a weapon and swing at him to hit him away from her cousin, only to get lunged at again mere moments later. It only took about five seconds for Chucky to be on top of her and twenty seconds of struggling for there to be a knife In her chest with a cry of pain escaping her lips. Junior had witnessed all of this and was frozen In place, but once he heard his cousin's cry of pain, he snapped out of It and kicked Chucky away, knocking him down. That was when he stomped his head In again and again and again. All until his head was nothing but a pile of red mush.

The anger that had been rising In his system Immediately turned Into fear and worry once he heard his cousin weakly utter his name. He quickly turned and knelt down beside her, his hands shaking as he didn't know what to do. Did he pull the knife out? No. Her pain would only be made worse and she would bleed out. Did he just sit there and comfort her In her potential last moments? No. He couldn't let her die. Did he run? No. He couldn't just leave her. So, without any other options, he pulled her Into his arms and cried out for help In case anyone else was still alive In the building.

Luckily, Jake and Devon had heard Junior's cries from the main screening room. Lexy and Coraline heard them as well and since Devon could tell that Lexy wanted to find Junior, he volunteered to stay with Caroline, causing the remaining three to run off and follow where the shouts for help were coming from. It didn't take them long to reach him and the sight before them was horrifying to see. Lydia was barely clinging to life and there was blood everywhere, both coming from the dead Chucky doll In the corner and from Lydia's knife wound. Jake quickly rushed to their side, not needing to ask what happened since the sight of the room alone could answer his question and he quickly shouted at either Lexy or Coraline to call 911, to which Lexy quickly complied.

Both cousins were struggling to keep Lydia calm and awake until the ambulance arrived since the young girl was slowly losing conciousness. Her vision was blurring, so all she could see were the silhouettes of her only remaining family members. She tried to talk to them through her pain and her tears, but It was no use, darkness slowly overcame her and her eyes slowly fell closed. This alarmed the boys, but after seeing that she was still breathing, they knew all they could do anymore was try to keep her alive while they waited.

Now, It had been a couple of months since that Incident and Lydia was stuck In a foster home she didn't like without either Jake or Junior at her side and with constant panic attacks and flashbacks to the Incident haunting her every day. She hoped she'd get to see the boys soon. Same goes for Devon and Coraline. But that was all she could do at the moment. All she could do was hope and wait.

[bill-gates-hate-blog]

would anyone like to read my story

Zombie apocalypses are supposed to be… apocalypses. That’s what I thought until I was sixteen, when what the scientists call Opheliacordiceps was discovered.

I was raised on a ton of zombie media-- shows, books, video games, you name it. It had what appealed to every teenage boy-- the fantasy of laying down the law with your shotgun. When the Brazilian government revealed they had discovered a fungus that could reanimate the dead, I and every other misanthrope on the planet pervertedly fantasized about the collapse of society, imminent mass death, and becoming the badasses the games convinced us we’d be.

The doomsday preppers must have been real disappointed when business continued as usual.

Two things, we learned that fateful year. One, that the fungus didn’t actually do anything to you until you were already dead, and two, that we’d been in contact with it for a lot longer than we’d realized. Have you eaten a piece of fruit in the last two months? Congrats, you’re going to be a zombie when you die. Sure, getting bit accelerates the process, but the consequences are the same.

Even now, sometimes I find myself wishing that society had collapsed anyway. Humans and their damn perseverance.

I didn’t know my mother passed away until I got home from work yesterday. My daughter pointed at the TV and asked why the news was looking for Grandma. I called my boss this morning, asking for the day off so I could grieve and be with my family.

He said no.

What could I do? My daughter has to eat, so I took the bus to work.

Collections officers frequent the crematorium for obvious reasons. You can tell them apart from civilians by their tired, anxious expressions. They’re a little like paramedics. However, for Collections, a misstep will cost more than one life.

I don my gas mask.

It’s grotesque, the way the dead strain against their bonds. False people, bound to planks of solid oak, fingers thick with bloat. My job is to make sure they don’t get up.

Sometimes people come here straight from the hospital. There have been a few cases where they aren’t even quite dead yet, but are still bound and sent to the crematorium in anticipation of their death. It makes it easier on Collections, I guess.

People are often less than whole when they die, too. Sometimes Collections nails the parts to the boards in a last ditch-effort to keep them in place.

I spy one such woman. She’s been cut cleanly in half. I heard it was a workplace accident. Her hand seemed to have gotten caught in the machine too-- it’s stapled to the board, detached, straining eerily against its prison.

I scan the bodies one by one as I burn and document them. None of them have been my mom.

When I finally go on break, I’ve neutralized 36 threats.

“You’re working slower than usual, Jim. I hope I don’t have to write you up...” Johnson drawls.

“You can’t be for real,” I say through gritted teeth. “I told you my mother--”

“She’s still running around, no? They’re not dead until they go through us.”

“That’s not--”

Johnson has the gall to pat my back like he’s my friend. “Listen. I know something that’ll cheer you up.”

Despite myself, I meet his eyes.

“I’ve picked up a new hobby. If you can spare a few hours after work, I’ll explain on the way.”

“I don’t know…”

“There’ll be beer.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Good man. Now, pump those numbers up! Those zombies won’t roast themselves! Though I certainly wish they would,” he says, guffawing at his own joke.

The rest of my shift goes by without incident. I try my hardest to put thoughts of my mom out of my mind.

5pm rolls around and Johnson motions secretively to me from his car.

“People aren’t supposed to know about this kind of thing, you see. So you’ll have to keep it between us.”

“That’s fine,” I say, not sure if I’m lying.

He pulls out of the parking lot and puts on some smooth jazz.

“So Jim, what do you know about operating a gun?” he says, eyes squarely on the road.

“Huh? Um, just what I learned in college. The mandatory courses, after..”

“Not that they have any effect.” Johnson snorts.

“Yeah.”

“Well, you’ll learn today.”

“Are we going to a shooting range?”

“Eh, not quite.”

I try to pry more information out of him, but no luck.

We pull into the driveway of what is probably the biggest house I’ve ever seen. That’s a real mansion, no doubt about it…in the middle of the woods.

“You know  this guy?”

“He’s my brother,” Johnson snorts. He buzzes himself in with the thumbprint scanner.

The mansion is practically empty. Most of the furniture is white. Sometimes I’m not even sure there’s furniture there at all, if I move my eyes too fast.

“Oh hey, Dave. You brought a friend this time?” It’s a man that, unsurprisingly, looks like Johnson.

“Jim, this is my brother Cory. Cory, this is Jim. He’ll be joining us this evening.”

“Ah, I see.” Cory grins. “He’s got just the build we’re looking for, too.”

“Build?” I can’t stop myself from asking. Johnson hands me a beer.

“We need young, fit guys. Most of the people who try their hand at this kind of thing are old coots.” Cory rolls his eyes. “Wait, did you tell him?” “Oh, yeah, we’re going hunting.” Johnson says casually.

“Oh. I’ve never hunted before.” I’m not sure this is going to make me feel better at all.

Johnson seems to read my thoughts. “You’ll find this cathartic, I promise.”

I don’t answer. I just take a swig of Cory’s expensive beer.

“Sun’s about to set,” Cory notes. “They get more active at night. We should start preparing.”

“You have a gun preference?” Johnson asks as we meander our way to the shed.

“Well, I haven’t shot a lot of them.”

“Just pick something that looks cool.” Cory shrugs, pressing a button.

As the motorized door slowly slides open, I can’t help but find myself in awe of the sheer collection in front of me. It’s the decade-old violent wet dream of every teenage boy.

“Tell me, did you ever play ‘Gears of the Dead,’ Jim?” Johnson says smugly.

“Not for ten years. Wait… do you mean..?” I can’t make my mouth work.

Cory winks. “Take the shotgun. I have a feeling you’ll like it.”

Johnson himself chooses a pistol. Cory has a sniper rifle. I obediently take the shotgun off the wall, trying to remember how to load it. Something tells me the games I played as a kid wouldn’t be very accurate, and my college memories are hazy.

“Eyes up, men!” Cory says, in an approximation of a commanding voice. “Once I open this door, we’re in their territory.” He’s at the other shed entrance.

“Let’s kick some ass,” says Johnson, in the lamest way you could possibly imagine.

I just nod, and we enter the vast, gated forest.

“On my mark, gentlemen.” Cory says, closing the gates behind him.

“So… you play zombies in here. Is that it?” I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t had so many beers.

“Shh!” Johnson says.

Cory leads us further into the woods.

“Some kind of camp there,” Johnson notes.

Cory nods. He takes a metal stake from his pack, and then vaults up the tree, perching himself on a thick branch with rifle in hand. He signals to Johnson with a nod. “I’ll watch your back. You two raid for supplies.”

“This is your property.” I say in disbelief.

“Cory has the servants set stuff up here so we never have the same scenario twice.” He lights the fire nonchalantly.

Incredulously, I check one of the tents. Bullets.

I cautiously check the other tent and all of a sudden a hissing zombie launches itself on top of me, pinning me to the earth scarily close to the campfire. I try to kick it off, its deathly scent making me gag. 

“Johnson! Help!”

“Use your gun, man! Come on!”

“You have a g--!” I give the thing a swift kick in the gut before I scramble to fire my shotgun. White pain shoots through my stomach. I must have fired it incorrectly, because my ribs hurt like crazy, but the zombie reels back with pellets peppered across (and in) its chest.

Cory fires a bullet through its brain, barely missing me. It slowly falls over, searching for its head like a drunken man searches for his dignity.

“You aren’t very good at this.” Johnson says, frowning.

I slowly sit up, clutching my stomach. “I needed help!” I lift my shirt up to check the damage. It looks like this is going to bruise pretty badly.

“You needed the practice.” Johnson says dismissively.

“Hey, he did fine for his first time.” Cory says, hopping down from the tree. “Was it guarding anything?”

Johnson fires another bullet into its spine, stopping it almost entirely. “You check.”

Cory steals into the tent, coming out with a few beers and a loaf of bread. “Eh. This is alright. Did you see that headshot, Dave?” He grins.

“Ah, yes, from point blank range.”

“You still saved me, though.” I mumble. “Thanks.”

“See? He appreciates me.”

“So this is the game you play?” I say slowly.

“Jim, there are very few times when a man can fulfill his actual potential. You have to fight to feel alive in this world.” Cory says with mock wisdom. “Sometimes, Collections will miss somebody. I do society a favor by bringing those missed souls here.” He opens his arms grandly.

“...how do you catch them?” I say, stunned. ‘Usually Collections won’t rest until they find someone.”

“Hi, I own the Crematorium,” Dave says casually.

“I also make deals with Collections,” Cory nods sagely. “That one, though?” He gestures towards the now motionless corpse. “Bobby Carter. His daughter agreed to give him to me after I promised to pay his outstanding medical balance. Cancer treatment ain't cheap.”

“She…sold him?”

“You can sell anything for the right price.” Johnson said. “He was already dying. I was doing her a favor. I get to keep my hobby going, and she gets to be debt free. Win-win!” He grins.

Something boils in my gut, but I can’t figure out what it is.

“Get up,” Johnson commands, offering his hand. I don’t take it, and instead stagger to my feet. Worth it to spite him.

“Let’s keep looking. I want to find the tower before Junior gets himself killed.”

I want to tell the both of them to go fuck themselves so, so badly, but I bite my tongue.

We walk for at least thirty minutes. The brothers fight off another two zombies with ease. I don’t understand how they do it--how they can detect them near-instantly. They must have been doing this forever.

We arrive at another camp by a small creek. Obviously new and planted by Cory’s staff. Not well-worn by genuine hardship.

“Jim, here’s your chance to try again,” Johnson says haughtily. “Keep your wits about you. We’ll watch your back.”

“You got this.” Cory shoots me a thumbs up.

Johnson leans back against a tree, while Cory climbs it again with ease. I don’t want to do this anymore, but the last thing I want to do right now is lose my job, so I steady myself and make sure I’m holding the shotgun correctly this time. I walk slowly towards the camp, trying to listen for zombie noises.

I try to survey the area like I’ve seen Cory do. I’m shaking. I check all three tents. No zombies.

I wave to the brothers. “Hey! It’s all--”

Something grabs my ankle with violent force, dragging me into the water, I kick myself free and then I see the zombie’s face as I stumble and fall backwards.

“Mom..?”

Really, I should have expected this. I should have thought about this the moment I figured out the Johnson brothers were hunting zombies for sport, and that my mother had never been collected.

I can’t make myself shoot her. She’s blue, bloated with water, but it’s unmistakably her. Her leg is mangled, and her torso is just barely holding together. She’d been hit by a car, after all.

I slowly slide away, unable to find the strength to get up.

“J…” I think that’s what she said. I don’t know if she can recognize me. Could Ophelia do that?

I try to make out if she’s mouthing something. “It’s me, Mom.” Tears are running down my face. “It’s Jim. I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

“What are you doing, Jim! Shoot her!” Johnson yells.

She grabs onto my ankle again, and I stop crawling away. I just miss her. I just want to talk to her. “Kelsey misses you too. She’s five now. I wish you could hold her. She’s gotten so big.”

Mom opens her mouth. Is she about to say something? She pulls herself closer, using me as an anchor. Opheliacordiceps buds are sprouting from behind her ears. It reminds me of one of my favorite pictures of her from when she was young. She’s got a white flower crown in her hair, in that one.

And just like that, Johnson sends a bullet through her neck. Her body is so weak that her head flies clean off.

“No!” I yell, pouncing on the head.

“Let go of it, moron! She can still bite!”

“No! That’s my mother!” I scream. I’m so angry. I clutch the head close to my stomach.

“Jim, you’re no good to anyone dead,” Cory says slowly, hopping from his perch. “This isn’t how she would want you to go.”

“Keep her memory out of your fucking mouth!” I yell. “How many-- how many people do you have trapped in here! Do their children know? Does it matter one bit to you that you’re tearing apart someone’s family?”

My mother’s head has bitten into my arm. I barely recognize it, and hug her tighter.

“This is a necessary evil.”

“Jim, you burn these people for a living.”

“Yes! To keep people safe! Not to stroke my ego!”

“Dave, I think he’s been bit,” I hear Cory whisper.

“I’ve always hated you.” I spit at Johnson.  “I told you I wanted a day to grieve and all you do is squeeze and squeeze me until I have nothing left. So here’s the deal, you sons of bitches.” My vision is starting to fade. “I’ll play your little game… but Kelsey… everything… she needs to be taken care of. My daughter.”

Johnson turns to Cory. “Well? He’s young, and well built, and he doesn’t have any significant injuries.”

Cory nods. “He’d make a nice challenge for sure. But…”

“But what! I’m already dying!” My vision clouds with white fibers. This is the part where Ophelia grows through my eyes. It hurts so bad, but it’ll all be over soon. I won’t be here for these men to tear my body apart. At least, I hope.

“But I don’t remember negotiating that in your contract.” Johnson’s voice is sharp and cold. And then nothing.

[silvercaptain24]

I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes. I’m falling asleep but wanted you to get this tonight

Warriors normally liked PE. Normally he didn’t have to think and as long as he participated, Mr Koga was far too lazy to actually join in or give his 30 students any critiques. The problem was… it was only his first week back at school after the incident. He had insisted on going to school. The teachers were very quickly losing patience with him needing accommodations for his hospital stay… not that any of them dared say it out loud, but he heard it in Mr Zant or Ms. Veran’s careful tone when they spoke to him. Trying to shoot free-throw shots was infuriatingly taxing with the concussion screwing with his vision and the random, scattered noise of the seven bouncing balls was making his headache worse with every second. With the headache, came nausea. He watched the clock, trying to will the 50 minute period to go faster.

He made it within 10 minutes of clean up/dress time before he lost the battle with his splitting headache and roiling stomach. He’d tried to catch Mr Koga’s attention to slip out, but the gym teacher was trying to show off ridiculous trick-shots with another group of students and… he barely made it to the side of the court and a garbage can before losing his breakfast. Immediately everything in the gym came to a screeching halt. He heard the gym teacher groan through everyone’s expressions of fear or disgust.

“Pipit, take Warriors to the nurse.” He rested his head on his arm. It helped hide his face. Of course the class-president would be drafted to help his sorry butt…

“You good to walk, Wars?” Came Pipit’s quiet question. The other student pulled one of Warriors’s arms over his shoulder to assist him anyway.

—

He couldn’t focus his eyes enough to work his own phone so he ended up laying in the dark nurse’s office for over an hour until someone found time to call his guardian.

“How are you feeling, Son?” There was an odd click that accompanied every other step as heard Fierce greet him from across the nurse’s room.

“I’m sorry.” He’d pulled Fierce away from everything (again) to deal with him. He’d have to do much better than this if he wanted to be on his own and taking care of Mask…

“You’ve nothing to be forgiven for, Warriors.” The odd click-click came closer and Warriors pulled the plasticky pillow away from his eyes. Fierce was standing beside the bed and leaning on… a cane?

“What happened?” He sat up, too fast for his aching head and his guardian hurried to change his stance so he could reach out and steady him.

“Nothing recent nor concerning.” Feirce followed Warriors’s gaze down to the cane he was currently leaning on. “It is simply the cause of my no longer being in the military. I shattered my ankle one deployment and… it is a bad day for it apparently.” Warriors continued to stare for just a little longer. “It is also the reason why Mask and you had free pick of the rooms upstairs and for this.” Fierce shifted to brandish the cane.

“Now… How's your head? Can you walk? I’d like to take you home.” They certainly made an odd pair. Him with his leaning almost drowsily against Fierce as Fierce tried to juggle keeping his footing with the cane and also halfway holding Warriors upright. They made their way out of the school. You know, if the big tall scary guy could need a cane on a bad day…maybe he wasn’t completely hopeless?

YOU USED THE CANE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

ALSO PIPIT MY BELOVED

[taughtdefense]

ethan’s pulse instantly quickens, anger & bitterness surging up from that deep reservoir of helplessness he tries so hard to keep buried. he’s been pushing away his own trauma from the school fight to try & help sam & the others, especially since miyagi-do shut down. even if mr. larusso just wants to keep everyone safe, that it was for their best interests... anthony’s flippant tone stirs up everything he’s been trying to hold down—because it isn’t just about miguel or sam, or even himself. it’s about robby, too, in a way that ethan barely lets himself acknowledge.

images flash through his mind, jumbled but so real. sam’s scars, the angry red lines tory left using a spiked bracelet, visible reminders of the fight’s brutality. miguel lying in a hospital bed, fragile & still. but it’s the memory of robby that cuts the deepest—robby’s face, panicked & overwhelmed, right before he ran. he remembers every angle that was uploaded from people’s phones about the fight, recalls his own battles with preston & his karate rival, nolan—they’d ganged up on him. he’d hospitalized nolan, but preston… preston is tougher, like ethan—an eldritch being; his younger brother can take much more physical punishment. he’d gotten away fine, unharmed & entirely trauma-free. because preston is a fucking psychopath.

ethan had wanted to reach out, to do something to pull robby back, but he’d been helpless to stop him. he couldn’t even go after him—his earplugs had been ruined, leaving him too physically overwhelmed to react. & what should he have done? go after robby, or risk destroying the goddamn universe because he couldn’t hold back his own powers?

& here’s the scarily sobering thing—he could have done that. it almost happened. (in a wholly evisceration-level, catastrophic incident involving the complete annihilation of this universe, who do i choose? robby or the universe?)

mr. larusso & johnny should have let him search for robby with them. it’s driving ethan fucking insane. all of it is.

a darker pulse thrums at the edge of his awareness, a low hum under his skin, something ancient & raw that stirs to life whenever his emotions run this high. he can feel the tension there, a shadow that coils in the pit of his stomach, as if it’s waiting for him to lose control. he clings to his humanity, keeps it close, even as he feels that eldritch side of him pressing against his mind like a tangible presence, eager to spill over. especially recently. it would be so easy to let it happen, to let go, to let the shadows deepen & twist until @himbohotel saw just how serious this was.

he doesn’t, though.

ethan feels his chest tighten with rage as he drops his backpack onto the ground with a loud thump, surprised that his body hasn’t (at the very least) shifted to gain his three sets of ink-black wings. he can’t help it—the memory of robby’s face, that glimmer of fear & regret, stays with him. robby wasn’t some cold-hearted fighter, a monster, the way people on the news outlets & in the valley make him out to be. no one else seems to see the real robby, the one ethan knows, or thinks he knows, anyway. it’s as if he’s the only one who sees the parts of robby that aren’t hardened by anger. the vulnerable side, the one that deserves compassion, not endless fucking judgment.

ethan scowls, staring down at anthony on the couch. “oh, my god. fucking christ.” he mutters under his breath.

ethan’s stomach twists, a mix of anger & protectiveness he can’t quite explain. his feelings for robby have been this quiet, complicated thing, & he’s always been aware of them, but now they’re flaring up, raw & painful. every sarcastic word from anthony feels like an attack, like he’s belittling something ethan’s heart can’t ignore.

anthony mutters, “happy now?” with that insincere, lazy tone, & ethan’s temper snaps.

“people don’t just move on from this, anthony,” he hears himself say, his voice frigid, his anger barely contained. “this isn’t just a joke or a game where you can start over. sam’s got scars she’ll carry forever, & robby’s… out there, alone,” he can’t even say in juvie, because he’s pretty sure he’ll start screaming, “paying for a goddamn accident every day. he’s not some villain, & i’m fucking sick of everyone treating him that way.” anthony might not give a shit, but ethan does. he’s venting now because if he doesn’t do it later, he might do something he’ll really regret.

his breath catches slightly, his own words stirring something painful & unspoken within him. he can feel that dark urge curling up, urging him to do more, to let anthony understand the weight of his fury. but ethan holds it back, nails sharply digging into his palms.

ethan’s frustration churns like a storm inside him. completely moving out of the larusso house feels more & more like an idea he’ll go through with with every passing second, rather than a one-off thought. that’s been happening a lot since he heard the news of robby being put into juvie. anthony’s careless jokes only fuel the fire, reinforcing the idea that he needs to leave without telling anyone, giving no one any warning. he’s so furious with mr. larusso that he can’t even look at him anymore. each sarcastic remark from anthony cuts deeper, solidifying his idea to pack whatever belongs he has & leave quietly within the next few hours, before mr. & mrs. larusso come home from work & sam from a friend’s house, & just go. maybe anthony’ll fucking help him pack his bags, since he’s such a free loader, as he’s called him several times.

because of his growing, biting rage, the lamp light next to anthony flickers. just once, & barely noticeable, but it’s enough to make him want to scream out loud. he doesn’t—he holds back. always holds back.

“but yeah, sure, go ahead. laugh it off.” he pauses, swallowing hard, trying to keep his rage from broiling over, from releasing his powers or becoming more & more visibly monstrous, eldritch-like qualities & all, something that would definitely terrify anthony… & expose your nonhuman nature. “just keep your jokes to yourself, because if you can’t understand why this isn’t funny now… maybe you never will.”