#quick note: normally i would link where i got these from but i can't because they are from an old tumblr post that's gone now

[kuzcoskingdom]

Story Sketches by Barry Johnson from Kingdom of the Sun, which later became Emperor’s New Groove.

[4littlefishies]

The 36th Floor

Office worker Satoru Gojo finds himself stuck with the task of training his brand new coworker, but he doesn't know what to expect when he sees who he's supposed to be training. He can't fall in love with the man that sits in the cubicle across from him, right?

satoru gojo x suguru geto office au

warnings: nothing for this chapter, smut in later chapters!

wc: 6.6k

note: Hi all! Thought I'd start posting this on here as well. I always upload first on ao3, so if you wan't to keep updated, I'll put a link at the bottom! :) This is a non-curse non-jujutsu au because I enjoy writing fluff and happiness and crack and all the good stuff. <3

Monday Morning

Satoru Gojo opens his eyes as the sound of his alarm blares through his previously silent bedroom. His hands come up to rub the sleep out of his eyes as he sits up in his bed before grabbing at his phone to make the annoying sound of his alarm stop. He takes a couple deep breaths and sits with his eyes closed for a moment before he finally pushes the comforter to the side and shifts his legs off of the side of the bed. 

Standing up from the warmth of his bed, Satoru shivers as the cold air hits his skin. He makes his way to the bathroom to start the routine that he does every morning before work: Shower, brush his teeth, skincare, hair; in that order, five days a week, 12 months a year. He loved how the structure of his morning before work and getting to listen to music as he calmly got ready made his whole day feel better.

Afterwards, he would make his bed and head out to the kitchen to eat a quick breakfast, which typically consisted of a sugary cereal or some kind of fruit for on the go if he was in a hurry to leave - which unfortunately happened more often than not. Thankfully, today was one of the days where he had time to sit down at the counter and eat a proper breakfast.

Humming along with the music playing through his phone, he makes his way back into his room and steps into his closet. He pulls out a navy blue suit jacket and pants, along with a white button-up shirt for underneath and a tie to pull it all together. Satoru gets dressed and with his jacket folded over the side of his now neatly-made bed, he picks out a pair of brown oxfords and finally puts on his watch. 

The mirror by his bedroom door is the final step in his routine as he checks his reflection one last time before heading towards the front door. The blue of his eyes almost glow back at him as he looks over himself in the mirror, making sure his bright white hair looks decent before flicking off the lights and pulling on his jacket. He picks up his bag from the table next to the front door and grabs his keys out of the bowl, shoving them into his pocket. 

“See you when I get home, Shiro.” He whispers to the white cat, looking up at him with wide eyes from the couch. The cat makes a quiet noise that makes Satoru smile as he closes the front door behind him and checks that it’s locked before turning and walking down the hallway towards the elevator. 

Today was just another day for Satoru, a typical Monday morning. He would walk to the station not too far from his house and wait for the train along with everyone else also going to their 9-5 jobs in the city. He found joy in the time he got to listen to music on his commute and enjoyed seeing the same people he would see every morning. The man seated across the aisle from him would get off the stop before Satoru, every single morning. The woman a couple rows in front of him would get off the stop after he got on. 

Satoru liked to ponder and imagine what these strangers on the train were doing with their days. The scenarios in his head were probably much more exciting that what was actually going on in these people’s lives, but he would rather imagine that the stranger in the same black trench coat every day is actually a member of the Yakuza and not just an accountant or a lawyer or something normal. 

Before he knows it, the train is coming up to his stop. He stands up, stabilizing himself with one of the many hand holds as the train finally slows to a stop. The doors open and he steps off, walking in time with his music, his hands in his pockets as he walks out into the crisp morning air. The walk to his office is a short one, but he stops at the coffee shop in the lobby of the building as he does every morning.

“Good morning, Miwa!” He says in a singsong voice as he steps up to the counter. The young woman smiles and grabs a disgustingly sweet drink set to the side of the register that was just made for him. He picks it up and hands her twice as much cash as it actually costs before turning and swiftly walking towards the elevator. “You’re the best, Miwa!” He calls out over his shoulder as he rushes towards the closing elevator doors.

“Have a good day Gojo!” She calls out after him in response. He waves with a smile as he steps into the elevator. Just another part of his routine that makes his day even better. He takes a small sip of his still-too-hot coffee in the half full elevator and presses the button for floor 36. He readjusts his bag on his shoulder and pulls out his key card as the elevator makes stops at a few floors before he reaches his own. 

“Have a good day guys.” Satoru says as the elevator opens to his floor, resulting in a few quiet thank you’s and you too’s. Someone else steps off of the elevator at the same time as him and Satoru turns to notice that it’s his coworker, Shoko Ieiri. A surprised look crosses his face as he looks at her. “What the hell? I didn’t even notice you in there!” He says with a cheeky smile on his face as they walk down the hallway towards the glass door of their office. He holds his key card up to the side of the door before the lock clicks and he pulls the large glass door open, allowing Shoko inside first.

“Just say you don’t care about me, idiot.” She says, rolling her eyes with a smile, walking inside as Satoru holds the door open for her. The two of them head straight for the break room, Shoko puts her lunch box in the fridge, and Satoru grabs a strawberry-mango yogurt, along with a spoon. 

“Maybe you need to be more noticeable.” Satoru teases back at her. Shoko closes the fridge and glares up at him. The two of them have been friends since high school, which resulted in their sibling-like relationship that consisted of endless teasing and fake bullying.

“I got you hired here, I bet I could get you fired too, you know that right?” She says as they both turn to walk out of the break room to head to their cubicles, which luckily - or unluckily - were right next to each other. Satoru leans on the edge of Shoko’s cubicle as she sets her things down and tries to get adjusted.

“No way, Shoko. Nanami loves me.” He says, talking about their boss. She raises an eyebrow at him as he backs up into his cubicle across the aisle and sets his bag down on his desk. He puts his hands up, as if to say “I can’t help it” and sits down in his chair with a smile and turns to turn on his computer. 

The office is quiet with the chatter of everyone arriving for the morning along with the sounds of keyboards typing and mice clicking. Gojo starts with the normal morning things like checking his emails and then his planner to see what he has planned out for the day. “Shit.” He whispers, but still loud enough for Shoko to hear. 

“What’s your problem?” Shoko asks, not even turning her head away from her monitor to look at him. 

“They’re having me train someone new.” He says, sounding slightly annoyed. “I have so much to do already and they want me to train someone new?” He rubs his forehead and closes his eyes, thinking about how much more this is going to set him back. 

“If you need help with anything, just let me know.” She responds, trying to be helpful, all the while knowing that she would have no idea how to even do most of the things that Satoru does on a daily basis. 

“I just need to get as much done in this hour that I have before he gets here.” Satoru says, mostly to himself, but loud enough that Shoko hears.

“I have a meeting at 10, but I’ll be back after lunch if you need anything.” She adds, trying to be helpful and make him feel better about the day ahead.

“Thank you, Shoko, I appreciate it.” He says, starting to work on a presentation for when some of the higher ups from corporate were coming later in the month. He pops one headphone in, trying to get focused into his work to get as much done as possible in the shortest amount of time. 

Slowly but surely, Satoru’s coffee disappears and the strawberry-mango yogurt cup he had grabbed from the fridge is empty and long gone. His fingers type away quickly at his quiet keyboard as he fills the slides with information that he needs to get across to the corporate visitors. Sales had been great this year, and it was his responsibility to explain to the higher ups what their branch is doing right and things that they think could help other branches to do better.

An hour passes much more quickly than Satoru would have liked, but Shoko is gone to her meeting in one of the conference rooms and suddenly Satoru’s phone rings. He rarely used it to talk to anyone outside of the office, so he was not surprised to see the name Utahime Iori on the screen. He smiles and grabs it before answering sweetly.

“Why good morning Utahime.” He says nicely.

“Gojo, I just finished up paperwork with the new hire, so I’m just giving you a heads up that he’s on his way, okay?” She responds, trying to avoid conversation as much as possible.

“Not even a good morning back?” Satoru responds, sounding hurt, all the while he has a smile on his face. 

“Good morning.” She says, shortly. “He’s on his way, his name’s Suguru Geto. Bye.” She hangs up and the line goes blank.

“Hello? Utahime??” Satoru questions at the obviously ended phone call. He chuckles and hangs the phone back up. He hears a quiet set of footsteps walking on the other side of the wall to his back. He turns around and stands up just in time to see the long black haired man come around the corner. He’s wearing a black suit with a red patterned tie and wears his hair half up and half down. Satoru makes eye contact with him and he feels immediately nervous, as well as something he swears he’s never felt before. 

“Um. hello, are you-” He starts, but Satoru stands there almost unable to move. Immediately, he feels like he knows this man from somewhere. He seemed so familiar to Satoru - his voice, his face, his eyes, even though he knew that he didn’t know this man. “-Gojo?” He finally finishes, quietly, unsure if he remembered his name correctly. The way he says his name sounds like velvet. He wants to hear him say his name over and over again. 

“Yeah! Yeah, Satoru Gojo. But you can call me Satoru, if you want.” He says, breaking out of his thoughts, He sticks out his hand to shake it. Their hands meet in the middle and they both grip the other’s hand firmly. Both of their hands are warm, but Satoru feels like his hands are on fire. He smiles at the man in front of him, and he nods back, seemingly trying to put his name to memory. “What was your name again? Utahime told me but-” He trails off, waiting for the man to tell him his name. 

“Suguru Geto.” He says, a soft smile painted on his face.

“Nice to meet you, Suguru.” Satoru says, bravely using his first name. His palms start to feel sweaty as he steps back into his cubicle. He is silently kicking himself as Suguru stands there quietly. “So, you can grab Shoko’s chair from over there, if you want and bring it on over here and we’ll get started. Oh, and you can set your stuff in the cubicle in front of hers, that one is going to be yours.” He says, pointing at the cubicle diagonal from his. 

Suguru quickly sets his stuff down and decides to grab his chair instead of Shoko’s and wheels over to Satoru’s desk. “Good call, she might have killed me if she knew I told you to take her chair.” He smiles to himself towards his monitor as Suguru sits behind him, his jacket left behind in his cubicle, showing off his broad chest and shoulders in his grey button up.

“Yeah, definitely. That’s where Shoko sits?” Suguru asks, curiously.

“Yeah, um, do you know her?” Satoru asks, slightly confused as to why it sounds like Suguru knows who he’s talking about. He takes a silent deep breath, feeling his heart rate increase at seeing him without the jacket. Jesus Satoru, calm down he thinks to himself, waiting for Suguru to answer his question. 

“Um yeah, she’s actually the one that got me this job.” He responds softly.

“No way! I went to school with her, she got me this job too.” Satoru responds, sounding way too excited.

Suguru chuckles softly at Satoru’s excitement and of course Satoru notices. He doesn’t know why, but he wants to make him do it again. The sound was like music to his ears. He takes a quick deep breath and quickly changes the subject. “So! Should we get started?” He doesn’t know what’s come over him. Normally he’s an incredibly extroverted person and would have no problem talking to new people, but he doesn’t want to say something wrong this time, and he doesn’t know why but he’s nervous.

He tries to calm down and opens up the website on his computer that the company uses for training new employees. This is something he’s done enough that he doesn’t really have to think about it, which is good because he can’t stop thinking about where he could maybe, possibly know this man from. It’s driving him insane, the immediate connection he somehow feels to this person that he’s never met before. He feels the tops of his ears get hot. 

“Alright so, you get in here and I’ll sit behind you so you can see the monitor and work on the computer when you need to, and I can sit back here and mostly watch and answer questions if you need me to.” Satoru says, standing up and moving his chair to switch places with Suguru so that he can see the monitor better. Their arms brush up against each other in the tight cubicle space as they switch spots and Satoru feels like he’s going to lose his mind at the feeling.

He starts going through boring training videos and and every day procedures with him, trying to focus on training him for work, rather than just talking to him like normal. All he wants to do is learn about who this beautiful man is. Why would Shoko never tell me about him? Satoru thinks to himself as Suguru watches another video. Satoru sits behind him, organizing his drawer of pens to occupy himself until the video that he’s seen countless times comes to an end.

“So, is it all kinda making sense?” Satoru asks, closing the drawer and looking over at Suguru as he clicks to the next page. 

“Yeah, yeah, definitely. I think I’ll just need to do it a couple times and I’ll be good.” He shoots back, confidently. 

“Oh yeah, absolutely. You’re a natural.” Satoru says, earning a smile from Suguru, causing him to smile as well. “Okay, you can start the next video, but I’m gonna be right back, okay?” He stands up, putting both of his thumbs up as he creeps out of the cubicle. 

“I’ll be here.” Suguru says, putting one hand up as Gojo walks around the corner of his cubicle and out into the hallway that leads towards the bathroom. 

He quickly walks into the dark bathroom and the motion activated lights click on. He looks at himself in the mirror and takes a deep breath. “What the hell is your problem?” He whispers to himself in the mirror. He’s never felt this way about anyone except for this complete stranger. He wants to get to know him. He wants to get closer with him. He turns on the water and runs his hand under the cold water before holding it to his forehead and cheeks, trying to calm down. He takes another deep breath and runs his hand through his hair, fixing it, even though it didn’t need fixing. 

“Calm down stupid, you’ve known the man for an hour and a half. Keep it together.” He says quietly in the mirror to himself once again before leaving the bathroom and heading back to his cubicle to continue training Suguru. He rounds the corner and Suguru perks up once he sees that Satoru is back.

“Oh good, you’re back! I got stuck on this page and I didn’t want to mess anything up, so I waited for you to get back.” Sugaru says, pointing at the screen. Satoru walks up behind him and grabs hold onto the mouse, clicking around to see what's going on, bent down next to Suguru. He hadn't been this close to him yet, even when they shook hands, he couldn’t smell his cologne. He can now smell the warm scent of cashmere but also pine coming off of him as he leans down next to him. 

“Ugh I hate this thing. It signed us out, just a second.” Satoru says, before reaching in front of Suguru and pulling the keyboard to the side so that he could sign back in and they could keep working. Satoru sees Suguru sit back as he watches him get back to the place where they left off. Once he’s back, he slides the keyboard back in front of Suguru and pushes the mouse back to him. “There we go.” He says, slowly sitting back into his chair. 

“Thanks.” Suguru says softly before getting back to the training. 

The next hour and a half goes by without incident and thankfully without too much awkwardness between the two of them. Satoru is thankful for lunch so that he can get a break. He thinks about inviting Suguru to join him for lunch, but decides against it. He needs an hour to himself to think about why he’s feeling the way that he is, and what he thinks he’s going to do about it, if anything. 

“So, we get an hour for lunch, you can stay here, go somewhere, whatever.” Satoru says, explaining to Suguru as they close out the training. 

“Okay, thanks!” Suguru says, standing up and rolling his chair back to his cubicle. Satoru looks over as he puts his jacket on and walks out into the hallway. Gojo takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair, stretching his arms before standing up. He grabs his jacket and pulls it on before grabbing his phone and wallet and heading towards the front door. He pops his headphones in as he steps into the empty elevator and heads down to the lobby. 

He clicks play on the last song that was playing as the doors open to the busy lobby. Satoru heads straight for the main doors and out onto the street, where he puts on his sunglasses as he steps outside. He takes a right and heads towards his favorite cafe to go for lunch during his work week. The walk is only a couple of blocks, but the air is cold and it turns Satoru’s cheeks and nose a rosy pink with the chill of the wind. I should have invited him. Satoru thinks, shoving his hands into his pockets and picking up the pace in his walk to the cafe. He probably thinks I don’t like him. Why was I acting like such a weirdo? The thoughts cloud his mind the entire duration of his walk. 

He reaches out to pull the handle and the normal sound of the bell on the door makes its presence known as Satoru steps into the small cafe, gaining the attention of the young pink haired teenager behind the counter. “Hey Gojo!” He calls out as Satoru approaches the counter. “You want your usual?” He asks, already typing his normal order into the cash register. 

“Yes please!” He replies, “and can I also get one of these? Actually- two of those. If I don’t get one for Shoko, she’ll kill me.” He replies, pointing to the delicious looking cupcakes in the display case. 

“Alrighty then!.” The pink haired boy says, sliding open the case.

“Just you today, Yuji?” Gojo asks, pulling out his wallet while the total pops up on the screen in front of him on the counter.

“Yeah,” Yuji says with a sigh. “Megumi is off today, so just me!” He says, taking the cash that Satoru hands him. “No receipt, right?” Satoru shakes his head no, and Yuji crumples up the receipt and tosses it into the trash behind the counter. “Have a good rest of your day, Gojo!”

“You as well, Yuji.” He says in response as he grabs his food and heads to a table in the corner where he can sit down and relax for a bit before heading back to the office. He settles on his usual spot - the small table with two chairs in the back corner, and sits in the chair facing the front door so that he could once again people watch. He takes a bite of his sandwich before setting it back down and looking at his phone at a text from Utahime.

‘Geto is training for the rest of the day with Haibara once you’re back from lunch.’

Satoru reads this and feels relieved because now he can get his work done, but also disappointed that he wouldn’t get to be around Suguru for the rest of the day. He reacts to the message with a thumbs up and decides not to bother her anymore for once. He sets his phone down and looks up at the group of people that just came in from the street and he sees him. 

Shit shit shit shit. Satoru thinks to himself. Should I go say something? No! He has a quick mental battle with himself. He doesn’t want to bother him outside of work, but he wants so desperately to get to know who Suguru Geto is. He watches from behind his sunglasses as Suguru approaches the counter and interacts with Yuji. Satoru notices his smile is soft as he orders and pays. He looks around and that’s when Satoru picks up his phone and starts looking at it again, trying to avoid possibly making eye contact with him. 

Just from what Gojo can see in his periphery, Suguru seems to look around for a moment before he steps towards the front door and leaves the cafe, seemingly taking his food back to the office. Satoru breathes again as he realizes that he was holding his breath waiting to see what would happen. He wasn’t even sure what it was that he wanted to happen. If he would have noticed me, he would have said something, right? He thought to himself, sure that Suguru didn’t spot him over in the corner. 

Satoru realizes that his hands are sweaty and wipes them on his pants, hurriedly. It’s fine He thinks again. He tries to finish his sandwich, but ends up getting sick of it after a few bites and wraps it up to take back to the office along with his cupcakes for him and Shoko. He gives Yuji a wave as he steps out onto the street to start his walk back to the office, an upbeat song once again playing in his ears. 

He walks through the large front doors and heads towards the elevator, taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his jacket pocket. He steps into the elevator and immediately notices Shoko this time and calls out her name. 

“Oh, so you noticed me this time huh?” She teases as the doors close and they are the only two inside. He wants to ask her about Suguru, but he decides that it’s better that he doesn't - at least for now. 

“How was your meeting?” He responds, choosing to ignore her statement. He takes her deep sigh as her answer. “That bad, huh?” He asks, the elevator starting to quickly climb.

“It was just a bunch of old creepy men and I just kept getting talked over the whole time.” She says, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms, obviously annoyed. Satoru shakes his head, knowing that she’s not exaggerating. He’s been in those meetings and they just don’t care to hear what she has to say. It’s extremely frustrating and he tries his best to help when he’s there. 

“Well… It’s not that much, but I got you a little treat.” He says, handing the cupcake box to her as the elevator reaches the 36th floor and comes to a stop. Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open in a smile as she reaches out and grabs the small box.

The elevator doors open and they step out, walking down the hallway together. Satoru uses his key card and opens the door once again, following Shoko inside. Satoru heads straight back to his cubicle to see if Suguru is at his desk. To his disappointment, he isn’t. Satoru sits down at his desk and unlocks his computer to get working on his presentation for later in the month. He checks his email and sees that thankfully, the marketing department sent him all of their reports that he needed for his presentation. He hears Shoko sit back down into her chair as he’s working diligently. 

“Where’s your trainee?” He hears Shoko say over the sound of the music in his ear. He takes out his headphone and turns his head.

“He’s with Yu for the rest of the day. Guess they want him to learn different positions.” He says, and it comes out more disappointed sounding than he meant it to. “I’m just happy they’re giving me time to focus on my own work. I’m more behind now, but I think I can catch up by the end of the day if I just focus.” He says, turning his head back to the monitor in front of him. 

He doesn’t see Shoko raise her eyebrows at his change in attitude all of a sudden. She grabs a pen and a sticky note and writes “Do Not Disturb! Satoru Gojo hard at work! >:(” and rolls across the aisle, sticking it to the outside of his cubicle with a smile on her face that goes completely unnoticed by Satoru. 

The final hours of the day slip by faster than Satoru would have liked, but he feels good with where he’s left off on his work. He leans back in his chair and stretches his arms out before glancing over at Suguru’s cubicle once more, only to see it still empty. Hmph. He lets out quietly, hoping that he would be able to say goodbye at least before heading home for the day. He looks over to see Shoko is long gone, her computer already off and monitor black. He smiles to himself as he stands up, grabbing his jacket off of the back of his chair and throwing it on before grabbing his bag from underneath his desk and slinging it over his shoulder. He grabs his empty coffee cup from the morning and finally tosses it into the garbage on his way out the door. 

Satoru takes one last look around to see if he notices Suguru anywhere, but he’s nowhere to be seen. He’s probably gone home idiot. He thinks to himself, looking down at his watch. The day was technically over 15 minutes ago. He walks out the front door, saying goodbye to lingering coworkers on his way out. He makes sure to grab his sandwich from the fridge and shoves it into his bag, making sure to grab his cupcake as well.

For the last time of the day, he steps into the elevator, alone this time, and pops his headphones in, ready for the commute home. The elevator makes a couple stops to pick up people from other floors also on their way down, but the ride isn’t too long to the lobby. Satoru steps out of the elevator and makes his way towards the front doors. He begins his short walk back to the train station, once again walking to the beat of the music playing in his ears.  

He sees the train is already at the station as he’s walking up, and he begins to take a bit longer strides as he tries not to miss the train, but eventually, just misses it.

“Shit.” He hisses as he looks around for an open bench to wait on. A woman and her son sit on the bench directly behind him, so he finds an empty one slightly further down the station and sits down. He decides to text Utahime, who is probably still at the office.

‘Hiii Utahime, Just wondering if I was going to be training him again tomorrow morning :)’

He clicks send and almost immediately the three bubbles pop up to indicate that she’s typing. 

‘Yeah, he said that he liked training with you, which surprised me. Now leave me alone and go home.’

Satoru feels his face get red. He what? He thinks, a smile creeping onto his face. Don’t be crazy. With a stupidly excited grin, he rubs along his jaw, bringing his bottom lip in between hit teeth to try to bite back his smile. He can’t help but read the text over and over again to make sure that he understood correctly, and no matter how many times he reads it, it’s always the same message. He liked training with me? A voice comes over the speaker announcing that the train will soon be arriving in the station. Satoru stands up, straightening out his jacket while trying to suppress the goofy smile on his face. 

He steps onto the train and picks a seat close to the door. His short train ride was of course filled with people watching and imagining what their days are like. Finally, his stop arrives and he steps back out into the cool air and begins his walk back to his apartment. He can’t stop smiling to himself on the way home, just excited to go back and see him the next day. 

I have to invite him to lunch. He thinks to himself. They went to the same cafe, it was only polite to, right? Satoru opens the front door of his building and heads towards the elevator. He clicks the up arrow and waits for the ding and the doors slowly open. He steps inside the empty elevator and clicks the button for the 36th floor - same as the office, funnily enough. It makes it really easy to remember where you live and work when it’s the same number. He enjoyed being up so high, able to see all the beautiful lights of the city of Tokyo from his home. 

Satoru grabs his keys out of his pocket as he approaches his door, and easily unlocks the door without any trouble. He steps inside and calls out. “Shiro, I’m home!” He hears a small meow followed by a thud and the patter of paws padding out to greet him. “There’s my girl! Are you hungry?” She responds with a meow as Satoru sets his bag down and kicks off his shoes before stepping towards the kitchen and pulling out a can of wet food for the cat. A constant stream of meows fill the room until Satoru finally sets down the food for her. “Yeah yeah! I’m getting there!” He calls out to her as she yowls up at him from his feet. He sets down the bowl in its normal spot and Shiro digs in. “You act like you’ve never eaten before.” He says as he picks up his bag and shoes and heads into his bedroom. He sets his shoes back in their spot and hangs his bag on the hook on the back of his door. 

Satoru starts by taking off his jacket and hanging it up, followed by shedding the rest of his suit and clothing down to nothing but his underwear. He walks out of the closet, taking a quick look in the mirror with a smile on his way by to the bathroom. He turns on the shower and stands there while it heats up, thinking about his day, about how good this shower was going to feel, about Suguru. He takes a deep breath before shedding his final layer and stepping into the steamy shower. He lets the hot water run down over his hair and face before he rubs his face with his hands, still smiling over the day.

“You need to chill out.” He says out loud to himself in the shower. He runs his fingers through his hair and goes through the normal order of things in his after-work shower. He takes a deep breath and tries to relax his muscles as the hot water runs over his shoulders and down his back. The pressure of the water feeling good on his back, which is sore from sitting in his chair hunched over all day. He closes his eyes and lets the water run over his tired muscles for a minute before finally turning around and turning the water off. He shakes his hands through his hair, trying to get as much water out as possible. 

Satoru grabs his towel from the hook on the wall and uses it to dry off before wrapping it low around his waist. He opens the bathroom door and makes his way over to his dresser to pull out some sweat pants and a black tshirt. 

After putting on his moisturizer and getting redressed after his shower, Satoru makes his way back out into the kitchen. “What should I have for dinner, Shi?” He asks the fluffy cat, but mostly to himself as he opens the fridge to check what he has. After checking the pantry, he decides that he has the correct ingredients to make some lemon pepper salmon with rice, so he starts pulling out ingredients and in less than an hour later, he’s plating up and setting it on his dining room table. He takes a quick picture, satisfied with his work before he sits down and starts eating. 

“This is delicious!” He says into the empty apartment to himself. He smiles to himself as he finishes up his dinner and decides to wind down by watching something in the living room. He turns the tv on and picks up his phone before queuing anything up and sees a text from Shoko.

‘You didn’t tell me that you were training Geto!!!�� 

He reads the text and his heart rate immediately picks up again. Is he talking about me to Shoko? Races through his mind and he begins typing a response. 

‘You never asked ¯\_(ツ)_/¯’ He clicks send and immediately sees Shoko typing. He didn’t think to mention that he had in fact mentioned that he knew her. Not only that, but that she got him the job, similarly to how she had also gotten him the job. 

‘Dude!!!’

Satoru is confused as to what she’s getting at.

‘???’ He sends back.

‘Why didn’t you tell me??’

‘Idk, didn’t really realize that I needed to.’

‘Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow!’ She finishes with. 

“Weirdo.” Satoru says out loud to himself before setting his phone to the side and picking a random movie from his collection and pressing play, just to have something playing. He props his feet up on the coffee table and interlocks his fingers behind his head as he sits back, thinking about Suguru once again. He stares up at the ceiling, remembering how nice he smelled, how nice he looked. He feels a soft movement from the other side of the couch as Shiro makes her way over to plop herself down right on Satoru’s lap. 

“What the hell am I gonna do, Shi?” He asks, still looking up at the ceiling before bringing down one of his hands to pet the cat, who was happily leaning into the pets that she was getting. He smiles down at the fluffy white cat in his lap and paints his attention back up to the tv where his movie continued to play. Satoru spends his Monday evening watching movies and eating the cupcake from his favorite cafe, all while being unable to stop thinking about Suguru Geto.

About three movies and enough sugar to send a child into a sugar rush, Satoru looks at this phone once again. Empty of notifications and the time reads 10:31. “Guess I should get ready for bed, huh baby?” He says as the cat follows him into his bedroom. He flicks off the lamps as he walks by, leaving his living room lit up by nothing but the moon and the lights of downtown Tokyo down below. He turns on the lamp on his nightstand before stepping into the bathroom for one last time to brush his teeth. 

He walks out of the bathroom over to his windows. He sits down for a moment in the arm chair in the corner of his room and looks out the window. He enjoyed doing this before bed, just to relax a little bit. He liked to think about all the lives of everyone he could see from his window. Every person he can see has their own life that he will never know about. Satoru takes one last look at the busy street below and stands up and walks slowly over to his bed, yawning as he does so.

Pulling back the comforter, he climbs into his bed. Shiro jumps onto the bed and lays down close to his feet. Satoru throws the comforter over himself and grabs his phone from the nightstand, turning off the lamp as well. He opens up his text message with Utahime one more time just to smile and read that Suguru enjoyed being with him today. He thinks once more about how he also had mentioned him to Shoko. Satoru makes sure his alarms are set for the morning before turning on some brown noise to help him sleep. 

Last, Satoru sets his phone on the night stand and can’t help but smile excitedly into his pillow. He was excited for the day ahead of him for tomorrow. Finally, something to look forward to outside of the monotony of a typically boring office job. 

chapter 2

[nyaagolor]

Finding SV Character Heights Part 1

Procrastination leads to wonderful places, and for me that's "hey what if I could get rough estimates for canon heights using the ingame models?" So I did! Unfortunately, this post got long so I only included the heights of a few major characters for now. Teachers, Gym Leaders + League, and Team Star will be in separate posts!

Protagonist: 5'0" Nemona: 5'8" Penny: 5'1" Arven: 5'7" Clavell: 5'7" Sada: 5'9" Turo: 6'1"

I used imageJ / Fiji for analysis and some screenshots from MunchingOrange's playthrough of the game on youtube. I explain the process and attached all the screenshots under the cut so you can judge the legitimacy of my "math" yourself!

A quick overview of how I did this: there's a (free to use) software called Fiji made for processing images (google Fiji ImageJ and it'll be the first link). It's used in a lot of data analysis, which is mostly what I use it for, but it has some fun features to play around with too. (if people want a tutorial lmk I'd be happy to write one up). The most important part for our purposes is the measure function-- if you draw a line on an image, it will tell you how long that line is in pixels. This line can be straight, curved, angled in any direction, or even multi-segmented, making it pretty good for comparing things. Then all I had to do was get images of characters standing next to each other-- from there I could transitive property my way to the height of every character in the game!

First step was getting a good basis for comparison-- I can easily get ratios of character heights but without at least one confirmed height I can't translate it into real world metrics. Since the characters themselves don't have canon heights, it had to be a pokemon. This introduced another problem, which is that in SV, pokemon are varying sizes within a species, so I can't count on the overworld models to work. Plus, some of them aren't even accurate!

However, there was one pokemon I could compare to the protagonist pretty easily whose height was a little less skeptical: the main legendary (koraidon in my case). A few cursory comparisons led me to guess that Koraidon's 8'2" "height" is measured from head to toe while standing in apex form. Anything else gives heights of characters that make zero real world sense so this is what I went with in the end. Thus we get the screenshot that starts it all!

Koraidon's head is bowed, but this was the closest I could get so I guesstimated that the top of the blue ridges was about where Koraidon's head would be. Knowing that Koraidon is 8'2", we get the following heights:

Koraidon: 536 pixels - 98 inches - 8'2" Protagonist: 328 pixels - 60 inches - 5'0" Nemona: 372 pixels - 68 inches - 5'8"

Thus far it looks like we're on the right track! Assuming the protagonist is 14 and Nemona is 16/17, these heights seem pretty normal. Knowing the protagonist's height gives us the ability to find out most other characters, so we're off to a good start!

(side note: the calculation I used to turn pixels into inches was pixels1 / inch1 = pixels2 / inch2. The pixels we can get from the lines on the images, and the inches we know from Koraidon's pokedex entry, so we just solve for inch2)

Next up is Clavell (mostly because he showed up first). Something interesting is that he's actually slightly shorter than Nemona, you can see it in the first cutscene in front of Nemona's house (i can add a screenshot in the reblogs / replies but didn't want to clog the post with another image). From this image, we can find:

Protagonist: 685 pixels - 60 inches - 5'0" Clavell: 769 pixels - 67 inches - 5'7"

You heard it here first, the director is a short king

Next up is Arven!

Protagonist: 782 pixels - 60 inches - 5'0" Arven: 880 pixels - 67 inches - 5'7"

(The math actually says Arven is 5'7.5", but I'm not bothering with decimals. This makes him sliiiiiiightly taller than Clavell)

Penny is seen angled from the protagonist in her intro scenes, so I skipped all the way to her boss battle to find a good screenshot. To my surprise, she's actually slightly taller than the protagonist!

Protagonist: 368 pixels - 60 inches - 5'0" Penny: 376 pixels - 61 inches - 5'1"

(Side note 2: Characters are measured from their heels to the crown of their head-- if they have really big hair it doesn't count as part of their height)

Last one in this round is the professor (Sada in my case, as I'm using a Scarlet playthrough for screenshots). I'm gonna assume that the AI and Professor are the same height for this

Protagonist: 507 pixels - 60 inches - 5'0" Sada: 584 pixels - 69 inches (nice) - 5'9"

Turo forced me to use a different playthrough to grab a screenshot, which used a female protagonist. I'm fairly positive that the male and female protagonist models are the exact same height (if not the exact same model) so I don't think there's any snags with this, but if anyone knows otherwise lmk. Btw, I used the playthrough by Rubhen925 for this screenshot!

Protagonist: 501 pixels - 60 inches - 5'0" Turo: 611 pixels - 73 inches - 6'1"

Turo is pretty damn tall :0 !

This post is getting absurdly long, so I'm going to make separate posts for the League / Gym Leaders, Team Star, and the teachers! Hope you've enjoyed, and if there's any specific trainer class or other character you wanna know the height of just lmk :) I also plan on making a post of some more silly measurements (like the exact dimensions of Penny's backpack, the proportion of Geeta's height that's just her legs, the size of Arven's camping bag and whether or not his friends could reasonably curl up inside, etc)

[ryttu3k]

Home again! Goddamn. Amazing.

Line to get in was long, but ended up working out okay for me for a few reasons - most people who got there early wanted the floor, not the seats. A ton of people, when they got in, made a beeline for the merch stands (or bar), whereas I glanced at them, winced at the prices, and decided to think about it a bit longer. And, because I was on my own, there was a single seat front row, near the middle of the central stand. Handy! But yeah, otherwise, get there early to get a good position, especially if you want to be right at the front of the floor.

Set list (with some notes)! Videos uploaded by Maneskondominio on Youtube linked where applicable, plus a couple from other shows. Unsurprisingly, given that this is the Rush! tour, most songs were from that (13, including all five of the new ones). There were also five from Teatro d'Ira vol 1 (Zitti e Buoni, Coraline, For Your Love, I Wanna Be Your Slave, and Il Nome del Padre), and two covers (Beggin' and Are You Gonna Be My Girl). No Il Ballo Della Vita, alas.

Languages: only counting IWBYS once, there were three songs in Italian (Zitti e Buoni, Coraline, and Il Nome del Padre), and seventeen in English. I would have loved to see La Fine or Mark Chapman (especially the former, it's my favourite on the album after Mammamia), but what we did get was damn good.

On to the list! Do not watch the videos if photosensitive. There is a lot of strobing and flashing!

Don't Wanna Sleep

Gossip

Zitti e Buoni (got a huge response from the crowd!)

Honey! (Are U Coming?) (short video)

Supermodel

Coraline

Beggin' (short video - Vic moving through the crowd)

The Driver (video also includes Valentine)

For Your Love

Valentine (see above for video!)

Instrumental thing

Gasoline

A quick pause to move! There was a smaller acoustic stage set up right at the back of the floor area; Damiano, Thomas, and Ethan (with a guitar!) made their way up. This was, most appreciably, only about 5m from where I was sitting ;D (Although I only really saw their backs.)

Trastevere

After this, Ethan left; Damiano said that normally they'd play Time Zone here, but felt like doing something a bit harder, and especially appropriate for Australia - a cover of Jet's Are You Gonna Be My Girl.

(If you can see me in the video, no you can't ;D)

Back on the main stage, while Damiano and Thomas made their way back, Vic and Ethan did this goddamn cool solo. Can't find a video from last night, but here's one from an earlier performance.

Everyone back on!

I Wanna Be Your Slave

Mammamia (short video, Thomas crowdsurfing)

Off My Face (only their second time performing it live, ever!)

Il Nome del Padre (short video)

Bla Bla Bla (short video of Damiano making out with the blow-up doll someone had been toting around. The video cuts off his words - "I'm 100% that somebody put his dick inside that doll. Um, I kissed it, so. Whatever. I just gave someone a blowjob.")

Kool Kids (with audience members, short video)

Then, for the encore, starts off with Thomas doing a blistering solo. Again, no videos from last night, so here's an earlier one from Milan.

The Loneliest

I Wanna Be Your Slave reprise (short video of the jump-up part)

Anyway. If you like Måneskin and are ever in a position to see them live? Do it. Do it.

...And yeah I caved and got the tour shirt. Worth it!

[academyofbrokenhearts]

Of Reality and Late Night Confessions (III)

Suna and Kaya talk, and finally reach a mutual understanding.

Author note: Probably the most OOC chapter in the entire saga, but whatever, friends. I didn't put "confessions" in the damn title for nothing. Enjoy!

AO3 link here.

When Kaya doesn't immediately react to her words, her mind is jumping to the worst possible outcome. She has somehow misinterpreted things, her words bothered him, his attraction to her is merely physical (maybe that's what he meant by not marrying her for revenge purposes?), and she is already thinking on how to apologise, how to take it all back.

Yet he is still holding her, his body completely lacking any tension, so she opens her eyes, and sees it.

He's smiling.

"I was hoping I would hear this from you someday," he says. "I just didn't expect it to happen so soon."

"So then... I did not get it wrong?" she asks, her heart beating wildly in her chest. "You like me?"

"Oh man," Kaya says, hiding his face in her shoulder. "I really thought it would be obvious by now. Are you trying to tell me that this entire time, you worried about my feelings on top of yours?"

When Suna does not answer (because really, it's unsettling how he can read her so well), he raises his head and looks at her again, in utter surprise:

"Oh, you did. I cannot believe it."

"It's really unfair," she mumbles, looking away, embarrassment burning her cheeks. "How come my brain is like an open book to you, and most of the time I can't get you at all?"

"Well," he says, and his voice is gentle. "Comes with practice. Besides, it's not like I am not prone to errors."

Not with her, not normally, Suna thinks. Most of the time, he can understand her instinctively, and she never feels the need to explain her thoughts to him in detail. But she knows she is not going to be able to feel secure just assuming and deducting things, the way he does. That's not how she works. She tends to worry and overthink to the point of anxiety, and what good would that be?

"Kaya," she speaks, turning her head towards him. "If I ask you some questions, will you answer them? I really need to have a proper talk with you. Actually, that was my intention, before..."

"Before you got overwhelmed by my good looks, and had your way with me," he says, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Shut up, I'm serious."

"I know, Suna, I was just messing around. Sure, of course we can talk. But first, do you mind if I take another shower? You can join me too if you want."

"Sure thing," she answers, like it's something they did thousand of times before, and she doesn't even blush when saying it.

That finally shuts him up.

*

He does not touch her in any way in the shower, except when he helps her wash her back. She thanks him with a quick peck on the cheek, and he groans.

"Don't get too close," he says, turning off the water, and hopping out of the shower. "I'm a bit tired, but I'm not too tired for that, and before you know it, there goes the talk we're supposed to have."

She rolls her eyes, but follows suit, mumbling a quick thanks when he finishes wiping off and hands her the towel. By the time she also dries off and puts on her panties, he is already half dressed, and she pauses for a moment, trying to remember where she left her actual clothes.

"Here," he then says with a smirk, handing her his t-shirt. "Since you like it so much, keep wearing it."

"Have you always been this annoying, or is this a recent development?" she asks, but without actual malice, as she's getting dressed.

"I'm sorry, were you saying something? I was looking at your legs and got distracted. Was it important?"

"Okay, definitely a recent development," she comments, opening the door and stepping into the room. "You're prettier when you shut up, by the way."

"Oh, so we're fully back in our flirting era," he replies, laughing, and she smiles at him in turn, before climbing into bed. He follows suit, putting his head in her lap when she gestures towards him to come closer, and they sit in comfortable silence for a while, her playing with his hair, him caressing her bare legs.

"Just promise me you will be answering me openly and honestly," she says, eventually. "I know you said it's not easy for you to talk, to open up, but there is something I need to know, for my own peace of mind."

"Ask away."

"Since when did you like me?"

There is a small pause, then he responds, and she can't really see his expression, but she can guess it from the softness in his voice:

"Like? I liked you in Marmaris. Hell, I think I actually liked you from the moment you opened that door and stood in front of me for the first time, and judged my tattoos, my clothes, and my entire existence in general. But now that I got to know you better, I think I can safely say that this is more than just me liking you. You heard me loud and clear earlier, I wasn't saying what I said just because I was caught up in the moment or anything."

"Wait a second," Suna says. "Does that mean you liked me when you proposed to me the second time? You said nothing of the sort back then."

"Yeah, because you would have hit me with a chair."

"I wouldn't have done such a thing," she protests, but when he sits upright, raising an eyebrow at her, she sighs in defeat. "Okay, maybe I wouldn't have hit you with a chair, as you put it, but I would have probably told you to get out and never speak to me again."

"Which is why I did not say it. I figured, well, I was the one at fault, I wanted to make amends, but it was very important for me to get you to forgive me and accept me again. I thought... oh hell, whatever, it's confession time, isn't it? I thought that maybe you would realise I wasn't that bad, and I could get you to truly like me."

He looks so vulnerable and boyish, that she can't help but taking him into her arms, and he hugs her in return, holding her tight.

"I was very hurt back then," she whispers. "After I heard you talking to your mother. Very, very hurt. But after what you told me last night... I can't even begin to fathom how hard it must have been for you. And I meant it, you know? Last night, when I told you I will be here for you. I'll do it. I'll help you take care of your mother. I'll be here to listen when everything becomes too much. You just need to say the word."

"Damn," he says, almost choking on his words. "I never thought someone would say that to me ever. Never even dreamed of it."

She manages to catch a glimpse of his face, enough to see the tears in his eyes, right before he kisses her. It's long, and sweet, and when their lips finally part, she gently wipes his wet cheeks, and in spite of his still obvious emotion, he does manage to smile.

That night, they go to sleep holding each other tight, and all nightmares are forgotten.

[chuuyanaurkahara]

Azrael Lore

this is almost word for word copied from my notes<3 (only stuff that's italics is added for additional info)

----

Basic stuff

Azrael is a 19 year old sadistic serialkiller. Due to his rather young age (in this world you're an adult once you reach the 20 year of your life due to the world being in fucking shambles otherwise) he didn't get sent to prison. Instead, four of his six arms got cut off(more of that later) and he was linked to a device that made it impossible for him to use any magic that he could potentially harm anyone with. This means he can barely use any magic, because most can be harmful.

This device allowed him to only practice song magic, as there is no known way of it being harmful. Somehow, Azrael still managed to make it dangerous. He hides this though, because he doesn't want to lose the last bit of magic he has. Someone without magic is useless to him, even if that someone is himself.

Because he isn't a full adult yet, the government enrolled him at Lasdayle High, a higher school (for problem kids). He's in class 5B alongside other 18-19 year olds. His location is streamed to the government 24/7.

If he leaves his allowed location (the entire school grounds) without notifying someone, he (forcefully) gets pulled back.

He sees friends as a burden, which is the reason why he never talked to anyone in his class. This behaviour quickly got him the nickname 'Silent Siren'. He doesn't mind the nickname. It's better than freak, monster, and whatever other things he has been called. His classmates are not aware of his past/what he did before he got into this school and think he perform exclusively song magic because he likes it.

Personality or stuff like that

Azrael is a quick learner. He can easily learn one's mannerisms and look through their facades. He mastered song magic withing months(it normally takes years to master one magic) and created many new techniques for the magic types he previously used(no i will not elaborate). He never shares these techniques. No one should just take his hard work.

He seems to lack common emotions, although he just keeps them inside very well. Azrael has possessive and jealous tendencies. If something belongs to him, it's his and no one else is allowed to have it.

He's also very mean to strangers. That way they won't interact with him. Social contact typically drains his energy. Despite his violent 'hobbies', he's unnaturally calm most of the time. He won't snap that easily, it takes several annoying variables(or one Ellie) for him to do.

He would rather slit his neck with a rusty knife than admit he was wrong. Authorities had to stop him several times from doing so.

After his arrest he is extra careful and thinks everything through at least thrice. He can't allow himself to make any more mistakes.

MF laughed when he was arrested though. He didn’t accept his failure that easily and even without magic and restrained arms and hands managed to severely hurt some police officers.

He is openly pansexual. Open in a way where you notice a tiny sticker on his notebook. If you ask him about it, he'll nonchalantly tell you he's pan.

He technically can't feel physical pain. He feels the pressure and stuff like that, but the pain itself is just not there.

He takes joy in hurting other people and/or animals. If none of these are available at the moment, he takes the next best option; himself. He just likes blood. Scars litter his body because of that (and many other reasons).

Appearance

Azrael is a 1.93metres tall individual. He has pale skin and scars that range from small to big litter his whole body(as previously stated). It is unclear where he got them from, but it is speculated that he himself was the cause of most, be it accidental or not.

He previously had two extra sets of arms(so 6 arms in total), which were forcefully removed due to the fear that Azrael may cause harm with them. Yes, the process probably was painful and no, it was not necessary to do that. Sometimes he'll forget he doesn't have the extra pairs anymore and drop stuff because he is used to switching an item between hands. He dropped so much glass and porcelain, he'd rather not pick up stuff that breaks easily. The person who amputated his extras(Jesdare, a very famous healer) also cursed him so he can't grow them back. The amputation left some very nasty scars.

Azrael has long, dark blue hair. It reaches down to about his lower back. Don't talk about how it conveniently covers the ugly amputation scars.

He almost never smiles. If he smiles for no apparent reason, run, he's planning something and you're the victim. Azrael has small fangs, which, despite their size, can still hury very fucking much.

He has red-brown eyes that, with the help of his never smiling mouth, give him a resting bitch face. No one of his classmates ever saw him blink. They are convinced he doesn't have eyelids. This got disproven when one classmate pointed out that Azrael has closed his eyes on a few occasions. He can sleep without closing his eyes.

Everything he wears has to be government approved. He usually wears a dark grey button-up and black pants.

Friends and other Relations

His family was killed by someone. He already killed that asshole though, so it's fine. His family all had extra arms. He was very attached to his (older) sister and her death hit him the hardest. He was five when his family got murdered. (His sister was seven and his parents both were 27 years old)

Azrael's probably first friend is Gloria. The woman(also 19) started their friendship. After she found out he was a serial killer, she didn’t react so okey-dokey and stopped talking to him for weeks. They were friends again once Azrael beat up Gloria's bully. She is still cautious around him though.

Dani(17 years) was his second friend. At first, they pretended to be friends, to piss of Dani's father. Then a real friendshipᵀᴹ formed. Eventually they developed feeling for eachother. In public they don’t really make it clear they're in a relationship but in private they are very sweet.

Sally(18 years) and Azrael are pretty similar. They got friends rather quickly. The only difference between them is that Sally isn’t a sadistic psycho with a long history of violence. And she's a literal demon. Otherwise they're pretty similar. They like (playfully) making fun of Lou and Ellie.

He can't stand Ellie(17 years) She's just very annoying in his opinion. Everytime she opens that stupid mouth of hers, Azrael wants to break her jaw off, so he doesn't have to hear her annoying voice. He mostly avoids the 17 year old which is hard when he wants to talk to Dani, because the two always seem to be together. Azrael is very good at keeping his act though, but he might have to unwind in his dorm after longer interactions. Unwinding can include punching his punching bag until is hands bleed, going to sleep or cuddling with Dani.

He actually doesn't mind Lou. If Azrael (playfully) bullies him, it's either because he 100% deserves it, or just 'cause. If they manage to get along though, they will cause chaos and be chaotic little shits. If Azrael's already in a bad mood, Lou's just as annoying as Ellie though.

slight nsfw/suggestive stuff coming up, skip if you're uncomfortable with that

He's not a virgin and personally made sure Dani isn’t one either. He likes tying down his partner during, well uh. intimate. moments. Maybe a bit of knife play, if the other's into it. Seeing his partner tied down, completely messed up, small tears pricking their eyes and maybe some dried tears on their red cheeks always gets him. That stuff is so fucking hot to him. He usually isn't very cuddly and stuff, but he give good hugs and kisses, etc. As previously stated, he can get extremely jealous though.

[brionnnne]

okay, so i can't draw for shit otherwise i WOULD but i've got the images up in the brain so you are just gonna need to follow me as best as you can here. sorry. trust the process, as they say ! using their sin colors btw—blue for lucifer, red for beel & so on; also not in rank order.

Mammon is one of the ones that rings true as is. He's slim-fit. Thin, athletic build. More on the side of a surfers' / runners' / bikers' body. He doesn't have too much in the way of muscle definition most of the time, unless he's actively working on it for an issue, and I just don't really see him doing heavier workouts most of the time Nothing like what Beel does. Mammon does cardio. He's a cardio man to me. His body isn't always consistent, depending on if he's doing anything in any given time – modeling, for one – but I think his metabolism is high, so he's always pretty thin, anyway; his body is versatile, which is part of the appeal. He's normally thin, can bulk up easy, but stays at a good baseline; makes him very appealing for modeling agencies. His 'resting body,' to me, is exactly what it was in that one chat where he tried to show off his muscles. See:

If Mammon is working out for a magazine issue or something, he can shape up pretty quick; they all could, really—something about a demon's constitution would make it easier for them, I think. He's only ever a tad bit more defined than this, though, I imagine, because once again, he doesn't really push his body to the limit. Asmo is the other brother who rings mostly true. He's thin. He's got a slutty, snatched waist. Grabbable. I imagine he wears corsets as a part of his regular outfit, whether they're seen or not. He falls more on the side of feminine, and he embraces it easily. He has a body that, I feel like, might throw someone if they were to look from the legs up. Does he skip leg day? Eh. The most exercise he does on a regular basis, I think, is walking with multitudes of shopping bags and boxes—if he isn't having someone else *cough* Solomon *cough* carry them for him. His upper body is a bit more defined than his lower. His legs are long, and I think, besides the waist, they've also got a very femme quality to them that he prefers. See:

This makes him look fantastic in heels, and he loves that. Like Mammon, his exercise activities are limited to cardio, if he does any to begin with. He absolutely hates to sweat, so I think he does very little in the way of that. Laziest brother; canon. He cycles in the gym, and he swims. You can only get him to do a couple push-ups before he sneers at the sweat on his brow and takes an hour-long bath. His arms are healthy; only lightly defined. He doesn't have much in the way of abs because he doesn't prefer them on himself. However, I think his chest is solid in the way of a swimmer. Of someone who would never lift a weight in their life. He's incredibly fussy for himself and I just see him finding things like that barbaric. He'd cheer on Beel without issue but then if you tried to get him to lift a weight he'd scowl as if personally insulted: Eugh. It's sweaty. Disgusting! I just got my nails done. Anything if it means he doesn't have to do it. He is a great swimmer, although he's not better than Levi — all the exercise and none of the sweat? Très magnifique~♡!

Belphegor. My favorite brother. Fellow slutty-waist haver. He's thin. Think L from Death Note. Ref. Link: one, two. Remember Asmodeus' lack of definition? Yeah, well, this man has even less. He's capable of working out and pushing himself—or just plain working, really. [Consider: The Buffing Up Belphie SSR; that time he went to work at Hell's Kitchen and seemed pretty happy about it]. Generally, though, he just doesn't care— Sloth, y'know? I think he has a high metabolism – a fact that can be kind of infuriating to Asmo and Levi, both of which I think lie more around the middle somewhere [Asmo barely ever puts on much weight; he's much more active than Levi – I'll get into that one next, though]. Anyway...

[Picture added for continuity.] Much like his schoolwork, Belphegor doesn't have to try with his weight. He doesn't eat very much already; tends towards snacks and easier to eat foods. He's also absent-minded enough to just forget between back-to-back sleep sessions. He's the type [similar to Levi/Lucifer] that you need to remind to eat. Yeah. He's just very thin; little fat and like no muscle definition. He's not frail; surprisingly strong, actually—for him, anyway. Has a killer grip. haha. But he definitely looks frail. Probably never had a muscle in his whole fuckin' life. Maybe back in the Celestial Realm, but there's no evidence of it now. I'm gonna bite him.

Leviathan! I just feel like he's not that shredded. Granted, they make, like, everyone shredded. But he especially doesn't read as being that fit, at least. He's the Grand Admiral of Hell's Navy, so I think he's definitely capable. He's got it in him to be shredded. But is he normally? When he isn't, say, on active duty? I don't think so, personally. To me, Levi is thin. He's a swimmer. The best. He's bound to fall on the side of thin. At the same time, I don't think it's particularly hard for him to gain fat in a period where he's totally lax. I believe his 'resting body' is on the side of chubby. [Belphie & Asmo aren't listed as having 'resting bodies', by the way, because Belphegor is always resting, and Asmodeus ...he relaxes, sure, he's leisurely, taking pleasure wherever he can, still— there's no way he would slack when it comes to his image. He's at least walking regularly, if nothing else]. Besides the point. Levi can burn off any accumulated fat easily when he puts in the effort, either when working in the Navy, or if he's playing a lot of fitness games within a certain time period; Wii Sports, Ring Fit. To me, this is still Levi:

But what about when Levi isn't this? He's a bit of a pudgy boy, I think. You can tell if he's not been too active because a portion of the weight goes to his face. He looks a bit cherubic, in that case. He's not really fond of it on himself, [his brothers make comments] which is why, when he's off regular duty, he tends to intersperse inactivity and snacking with a handful of fitness games. Again: It's not hard for any of them to get shredded, I think—they are simply built different, right? But for Leviathan, who eats on a more regular schedule than Belphegor, and because he has muscle and a slower metabolism, I think if he's idle for long, he tends to put on weight.

Whose shredded? Beel is shredded. I heard Beel has an eight-pack. Built like a brick shithouse, that man. His muscles are built on fat. He's not slim-fit, like the others. He's thick-fit. My boy is huge. His body in the game is ...fine ? Not bad, sure, but ...not my Beelzebabe.

There's nothing wrong with this, of course, but rather, I think of Beel as a big, bulky guy—a beefcake in my heart. Like, he has a tummy. 100%. Look at the bodies of men in the World's Strongest Man competitions. That's how I see Beel. Pretty boy, strong man. Big himbo. He eats very frequently; works out heavily and consistently. Strong enough to smash a wall. He could look like that, but does he? Honestly, I sort of think even having a fairly high metabolism wouldn't really stop him from gaining weight, it'd slow down the rate at which he'd gain, but genuinely, his intake of food is so fucking huge that I don't think any body would be able to keep up.

Lucifer is a dad ...so does he have a dad bod? Questions, questions. I have a hard time feeling this one out, honestly. I think he'd care about his body sort of similarly to Asmo. For Lucifer, though, it's a pride thing rather than an aesthetic one. Does he look like this?

Eh. I think he tries. Keyword. He's working a lot on a regular basis, and I think his body, any muscle training, etc., would lag behind ? He doesn't eat much, either. At assigned times, mostly. Breakfast. Dinner. He's likely to skip lunch in favor of work, even if he is actually hungry — unless Diavolo drags him out, of course. For comparison, I think Belphegor might be hungry less, compared to Lucifer, who is, but skips a meal anyway because he's "too busy." The kind of guy who will insist: "I'll eat later" but then gets so tangled up that he forgets until dinner. Bel would skip a meal because he's absent minded / tired, whereas Luci would skip over food intentionally if it meant getting things done faster. He works out, I think. A little bit of everything. Cardio, weight training, etc., at least publicly—and then I think he secretly does corny shit like Jazzercise [old man], especially because it's something he can keep up in the privacy of his own room and it doesn't necessarily look as if he's trying too hard on the outside. Asmodeus is jealous of him, too [doesn't know about the dancercise; would join if so]. Levi, as well [knows; keeps it a secret]. Lucifer can easily get out of shape if he's not careful, though, and I think his work takes precedence over his physical health. More so than Belphegor [independent, cat-like character; may not take care of himself, but would be capable if he cared more], you'll need to bring the eldest his food and make sure that he's taking care of himself at any given time.

Satan is ...fairly fit, probably ? He's another hard read, starting out, but like Lucifer, things might solidify as I go on ? I hope.

Another picture for continuity. They give us so little, though... One of my first thoughts here was that, with his composure, the fact he's more level-headed than even some of the other brothers despite his sin being wrath ...probably means that he's working out on occasion. It's legitimately a good stress-reliever, which is why I think Satan does it sometimes—between the reading and the pranks—and Lucifer ...not enough. Headcanon: Satan boxes. Physical sports. Not like Beel, with fangol—no competitive aspects. Just solo, aggressive stuff that allows him to take out his anger in productive ways. It's irregular how much he does this, especially because it's not his sole outlet. His metabolism is decent, and I think, compared to Lucifer or Asmo, he probably cares less about his body. There's no aesthetic reason to maintain it. He doesn't do it out of pride. For him, similar to Beel, I think, it comes down to mental well-being more so. He's a lot more lean muscle than Beel, though, but similarly, both his arms and legs are well defined due to the nature of contact sports. There's less definition on his chest, however. He does things like stretches, warm-ups, push-ups and pull-ups, as well, and his abs / chest fall on the side of slim-fit, but are less defined because that's just not his primary focus. It's more like his body being in good shape is a side-effect of the stress relief.

anyway i personally think the obey me boys in game bodies are WRONG actually

[jungw8ns]

GOING TO AN ESCAPE ROOM WITH ENHYPEN !

PAIRING: boyfriend!enha x gn!reader. GENRE: established relationship, fluff, crack. WARNINGS: profanity (not that much tho), mentions of death (?). WORD COUNT: 100 - 200 each member.

HEESEUNG:

the two of you were so pumped playing an escape room together for the first time that the other people in line had to calm you guys down (which was trully embarrassing to say the least 🤐🤐)

he was looking at the ranking board filled with pictures of players that had succeeded in the shortest amount of time and he just wanted nothing more than to see both your faces on there

but anyways, we all know how competitive heeseung gets 🕴️

oh boy let me tell you, this guy WAS SPEEDRUNNING IT but not the kind you were thinking

the second the timer had started he was literally SPRINTING AROUND THE ROOM LOOKING FOR CLUES YET COMPLETELY MISSING THEM 🏃‍♂️💨💨💨

while he was busy running around, you were picking up the little details in the room and in no time managed to open a few locks

"y/n look i found– oh 😐😑😐"

HE WAS SULKING PLSSS 😭😭😭

when you noticed him standing from afar staring at you with his arms crossed, you called him to solve this one puzzle you already did

*gasps* "oh no! babe i don't understand how to do this, please help me 😔😔🤥🙏🙏"

he had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from letting out that cocky grin but it got out eventually

"oh it's so easy sweetheart, just put this here and then voila! 😉"

when the two of you escaped you suprisingly got to take a polaroid with him home after ranking 2nd in the records

heeseung was the one who held onto it tho, placing it underneath his clear phonecase for safekeeping <3

JAY:

GOD THIS DUDE

THE ESCAPE ROOM WASN'T EVEN THAT SCARY AND YET EVERYTIME YOU GUYS OPEN A LOCK OR A DOOR HIS FIGHT OR FLIGHT INSTINCTS COME UP 😭😭👊👊

"y/n stay behind me >:(("

"um, babe, you do realize that's just a door right?"

"WE'LL BETTER SAFE THAN SORRY?? THE STAFF COULD'VE PROGRAMMED IT TO GROW LEGS?? 😵🧐🧐"

you knew you shouldn't have played horror games with him a few nights ago cause he looked like he was about to lose his mind 😔

you had to shove his ass aside and move on to the next mission cause the both of you knew that he was stalling 🏌️‍♀️

jay was being extra clingy the whole time you were playing, he'd either link arms with you or hold hands (he's literally so adorable) 💞💞

BUT THEN YOU THOUGHT OF DOING A PRANK ON HIM

while you were roaming around the room trying to solve a puzzle, you saw this horse mask on a nearby table

and so you made sure jay was distracted and put on the mask

you could've NOT worn the dusty old thing but where was the fun in that?

"jay can you come here for a sec?"

you hid behind the wall beside the door frame waiting for him to come into your sight and attacked him

now, how about we guess what happens next?

a. he faints

b. he runs away

or c. he slaps you in the face and forces you to buy him food for the rest of the night

if you guessed c then YAY! YOU'RE CORRECT 🥳🎉🎉🎊

THIS HOE SLAPS YOU AS HE SHOULD

"$##/@+(+'£%(:?!!)&£**/*%@"

when he finally takes off the mask like those scenes in scooby doo he's never felt so betrayed in his life

"i- I TRUSTED YOU 😭😭😭 YOU BETTER BUY ME FOOD LATER, I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS, THE BETRAYAL???? LITERALLY UNPROVOKED?????"

he wouldn't stop side eyeing you until you guys finally pulled up on the mcdonalds drive thru

"hi, can i get two um– bts meals please? 😒😒 and two oreo mc flurries 🙄🙄 and also large fries 😐😐"

sane (1/3)

would be trailing behind you like a little puppy (i love him so much 😭😭😭)

he either has his arm linked with yours or held hands every five minutes

JAKE:

really focused on the puzzles he's doing but the second he hears you call out his name for help he's there beside you with the sweetest smile

but anyways, mans was POPPING OFF the entire time you were playing

he was solving problem after problem in no time (he wanted to impress you is why he activated his inner flash ⚡⚡) but he did let you play tho, the last thing he wanted to do was make you pissed at him for hogging all the games

def buried jake with compliments and forehead kisses right after ❤️__❤️

and so the two of you got out in like an hour and a few which you were very proud of

"you were so cool today babe, good job !!"

"aww thank you angel 😊😊"

sane (2/3)

SUNGHOON:

would be linking pinkies with you the whole time, only letting go whenever the both of you had to solve something that needed two or more people

there was this one game tho where he had to arm wrestle this literal hand lever to open the door to the last room (yea...don’t ask why, the staffs were pretty weird 😬😬) 

it made him enjoy the experience a bit more as it was only the two of you playing instead of getting accompanied by strangers

HGAWAHSGDHSGHDA PLSS THIS GUY

“oh this’ll be easy, y/n step aside, i’ll handle this 😏😏😏”

idk if you were supposed to think about how handsome he looked with his serious expression on and his veiny hands coming into frame or be worried for him because the lever was REAL HARD to pull that his veins looked like they were going to pop any second soon, you stepped in and helped him tho cause you were a good s/o <3

from a spectators point of view, the two of you looked like y’all were about shit your pants but the two of you eventually succeeded on beating it, immediately dragging him to the next room which had a sofa in it, laying down to catch your breaths

cliché moment ahead ⚠️⚠️

the two of you shared a few laughs before standing up on the empty space, held hands and started to jump in circles to celebrate your success 💃💃

yupp, y’all were never going back to that hellhole again

very stubborn at first, he wanted nothing to do with the game but then you held him at gunpoint by saying:

SUNOO:

"please just this once or else i'll revoke your mint choco ice cream rights 🔫🔫🔫"

"BUT IT'S SCARY IN THERE BABE :((("

"it won't be that scary sunshine, besides, i'll be ready to 🤜💥 yk?? trust me babe i would never let anyone hurt you <33"

kinda pissed since you blackmailed him into the place and also bc he wanted to play bumper cars and dance mania but he yea he caved in pretty quick 😋😋

(y/n let him play his games in peace tf >:(((( )

once you guys got in tho he realized how normal it was and that it was not terrifying at all

THE EPITOME OF CLINGY OMFG

he wouldn't stop back hugging you and you couldn't bring yourself to push him away to play the games so you just let him walk behind you with his arms on your shoulders 😩😩

(y'all were walking kinda funny but don't tell sunoo that 🤫🤫🤫)

yea the two of you ended up escaping with a whopping 2 hours and a few minutes

but it was the effort that counts so A+++++ for the both if you 😜👍👍👍

sane (3/3)

JUNGWON:

was the one who suggested going, he even searched on naver about really good escape room places to visit and was overall really looking forward it

he liked going to places and having fun with you so it wasn't a shock how his eyes were literally crescents and his dimples were so evident

yea he literally rushed the both of you to the place that you were the first in line 😵

while waiting for the staff to finish setting up he was playing with your connected hands like 🖐️✊🖐️✊ (so precious 💞💞)

"y/n why are you taking so long 😭😭 what if they close and we end up not solving a single lock, hurry up por favorrr 😩🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏"

when they finally lead you to the room he was kind of surprised that they had separated the two of you into different spaces (like the one with txt where they had the answers to the other member's puzzles yk???)

he was locked inside a telephone stand while you were handcuffed in the main room

dw the two of you reunited after a few minutes cause jungwon was rushing his lock to get to you 🤭

you both were progressing at an average pace and it made you guys a lot more closer (not that you guys weren't before but you get what i mean)

after you guys escaped the two of you went to eat curry and talked about the whole experience 😋✌️✌️✌️

this boy literally dragged you in the escape room with him

NIKI:

HE DIDN'T EVEN GIVE YOU TIME TO REFUSE HE JUST 😐👉🚪

"ok masterchefs, in order to test your abilities we must go through series of puzzles and make it out alive, understood?"

he tried ignoring how confused you were and went on to try and get you guys to escape

HE'S LAUGHING AT YOU FOR WHATEVER REASON AND OBV YOU LAUGH ASWELL CAUSE WHO WOULDN'T??? his laugh is so contagious pls 🤖🤖 he was so close to d wording cause he couldn't breathe from laughing too much

yea.. you guys spent so much time laughing at each other for being so dumb at this that you ended up playing 'till closing time

spoiler alert: he fails on doing anything cause the second you made eye contact with him this child collapses 😍🤩

GIRL SO EMBARRASSING 🤡🤡

THE STAFF KICKED THE BOTH OF YOU OUT AND NOW YOU GUYS WERE BANNED FROM THE PLACE ☠️☠️

"haunted house next weekend???"

"BET"

NOTE – god they were WAY funnier in my head but yeah.... i love them so much AND OMFG HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN HEESEUNG’S SELCAS LAST NIGHT???!?@??#?@?!?@ HE’S NOT REAL WTF ⁉️❓❓⁉️

also, idk why BUT EVERY TIME I SAVE A DRAFT the paragraphs get scrambled?? £!?) 6=6) 🤣😂💔💔🤣🤣😂💔 it's so annoying but anyways, ilysm pls stay safe and have a great day <33

[bi-bard]

Milkshakes - Team Free Will Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Milkshakes

Pairing: Team Free Will X Platonic!Fem!Reader (as put in the request)

Requested: @gabrielasilva1510

Word Count: 1,846 words

Warning(s): violence, death

Summary: [Early Season 11 (Before Episode 10)] Sam and Dean think that there's something that can be The Darkness. Castiel warns them but... who knows? Maybe God's ultimate weapon isn't as scary as it seems.

Author's Note: I used dodie for outfit inspiration because the outfit matched the vibe but change it if you want. I only used a female read because it's in the request and it helped with clarity because the whole imagine is in 3rd person (I do usually use they/them pronouns in my work). Finally, I thought the milkshake flavor sounded good, but you can change it in your mind if you want to.

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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

--Third Person P.O.V--

Sam was leaning over a lore book in the library. It was too early for him to be so focused on the book but he felt like he needed to. The Darkness being released was his fault, he needed to find a solution.

Dean walked in from the kitchen with a cup of coffee and was clearly still half-asleep. He sat across from his brother.

"What're you reading," Dean grumbled out in between sips of coffee.

"I found this book about the most powerful beings," Sam explained. "Most of them are just rumored to exist but I thought it'd give us a jumping-off point on where to find something to help us defeat Amara."

"Anything interesting," Dean asked.

"A Nephilim; kid of an angel and a human," Sam said. "There's no mention that they could kill someone as powerful as God. Then there's..."

Sam trailed off and went back through the book, hunting for a particular page he had read nearly an hour ago. He pointed to the page once he found it.

"This doesn't even have a name but it describes a creature created by God to be a weapon," Sam explained. "I was doing some snooping on some message boards when I first found out about it. There's a lot of religious nuts and self-proclaimed hunters who think this thing is gonna be the end of the world. They say it's a prophecy that can't be stopped."

"And you think hunting it down is a good idea," Dean asked.

"Listen, I don't think it's fair to think this thing wants to end the world," Sam replied. "I think it's the best choice we have right now."

"Alright, fine, where do we look," Dean asked.

The boys didn't have to look far before Castiel popped into the library. He asked where they had gotten on their path to defeat Amara. His eyes went wide when they explained what they wanted to do.

"Are you two insane," Castiel asked.

"Listen-"

"No, I know more about this than either of you," the angel stopped Dean's argument. "This creature could kill you both with a look and end the world with a flick of the wrist and you want to track it down?!"

"Isn't it worth trying," Sam asked.

"'Trying,'" Castiel was so unbelievable done with the idiotic decisions of the Winchesters at that point.

"If we don't try something, then Amara kills all of us anyways," Dean said. "We need something Cas. This could be the thing."

Castiel sighed, letting his head fall forward for a moment before looking back up at the boys.

"Fine," Castiel threw his hands up. "Do you know how to find this thing?"

"Looks like a spell," Sam turned the book so Castiel could look at the page. "We should have everything. It's strange no one's tried-"

"Succeeded," Castiel corrected. "People have probably tried if the spell is so simple."

"Okay, good, let's get the supplies and give it a shot," Dean clapped his hands and stood up.

In a matter of minutes, the boys and their angel were back around the table and ready to start the spell.

Castiel and Dean jumped when Sam grabbed a knife and nicked his hand.

"One of us needs to be bonded," Sam explained. "Like a human compass. It feels right that it's me."

He didn't wait for the other two to respond before he started reading the spell of the book. Castiel and Dean exchanged a look for a moment.

As he finished the spell, a purple flame shot up from the bowl for a second. Sam felt his arm tingling from the wound up. He shook it out, trying to understand what it was telling him.

States over, a young girl, a college student visiting home, is sitting in a booth at a small diner.

In between page turns, she sits up straight. Her eyes flash the same purple as the flame from the spell before she snaps out of the trance.

She looks around. Everything feels different. It's like the air had shifted around her. She furrowed her eyebrows... what the hell was that?

--time skip--

Dean pulled the impala up to the curb of the street. The three of them look at the nice house. White picket fence, two stories, a garden.

"Are you sure about this," Dean asked Sam. "This seems like a pretty normal house."

Sam nodded, "I can feel it. It's here."

"Alright, let's go," Dean replied.

The three of them got out of the car and made their way up the pathway. None of them knew what fight they were going to get once they opened that door. It could've been a deadly fight. They may not have even had a chance to fight.

Still, with one last silent check with the others, Dean lifted his hand and knocked on the door.

The last thing they expected was for a girl to open the door with a wide smile. She had a white dress on with an orange cardigan over the top.

"Hello," she said happily. "What can I help you with?"

"Sam," Dean looked at his brother. Sam just nodded. He could feel it in his gut. "What's your name?"

"(Y/n)," the girl replied. "And you are?"

"I'm Sam," the taller man answered. "This is Dean and Cas."

"Nice to meet you," she held a hand out.

Sam awkwardly accepted, shaking her hand. They both froze, eyes flashing purple before they both stepped back from each other.

"That was weird," (Y/n) mumbled, frowning at her hand. "What was that?"

The boys looked at each other but before they could speak, there was a crash from inside the house. The girl jumped.

"Who's that," Dean asked.

"I don't know," she replied. "My parents are gone. No one else is supposed to be here."

Sam and Dean grabbed their guns before all of them walked inside.

Before they could get any answers for themselves, an angel rounded the corner and tried to grab (Y/n), who ran behind the others as soon as she saw the angel.

She stumbled backward toward the wall in shock and fear. She covered her mouth as the more angels walked into her living, not that she knew that's who they were.

Sam, Dean, and Cas were getting thrown around.

"Stop," Sam yelled as they walked toward (Y/n).

"We need something to defeat the Darkness," one of the angels said. "This is our option. Thank you for leading us to her."

(Y/n) was shaking more as she listened. The Darkness? Why was she so important to them? To the boys or the others who had broken into her house?

"Come on, (Y/n)," one of the angels had a hand out to her. She shook her head and the angel chuckled. "Fine. Make this harder."

The others came running at her.

"No," she yelled, dropping to the ground, and covering herself with her arms.

A pulse of energy shot out. The angels that had broken in had burned in front of her.

Dean, Sam, and Cas looked at each other.

(Y/n) slowly looked up from where she was.

"Hey," Sam walked over, kneeling next to her. "You alright?"

"What was that," she asked, shaking. "Who are you? Who were they? What did I do?"

"Hey, hey," Sam touched the girl's shoulders. "It's alright. Hey... how about we go somewhere to calm down? How about some food, yeah? Is there a restaurant nearby or something?"

She nodded. Sam helped her stand up fully and led her to the impala. Dean and Cas sat in the front while Sam and (Y/n) took the backseat.

(Y/n) rambled about a small diner nearby, giving Dean quick directions before falling silent again.

The four of them took a booth in the farthest back corner. (Y/n) sat leaning against the wall, Sam next to her and Cas and Dean across from her.

"Umm... do you know what you want," Sam asked quietly, making (Y/n) aware of the waitress there.

She was an old friend, "You alright, (Y/n)?"

"Yeah," (Y/n) nodded. "I'm just a little tired. Umm... can I get a cherry vanilla milkshake?"

"That it for you, dear," the waitress checked. (Y/n) nodded with a grin, playing with the end of her cardigan's sleeves.

The waitress took the other three's orders before walking away.

"Who were those people," (Y/n) asked. "Why did they break into my house?"

"Because God made you a weapon," Cas said bluntly, making (Y/n)'s eyes go wide.

"A weapon?"

"He means," Dean jumped in, "you have powers that you don't know about. That's why you were able to get rid of those angels."

"Those were angels," she tried to keep her voice down. They all nodded. "I thought angels were supposed to be good?"

"They are supposed to follow orders," Cas corrected. "Not all of them are good."

She nodded, "Are you guys angels?"

"No, well, Sam and I aren't," Dean pointed between him and his brother. "Cas is."

"Oh," she muttered. "You're not-"

"I'm not gonna force you to go to heaven to defeat the Darkness," Cas promised.

"The Darkness," she said. "What's that? Why do I need to fight it?"

"The Darkness is... kind of our fault," Sam explained. "She's trying to create a new world in her image, which includes destroying this one."

"So, how'd you find me," she asked.

Before they could answer, the waitress came back, dropping off their food and drinks. (Y/n) leaned forward and took a sip of her milkshake and grinned to herself for a moment.

The boys were so confused. This was God's weapon?

"Well, Dean and I are hunters," Sam continued once (Y/n) back over to him. "We hunt monsters. Our grandpa was part of this group, the Men of Letters. They have a book in their collection that talks about you. There was a spell that led us to you."

She nodded but furrowed her eyebrows. Monsters? God? Hunters? After what had happened today, she struggled to deny all of it but was still hesitant to believe them?

"Well, if the Darkness knows I can defeat... her... won't she be looking for me too," (Y/n) asked.

"We can keep you safe," Dean promised.

"You're sure?"

"As sure as possible," he nodded.

(Y/n) looked down for a moment, "Okay. I'll go with you. I just... I need to get some stuff from my house and tell my parents that I'll be gone."

"You can't tell them where you're going or why," Dean said. "It'll put them in danger."

She bit her lip, "If it saves them in the long run, fine."

(Y/n) asked a lot more questions that day as they ate in the diner. They told her about monsters and the big bads they had faced. Monsters' weaknesses and abilities. Their other hunting buddies. People she could trust.

Sam, Dean, and Cas trusted her immediately. They felt like they needed to. Like she was a person to rely on.

And there- over a cherry vanilla milkshake- (Y/n) watched her entire life change forever.

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Masterlist

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[itsbenedict]

I just finished hosting a 15-person game of Mafia for some friends. One tradition we have for these games is that every death is accompanied by some themed narration, so for my game I opted to spice it up with some art on top. Had to draw it real quick since I didn't know for sure who was going to die next until it happened.

The game's theme was "JoJo's Bizarre Adventure", with the hidden subtheme that all the roles (stands) were named after They Might Be Giants (@tmbgareok) songs! A list of their powers, links to songs, and a recap of the game under the cut.

01) Mogis - 「Flo Wheeler」

02) TD260 - 「Working Undercover For The Man」

03) JGH27 - 「Good To Be Alive」

04) Raya - 「Stone Cold Coup D'Etat」

05) KK / Sahrimnir - 「Thinking Machine」

06) Spontaneous Combustion - 「The Statue Got Me High」

07) Leviwulf - 「Push Back The Hands」

08) DarkFalco - 「I Am Alone」

09) Deli064 - 「Doctor Worm」

10) Fedaykin - 「Letterbox」

11) Surge - 「I Am Alone」

12) Wikxen - 「Put Your Hand Inside The Puppet Head」

13) Minby - 「Where Your Eyes Don't Go」

14) Bel - 「(She Was A) Hotel Detective」

15) SnakeInABox - 「By The Time You Get This」

Bold roles were Jotunheim (Mafia), normal roles were Johnsburg (Town), and italicized roles were third parties. (Jotunheim is the realm of giants from Norse mythology! The mafia were, in fact, giants! And the town's job was to figure out who might be giants! And the two sides were Jo and Jo! JOKES!)

「Flo Wheeler」 was a town role with a power that was pretty dangerous to the user- if anyone happened to be watching or tracking when a kill took place at night, Mogis would look like they'd visited the target that night in addition to whoever actually did. It could potentially be used to catch a mafioso in a lie, but otherwise it was more of an obstacle for the town to overcome- a miller-type role.

♪ You can't do the time, therefore you didn't do the crime ♪

「Working Undercover For The Man」 was a third-party role working for the Speedwagon Foundation to perform a threat assessment. TD could win with the town, but could win and leave early if he could guess all the names or powers of every other stand in the game. He could scan a name every night, to help that along.

♪ Planning midnight raids / On our unsuspecting fans / While the roadies rig / The video surveillance van ♪

「Good To Be Alive」 was a spin on the usual town doctor role- normally, a doctor can target a player and prevent their death if they would die that night. But... JGH couldn't actually prevent deaths- just fake it. The dead would become ghosts, who couldn't vote and couldn't be killed but were still allowed to talk as if they were alive.

♪ Hello leg / such a shaky leg / Just barely more than decoration ♪

「Stone Cold Coup D'Etat」 was a third party with an unusual win condition. They had to recruit a certain number of people to a private side-chat- and then make sure all those people got killed. Plus, she could redirect anything that happened to her at night to her recruits. If the recruits figured out what she was doing and got rid of her, they'd get a boost to their power.

♪ The bark now commands the trees / The queen is overruled by the bees ♪

「Thinking Machine」 was a town role with a mysterious purpose that didn't seem to make much sense at first. Sah would get, every morning, a strange series of numbers and letters of uncertain origin. It was information, somehow, but how to use it?

♪ Tape has brightening arm connect (Wait, that didn't make sense.) / Self-paint lever itching does! (That made even less sense!) ♪

「The Statue Got Me High」 was a mafia power. As the song describes, the victim is enthralled by the monolith and forced to obey its commands, until their eventual death. That is, Spont could recruit a player to the mafia, but they'd die one night later- and if he wasn't careful, he could die and his recruit would flip back.

♪ And now it is your turn (your turn to hear the stone and then your turn to burn) / The stone, it calls to you (you can't refuse to do the things it tells you to) ♪

「Push Back The Hands」 was a passive ability that caused anything that would happen to Levi- a nightkill, an execution, some other power- to be delayed by one day, giving him some time to react. He'd be told who it was that targeted him, so going after him as mafia was risky.

♪ Screeching tires but never a collision / Endless day without a sunset provision ♪

「I Am Alone」 was a weird one. See, DarkFalco, who was mafia, didn't have a stand as such. She was the stand- and she was the stand of Surge, who was town. They were linked together in everything, meaning the mafia had to work to keep Surge alive on top of their own people. She could send messages to Surge at night to mess with him, though.

♪ Before you fire I should inform you / One of us is a double ♪

「Doctor Worm」 had no real special abilities. His ability was to be pretty good at playing the drums, a power that had absolutely no relevance in a game of Mafia.

♪ I'm not a real doctor, but I am a real worm I am an actual worm ♪

「Letterbox」 was a mafia ability that let Fedaykin pick another player, and offer that player a chance to deliver a private message to one other player of their choice. He could see the "secret" communications, though, and once per game he could edit the message before delivering it.

♪ I'll never know what you'll find when you open up your letter box tomorrow ♪

「Put Your Hand Inside The Puppet Head」 is a classically mafia ability, but in the hands of a town player: the ability to force another player to vote for another. Normally the manipulated person isn't allowed to say what happened, but there was no such restriction here- confusion's no good for the town.

♪ Memo to myself: do the dumb things i gotta do: Touch the puppet head ♪

「Where Your Eyes Don't Go」 let Minby pick someone else to watch him at night. If anyone visited him to target him with an ability, the person he designated would be told the names of those people. A nasty trap for the mafia, as long as Minby doesn't pick a mafioso to share the information with.

♪ Where your eyes don't go, a part of you is hovering / It's a nightmare that you'll never be discovering / You're free to come and go / Or talk like Kurtis Blow / But there's a pair of eyes in back of your head ♪

「(She Was A) Hotel Detective」 was a very powerful town role- Bel was the cop, and could scan another player's alignment at night, plus track or watch them. Except... not directly. She couldn't scan players- she could scan hotel rooms, and if other players didn't check into the hotel at night or give up their room numbers, her information was useless.

Here are the room numbers, in order: Levi (1) Snake (2) JGH (3) TD (4) Spont (5) Sah (6) Deli (7) Fed (8) Minby (9) Falco/Surge (10) Raya (11) Wikxen (12) Mogis (13).

(Oh, and Thinking Machine's codes were actually encoded versions of her results, and Sah would get a weaker version of her power if she ever died.)

♪ She's got her ear to the walls / And she's tappin' the calls / If you've got a secret, boy / Forget about it! ♪

「By The Time You Get This」 imbued its wielder with the incredible powers of... an estate lawyer! Which meant Snake could leave a will behind when he died, naming another player and casting a vote on them from beyond the grave the next day.

♪ By the time you get this note / We'll no longer be alive / But our skulls are smiling still / At the thought of things to come ♪

So! Here's how it all shook out.

Day 1: The first day is always kind of a tossup, since no one has any information yet, and everyone's just trying to verbally stir the pot. Levi soft-claims his role right out the gate, warning town not to try targeting him or else. Mogis is executed, casting a vote on himself to save the town the trouble of dealing with Flo Wheeler.

Night 1: Spont uses the statue to recruit Wikxen, at the same time that Wikxen forces Snake to vote for Levi. So, now the usually-scum power in the hands of town is in the hands of scum for real. Bel scans room 3, and learns that its occupant is innocent. Raya recruits DarkFalco, and accidentally recruits Surge alongside her, to her surprise. JGH tries protecting Levi, to test if his claim was a bluff.

Day 2: Levi tries to push JGH on the basis of having targeted him last night, but everyone agrees to wait and see if Levi actually dies first. Votes circle around Wikxen and Raya for suspicious-seeming defensiveness on Day 1, and ultimately, when it seems like Wikxen's about to be executed, a small group of players flip their votes at the last minute and vote Raya out while she's asleep and can't defend herself. Rude! She was poised to win the game for herself and the town, since she'd convinced Falco that the mafia would benefit somehow if they were all recruited.

Night 2: The mafia kills Minby- and Minby opts to tell have Fed watch him, wasting his power. Lucky for town, though, Bel happens to scan room 8, confirming Fed is mafia since he volunteered his room number. Wikxen's coat contains a furnace where there used to be a guy.

Day 3: Wikxen forced Snake to vote for J, making him look bad- but Sah begins sharing his bizarre results from Thinking Machine, and Bel confirms that they're a log of her detective power. Then she points out that Fed is mafia, and the town falls in line behind the accusation with Sah to confirm.

Night 3: Spont uses the statue to recruit Bel, to keep any more problematic scans from ruining them. Bel, before being recruited, scans room 10, though- and now the town knows there's something funky with Falco and Surge, because Sah gets the results and knows what they mean. Due to their mismatched alignments, though, the encoded version is still misleading, so there's wiggle room. TD scans Spont and learns his role name.

Day 4: Spont concocts a daring scheme. He has Bel lie and claim to have received an incriminating result on him- so that Bel will be caught in said lie when Sah produces his own results. The plan is to frame Bel, who's a dead girl walking anyway, and clear Spont's name going forward. But the town talks themselves into explaining away the contradiction- even when TD reveals Spont's stand name, and Spont denies it outright and claims 「Combustible Head」, a fake vigilante (town nightkiller) role instead, the town explains away that, too. After a few more people claim, TD260 has completed his mission- his correct guess wins him the game and he leaves. Spont cleverly excuses himself by claiming that TD lied about his role to get him to claim his "real" one. Afterwards, the town ends up executing Deli064 instead, for some reason- poor Doctor Worm!

Night 4: The evidence vanishes from Bel's charred and smoking chair- because JGH tries to protect her at the same time the mafia are killing him! Bel is a ghost now, and the town never finds out her alignment.

Day 5: Bel not dying poses a problem for the mafia, because Spont was supposed to prove his own innocence by pretending to kill her! The mafia tries to misdirect by having Bel lie again, claiming to scan room 10 when she actually scanned room 6, Sah. Ultimately, though, the town is able to coordinate behind killing Surge and Falco, which- because they're linked- is a compromise option that both parties are happy with (when perhaps they shouldn't be).

Night 5: Since Bel is technically dead, Spont recruits again, grabbing Sah and removing the threat of scans entirely. If he'd recruited Snake instead, they'd have won on the spot, since only his will-vote prevented them from winning instantly due to outnumbering the town. We move on to a somewhat redundant...

Day 6: It's now down to five players- Spont, Sah, and Bel vs Levi and Snake. The mafia technically outnumber the town, but Bel's vote doesn't count, and Sah's going to burn the next night- so the town can still win by forcing a tie and then using Snake's By The Time You Get This power to place a vote on Spont. But that's if they can figure it out and get on the same page, and... they don't. There's no way there could be three mafia still alive, so the mafia are able to sow total confusion and ultimately get the town all voting for Bel... who's a ghost, and can't vote or be executed, which the town doesn't know because JGH died before he could fully explain. The execution defaults to Snake, and the mafia win the game.

[lackingspace]

Lucent (Ghostface x Reader)

Rated: EXPLICIT

Word Count: 12k (yeah, you read that right. A book. I didn’t feel like spliting it.)

Warnings: Depictions of injuries, descriptions of blood and gore (this is the slasher place after all), suggestive language and themes, explicit dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, thigh riding, oral, cum play, cum eating, it kinda nasty, Danny “Jed Olsen” Johnson is his own warning,

Author Note: I hope y’all enjoy this MEAL. It nasty. I’m not sorry.

Part 4 of Homecoming series✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Previous ch: Torrid

Next ch: debased

AO3 Link: Lucent

Dying, well, it really wasn’t significant at all. Didn’t really feel any different than curling up and slowly slipping into an easy slumber.

In truth, it was a surprisingly forgettable experience. You’d thought it would have left more of a mark on you, some kind of trauma on your psyche. Cause a shift in your world views or something significant— but you were...fine. Just fine.

It wasn’t like you forgot. No, uh uh, not at all, you remember everything clearly. You knew you’d died. Could even still feel the ghost of the entity's pincers. You remembered peering into the deep black abyss. Remembered the way the hook was impaled into you. How the tendrils had reorganized your insides. And you especially remembered Ghost Face. God, you couldn’t forget that if you tried. Not that you’d want to. That had been the best you’ve felt in a long time.

Clearly remembered the last thump of your heart…

It could be shock. That quiet voice inside you whispered it wasn’t. But you felt like this was something you should have kind of a problem with. Like, you shouldn’t feel so blasé with this...right? But you could hear that place in you telling you it was fine. That you weren’t basic like most people.

But you still tried to rationalize— it was always a thing in books or movies. The whole ‘death experience’ was a big thing for a person to come to terms with, right? There was always that profound opinion on the experience of dying and suddenly waking up to realize that there was nothing waiting for you there but darkness….somehow, you just felt content with it. Didn’t mind it at all.

Although, seeing where you came from...maybe it did make sense. Still, you wondered what those other survivors' reactions to death were like. Did they have a hard time coming to terms at first? You were curious about what it was supposed to feel like. 

You’d never cared to know what was considered ‘normal’ anyway. And thinking of your upbringing, different was your normal. 

Not really sure what that says about me, but oh well, whatever. Can't help it, I guess… With a shrug, you put it out of your mind. Wallowing in self-contemplation wouldn’t get you anywhere, so you got up off of the dirt for a second time, Geez, I'm really making a habit of this. 

Honestly though, dying might have been the best thing that's happened to you since all this began...a quick flash of a mask in your mind's eye had you rethinking that. Ok, second best thing because you felt way better than before. Almost like you weren’t fucked up and stuck in some version of reality. Just a little sore.

Physically there were still aches, small jolts of pain with strained movement here and there, but overall nothing too intense. And Emotionally? You felt solid there too. 

When you looked yourself over the entity must have taken pity on you or heard your earlier plea because although the sling was still there, your arm felt significantly better. Peering in revealed the break looked like it had been set correctly if not fixed.

It still felt achy, stiff, but definitely not broken, dislocated if you wanted to really be dramatic. When moving it there wasn’t any jarring pain— a good sign, just achiness. The sling was probably unnecessary, but being paranoid you decided to keep it on. Maybe the entity would decide to take back it's magical healing, who knows how this place worked.

Cosmetic injuries like cuts and bruises were still scattered on you. The massive gash running the length of your leg was still there too, but like your arm, it miraculously felt better. It looked scabbed, deeper bruising, and maybe an infection starting? but it really looked way worse than it felt. Didn’t feel fresh anymore.

If everything else was healed you hazard a guess that the cut running across your eye probably didn’t need the gauze covering it anymore. So after a moment's hesitation, you reached up, gently prodded and peeled it away. Slowly with baited breath, you poked around the area. 

There was pain, surprisingly more than you felt in your arm, but it wasn’t anything to write home about either. Blinking slowly and then rapidly, your vision in the eye finally came into focus. Blinking did cause some irritation to the scabby slice ran over your eyelid, but that paled in comparison to actually having depth perception again. 

Alright, I’m sold, magical healing kicks ass. Checking your hip, it wasn’t as healed as everything else— didn’t have fresh clots of blood though so that was a plus, the bruising around it was still extensive. That’d be easy to deal with though— you had bruising pretty much everywhere. Out of sight, out of mind.

Looking around the area you noticed the landscape was trees, tall grasses, shrubs, and the occasional log. With nothing better to do, you walked aimlessly for a bit until you caught a muffled conversation in the distance. The words were unclear, but it sounded like someone wasn’t very happy. 

You decided there wasn’t any harm in trudging your way towards it. After a few moments, the voices or one voice, in particular, became clear. Someone was angry, yelling, and also very English. Guess the entity doesn’t discriminate against continents. Good to know, but damn, they don't care about who can hear them? People are weird.

“Where the fuck is the bloody wanker?!” there was a muffled response but you still weren’t close enough to grasp it.

Mr. drama queen rang out again, “What’d ya mean you ain’t know where the prick is?!” This time you’d walked close enough to catch the answer of a softer feminine voice, “we’re….well, she hasn’t come to the camp yet…” 

There was a beat of silence before the loud man barked, “Are you takin’ the piss? What the fuck does that mean?!” His voice growled, “Where the fuck else would she be?”

Finally pushing through some tall grass you stood silently at the edge of a clearing. The glow of a campfire cut through the fog, a few logs surrounding it, and a variety of people with it.

They were all scattered around— some in pairs sitting on the logs, others scattered just outside the log ring messing with a variety of odd items, there was even a woman sitting at a log riffling around inside a first-aid kit with a boy on the ground and his arm in her lap. He had a few gashes on his tricep. 

The culprit of the shouting had to be the man in a muscle shirt, pants, with wrapped knuckles. Dude has to be some kind of fighter. No wonder he's so angry. He was standing next to a petite woman, she must have been who he was arguing with.

You recognized her as one of the people who’d been in the trial with you. She wasn’t the one you watched get mutilated, but the other one you’d only gotten a glimpse of. She had a deep complexion and a gentle-looking countenance. 

“We left the trial a while ago, but she hasn’t shown up yet. Either the entity put her in another immediately or well, we’re not sure….” She answered the lumbering man and added with what sounded like pity, “You should have seen her, she wasn’t in good shape. The poor girl could be lost in the woods somewhere...But” 

The man scoffed, “Yer Wot?! We always pop back up right ‘ere.” After a second he must have finally processed what she’d said, “What’d you mean, ‘not good’ shape? That’s just our normal innit?” The woman shook her head, “She looked worse than us.” She continued before he could ask, “I didn’t get a great look, but she was banged up really bad. Covered in bandages. Our trial was with Ghost Face, and you know how that creep is. He could be drawing it out with a chase or something.” 

The man chuffed out annoyance in a swift exhale, “Oi, don't even get me started on that knob head.” The woman cut him off before he could continue on that train of thought, “Why do you want to know where she's at though?”

She shouldn’t have asked because the annoyance that had simmered down was back with a flair, “What is it, right, there was a fuckin’ trash new killer.” The woman gave him a look of pity. New killers were always the worst, “This new bloke is proper fucked. Big, scarier than my ma— and that's saying something.” He made a snort of exasperation, “Just bloody brutal.” 

A new woman walked up to the two, she’d been knelt down next to the fire. She had a slim build with a stylish fitted jacket, scarf, and what looked like some kind of recorder on her hip, “David’s right, Claudette, the new killer,” she made a grimace and shivered, “He...it’s something else.” Confusion was written all over Claudettes face, “That bad? Wait...It?”

David, cut in, “It's a guy mate, but tosser had a mad metal thing over ‘is ‘ead!” Claudette looked confused and concerned now. The other woman clarified, “Yeah, I’m not really sure. It was some kind of metal cage thing. Didn’t seem like a mask— was just a triangle-shaped cage thing for his head.” a frown overtook her features, “He's a literal giant too— was a good 9 to 10 feet tall if not more and uses a sword just as big.” she shuddered “and there were these giant beetle things. Don’t know if they're a new entity edition or his, but god were they really nasty.” she closed her eyes and shook her head, “It wasn’t a good trial for us.” 

You knew how much it sucked to try and hide from pyramid head, but you didn’t feel that bad to be honest. You might have been able to choose the fucker that cut your hip, but no thanks, you were choosing for you and it’d be pyramid head every time. Imagine if you’d chosen that weird creepy mannequin monster. That made you shudder. 

Pyramid head was just big...at least he was slow— they wouldn’t get any sympathy from you. Besides, you knew how to deal with him well enough, so you’d be fine as long as he didn’t see you. He’d probably skin you alive if he got his grubby hands on you. 

Another man, well, just barely a man, late teens maybe? Walked over with his hands on his hips, “Ha, bad trial?! That's an understatement. I swore the Demogorgon would be the weirdest thing I’d ever see, but that guy really tried to take the cake.” He scratched the back of his head, “Where the hell does a guy like that even come from?!”

The unnamed woman shook her head, “Thanks for the input, Steve.” The boy jutted out a hip while gesturing with a hand, “Hey, I know you’re dying to know what pit he crawled out of too, Zarina!” 

She made a face that said he wasn’t wrong, but David cut back in, “Ye, I want to ask the new survivor what kinda prick she is to have that come in with ‘er.” 

Claudette sighed, “David that's not...I doubt that was her choice. You know how it is…”

David huffed in aggravation, but didn’t argue, “Anyways, like I said, she was so messed up...Dwight told me he thought she was a new killer, but he and Meg just mistook all her injuries…”

Steve cut in, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, someone showed up in a trial already injured?” Claudette nodded and he continued, “Ok, how bad are we talking? Like, fresh off a hook bad or I fell down a flight of stairs trying to get away bad?”

Everyone gave him an incredulous look, one he returned with exasperation, “What?” Zarina spoke up, “Falling down stairs? That's just you, Steve.” you silently laughed, That sounds like me the most though. 

The woman you recognized as the one who’d been mutilated in front of you— what had Claudette call her, Meg? Stood up from the man she sat next to and came over to the little huddle, “Think I saw her the most out of all of us, and yeah, it was pretty bad. Honestly looked like the entity snatched her out of a crappy hospital.” she seemed to think a moment before recounting your state, “She looked like she belonged in one anyways. Literally everywhere was covered with bandages. Eye, arms, legs, lots of cuts, bruising— she looked as miserable as I felt.”

Zarina brought a hand up to her chin in thought, “Maybe the killer we saw had injured her before they were brought here. I don't think any of us had accidents before being brought here, so maybe it's possible to keep the injuries if you’ve already sustained them.” 

Steve was nodding, “Alright, I’m following.” Claudette worried her hands together, “Poor girl must be so confused. Having us run from her and the Ghost Face as her first killer? I feel so bad. I’d rather have someone like the Oni who’d just get the job done than deal with Ghost Face’s attitude.” They all collectively acknowledged their agreement with either a nod or grunt. Well, he did say he was known as a bastard. Guess they really don't like him...Can't relate.

You’d stood there watching their whole interaction. None of the group had noticed you and looking around the clearing it didn’t seem like anyone else had either. Were these people all blind? They obviously didn’t care about conversation volume, but were they not alert either? Sure, you were pretty light-footed, but you’d definitely made some noise when pushing through the weeds. 

If they were in a place where they were regularly hunted by murderers you’d think they’d be on edge and alert constantly. They were pretty unobservant, how many times had they been spied on and never noticed before? This is good though, won't have to try very hard to cover up whatever's happening with Ghost Face.

Your thoughts moved over to thinking that maybe these people wouldn’t be the greatest teammates if you could slip in without anyone noticing. Of course, right then your eyes locked with the boy getting patched up by the girl with the medkit. Maybe there's some hope still. He wore a beanie, had a jacket that he’d have pulled half off. His most standout feature though was the deep bags under his eyes. 

He looked like around the age of Steve, probably late teens. God that must have sucked getting sucked up while still in puberty. No chance to experience life outside teen drama. That's gotta suck majorly. 

He had a curious expression as you sized him up. But it was nicer than the distrust that Meg had started you down with in the trial. His was open— welcoming even, almost warm. 

You figured the best thing to do was give him a slight smile, just a quick flicker of your lips up and a tilt of the head. He mirrored your expression while you turned your gaze back to the group as Zarina spoke up, "I wonder if the entity would have healed any of her previous injuries after the trail though." Claudette nodded, “Well, I hope it does...I can’t imagine walking around like she was.”

Meg nodded, "yeah, same, but you know it sometimes leaves us with injuries if we do bad. None of us told her what to do, so…." She left that sentence unfinished, but everyone knew what she was implying. 

David piped back up with a question, "Right, any of you lot want to give a look round for her?" Steve agreed and added, "Yeah, if you think she's still messed up I don't like the idea of her just wandering around lost. She could bump into a rando killer if ones lurking around." 

"I don't like the idea either, I’ll go too.'' Claudette fretted in a pensive tone, "But how are we supposed to know where she would have been dropped? If she's even out of the trial that is..." 

They were trying to come up with a plan when the boy who you’d just had your exchange with spoke up.

"Guys." Or he tried to, but they ignored him, "Hey, guys." Maybe he was just soft-spoken. Either way, they hadn’t heard him, so he tried again, "Guys, hey, Claudette? Steve?" 

Again they were talking amongst themselves— not paying attention and he looked bummed.

"Hey, you guys shut up! Quentin has something to say!" The girl with the medkit yelled out at the group. He looked up to her, “Thanks, Feng.” she looked down at him, “You’re welcome, Quenie.”

"Wow, rude Feng." Came from a disgruntled Steve, but they all listened, quieted, and turned to look at Quentin. He just raised a hand and pointed to you. Their gazes followed through and all eyes landed on you.

Looking between them all— even the few others who hadn't taken part in the conversation, you slowly raised a hand up and gave a small wave.

"Well, Zarina. You were right, she looks way better than before. Must have been healed a bit." It was Meg that broke the silence. “Doesn’t have the gauze on her eye and her leg doesn’t look like she kicked the oni’s knife anymore.”

"That's better?!" That was an exasperated Steve.

"Steve! That's rude!" Followed by an appalled Claudette.

"Oi! Where the fuck ya come from with that mingin ass killer?" And a disgruntled David.

You didn’t really have an answer or one that you wanted to give, so instead, you just blinked and said, "Uh, hi, I guess".

Claudette spoke up before anyone else could, “David! Don’t ask that!” She quickly made her way over to you, “Hi I’m Claudette and I’m sure you're really confused about what happened and where you are.”

You weren’t, thanks to Ghost Face, but telling them that wasn’t an option so you just went along with it and looked confused and nodded. 

“Oh, you poor girl. Come sit by the fire, I’m sure you’re in pain.” Again, you weren’t— at least none that really bothered you, but you didn’t need them asking questions. So you just sniffled, gave her a watery smile, and nodded. 

You followed her towards the logs meanwhile everyone's eyes followed you. She brought you over to where the boy Quentin was and sat you down, “Feng, are there any more bandages left in there?”

Feng handed the kit over to Claudette, “A few.” Quentin still sat on the ground, looking up to you, “ I’m Quentin, what's your name?” You gave it to him, meanwhile, Steve plopped down next to you. “Cool, nice to meet you, I’m Steve.” 

You looked at him and he opened and closed his mouth then cleared his throat before, “Ah, well I don't mean to be rude, but how’d you get to be like that?” he gestured from head to toe. A shout of, “Steven!” came from a young-looking girl across the fire. 

He groaned, “Nance you know we all were thinking it, and besides, I said ‘not to be rude’ which makes it totally ok, right?” Quentin reached over and knocked a balled fist against Steve's shin. Claudette shook her head as she pulled a few new bandage rolls from the kit and apologized, “Excuse him, he sometimes doesn’t think before he speaks.”

You looked around at them and let out a huff of laughter— more air than anything. You kind of liked the kid, he reminded you of, well, yourself a little. So you’d cut him some slack with a half-truth as Claudette started cleaning up and bandaging your leg, “From what I remember, I was jumped by some random wacko and beat up. Kinda sucked.” 

A couple shocked faces, a few angry, and a few pitying ones. All their sympathy did was make you feel caged. Steve had a look of indignation, “Jesus Christ, what happened to common decency. I guess people are just creeps everywhere.” 

You shook your head, “It’s fine...well, it's not fine, but I do feel better after…” You stopped from finishing that sentence because no way could you say ‘having the hottest finger bang of my life and then dying.’ So, instead, you chose to play up the confusion and then settle on a grimace.

“Yeah, it's called a trial and no it doesn’t get any easier,” Quentin spoke up when you didn’t finish. Feng spoke up to correct him, “Hey now, it does get a little easier because we're prepared and know what to expect...The psychological stuff is what stays the same.” 

Zarina agreed, “She's right, knowing what you’re up against helps. Being sacrificed or moried still sucks every time though. I always need a few to sort it out in my head, so don't feel bad if it's in on replay constantly right now.” You could see everyone had a look of agreement on their face. 

Alright, so everyone just had to collectively confirm my priorities are kinda different. Sweet. After a second you processed what she’d said, “Moried?” 

Meg answered your question, “It's a killer thing”. At your confused look she just said, “We’ll explain it all don't worry.” 

And that's how the conversation carried on for the next half hour. They asked a few questions, especially David asking if you knew anything about the new killer. You gave some answers— some half-truths, some lies, saying you didn’t know anything about the new killer, but that he sounded terrifying. They explained what Ghost Face had already told you and a lot of things he hadn’t. 

It was a ton of information to take in, so you knew you hadn’t absorbed everything, but it was good to at least have a clearer picture of what was going on here. From their perspective too. Even if you still thought they were kind of overbearing.

A few people stepped out of some thick fog at the edge of the camp and a few that were sitting stood up and shared a look, checked themselves over before fog appeared and swallowed them. The newcomers to the circle introduced themselves, you did the same, and it was Steve that explained what just happened. 

“They got called to a trial, you’ll know when you feel it. Hope they all get out and stick it to the killer.” You absentmindedly nodded in agreement. That happened a few more times, people suddenly standing with a knowing look and then disappearing. 

Who went seemed totally random and when you asked Quentin had shrugged and said they didn’t know if there was a pattern so they went with random. It’d been a good while since you’d come here, maybe an hour? What was time anymore though? Staring into the forest surrounding the camp you swore you’d seen a few shadows passing here and there. 

Did killers roam around? It was probably a thing. You’d walked around out there before coming here, so why shouldn’t they? Maybe they could spawn in there too before going to wherever they usually were. 

Restlessness had started to take root in you. Wanting to move you got up and paced a bit. Steve and Quentin had been called to a trial a little ago, so Feng was the only one left sitting with you. 

“Hey...would it...is it fine if I go walk around in the woods over there a bit? I’m antsy and I just need…” When you didn’t finish she raised a brow, but a look of sympathy was written on her face. She thankfully supplied, “Need to process everything alone?” 

You gave her a grateful smile that she interpreted as understanding. You were just glad she gave you an excuse. The urge to walk around and stretch your legs was there, so you weren’t exactly lying to her— and you did want to be alone too, just not to process like she thought….

There was a gnawing in your head again. One that wanted you to get up and find your masked friend. These people were all so nice and accommodating— which was fine in general, but you needed to decompress after everything with Ghost Face. You couldn’t exactly moan about how great he’d felt between your legs or how easy the banter was with him to anyone here. They might try to hang you or something.

Really needed to either find him and fuck him or find a place you could relax by yourself. Maybe do some yoga or something. You needed to question yourself in silence on how moral ambiguity was so easy for you. Psychoanalyzing yourself into an existential crisis and all that.  

The final nail so to speak was the sensation of being watched that’d come on about half an hour ago and you thought maybe...hoped it could be Ghost Face...you didn’t really count on it, but the desire was still annoyingly there.

“Go for it girl, you can’t really get that far anyway. Not without walking into killer territory. You’ll know when you do. Just watch out for them and come back this way. They can attack you if you’re on their side, you’ll still end up respawning back here, but who wants to give those dicks a free kill?” 

You agreed with thanks and made your way into the woods once again. It didn’t take long before the quiet conversations and crackles of the fire were lost to the silence of nature. There were crows occasionally, but nothing else. No insects to fill the silence, no wind, no other sounds. The silence was so loud, but strangely it calmed you more than the fire and camp comradery. 

A sigh left you as you were finally able to relax and breathe. The woods here had thicker fog than what you’d seen before. The lighting was low, but you kept walking and looking around. There wasn't much variation in landmarks or anything that stood out. So you just aimlessly wandered around. 

The feeling of someone watching you was still there, but it wasn’t concerning. Even if it was some random killer who took an interest in you for whatever reason, they weren’t bothering you. And you were cool with leaving it that way. 

You stopped when you saw a glimmer of light shimmering through the trees ahead. It was an orangey glow, so definitely some kind of fire. The light was flickering off the trees in a soothing pattern that enticed your senses— drawing you in. Curious, you were about to go investigate when something covered your eyes. Or someone.

Going stiff the smell of leather and a metallic tang invaded your senses. Waiting was the only option you considered. Screaming was out, hitting the person probably wouldn’t be the smartest, and running was out too, you kind of didn’t remember which way you’d come from anyways. 

It was discernibly a pair of gloved hands covering you and that ignited the glimmer of hope that sat inside you. Their breathing had enough sound to let you know they were wearing a mask. And when they learned in the same crisp clean scent you’d smelt on Ghost Face overtook you. Maybe you were wrong, but that scent had you relaxing slightly.

He must have felt it somehow because he snickered, “Figured it out already? Or do you just find kidnapping situations comforting?”

Yep, definitely him. A sound of disgust escaped you, “Of course I don't, who would?” 

“I don’t know, you seem like the type.” he had that mocking tone from before. You scoffed, "Yeah? And what types that?"

He removed his hands and turned you around, mask tilted as he regarded you, "sociopaths."

You stared up at him in silence and then, "Wow, sick burn, Dude. You really got me there. But I don't even think that's part of sociopath classification."

The smugness was clear in his voice, "You’d know wouldn’t you, cupcake." He let out a patronizing coo, "My cute little sociopath."

The possessiveness shot a hot rush of arousal down your spine and satisfied that deep dark void inside you, “Mmhmm, well, what's that make you? My psychopath stalker?” He extended a hand to pat your cheek and agreed in that appealing deep voice, “Only when you’re good. Otherwise, I’ll be your psychopathic murderer.” 

You groaned, “Fuck, that shouldn’t turn me on.” His hand dropped to grip behind your neck, “But it does, Cupcake, and that's what makes you special.” That filled you with satisfaction while giving him a smug look of your own, “Oh, I’m special now?” 

He gripped your neck tighter— thumb extending to press just under your jaw bone tilting your head to a deeper incline. He shuffled closer and spoke in a sinful chide, “Well, I don't finger just anyone, I do have standards, Dollface.” You jutted out a lip and snarked, “What? Sociopath a requirement for you?”

He tilted his head, “Wasn’t before, but after you? It’s a prerequisite.” That sentiment had you both giddy and irritated. That you could affect him enough to change his preferences had your arousal growing. But the ‘After you’ didn’t sit right. Not at all. If he could be possessive, then you didn’t see why you couldn’t either. 

That dark void in you whispered viciously that, ‘no, there wasn’t an ‘after you’, not one that he’d enjoy anyway. You’d make sure of that. He got you to admit something you never would have spoken aloud to anyone otherwise. He was probably just doing it for his own amusement to see you struggle, but he’d dug his own grave. There was no way you were letting the person with that knowledge go. 

He had said you were stuck with him, but he was the one stuck with you too. 

Those thoughts must have left you with some kind of look because he tutted at you antagonizingly, “Aw, how precious. She can get a little jealous too? Cute.” he ignored your huff of annoyance, “Don’t worry, you’ll know if I get bored.” 

Needing to change the subject because he was way too smug for your liking, “Anyways, stalk much? How long have you been watching this time.” At your question, he released his hold on you to cross his arms and raise a hand to his mask as if he was mockingly thinking about it, “Hmm, let' see, about when you went to your new friends comfy little camp. Can’t believe they said I was the worst killer to get for a newbie. Talking shit behind my back. Unacceptable.” 

He shook his head and waved a hand, " I mean, look how much you enjoyed it.” 

A blush settled on your cheeks as you silently agreed. Damn, he got you there and you knew that watched feeling back at the fire had been him. He was nothing if not dedicated because he’d been watching for a while, “Bro, that had to be like a few hours ago. You don’t have another trial to get to?” 

He chuckled, “You’re one to talk. Maybe the entity wanted us to have some alone time and you were over there wasting it by trying to play nice. I’ll give you that it was kind of fun to watch though. Seeing how well you put on a little act to blend in with them.” His shoulders shook in a silent laugh, “How well you can lie about being clueless and scared when we both know you’d enjoy gutting them just as much as me. I give it a solid 7.5. Could work on your social skills. ” The flush brightened as you sputtered, “You...you...thats...I don't even know what to say to that.”

“Well, don't injure yourself trying to think of something.” annoyance spiked, “I really want to hit you right now, you asshole.” 

“That's sweet, Cupcake. But you'll have to get in line.” He ignored your threat in favor of pressing into your side, “Anyways, I have somewhere I want to show you.” Irritation still coursed in you, but you were curious, so cautiously you asked, “Show me what?”

He flicked your forehead before answering, “For our date, idiot. I said it could be arranged, so I did.” 

Startled, you made a good impression of a fish opening and closing your mouth before you came back to yourself, “What..that..how many people have you taken on dates here because that was fucking quick.” 

He scoffed and released you, “Oh, did you want lazy?” Pacing away while he grumbled, “Fine, I can leave you here and ignore you for a while if that's the kind of attitude you want to have Cupcake.”

You were flattered, he’d actually followed through, that was rare. It didn’t matter that you were absolutely sure it couldn’t be anything nice. Definitely wouldn’t be taking you out to dinner. But you hated how much you liked that he’d already had something set up, “Oh my god, don't be so dramatic. I’m sorry, I’m just not used to the attention.”

The silence stretched as he regarded you and then he extended a hand, “Yeah, I’d be impressed with me too. So, what are you waiting for, come here.”

You squinted at his outstretched hand suspiciously. 

On one hand, you’d get pulled deeper into whatever this was between the two of you if you listened. But did you really want to get led off to who knows where with him? Ok, that's a dumb question, because yeah, you did. 

But on the other hand, maybe that wasn’t such a good thing if you wanted to fit in with your new buddies back at the fire.

Eh, who were you kidding, you didn’t care about any of them or fitting in. 

Well, It's not like he can kidnap me here…and murders already covered.

Your eyes traveled up his arm to his mask at the thought. You had no idea what this guy even looked like, but it honestly didn’t really matter that much. He just seemed to get you. His head tilted in question as you dropped your gaze back to his hand— he wiggled his fingers. 

So with a sigh, while shaking your head, you reached your hand out to him, “Fuck me, alright, I’ll bite— I mean I’ll go.”

Before you could reach his hand, he snatched your wrist and pulled you to his side. His arm made its home on your shoulder. With a snicker, he pulled you forward, “Now that's an idea, Cupcake.”

He whisked you two off into a different direction than what you'd been going, "You should really be thanking me." You looked up at him, "Oh?" 

"You were about to walk right into the cannibal's territory. He's a nice boy but would have had a field day with you. Couldn’t have that."

“Uhh...Like a real cannibal?” Murder you could deal with, but being eaten? That freaked you out. 

“You know a fake one?” His skepticism rang out clearly and you spoke through clenched teeth, “...Touché. I could be wrong, but don't think I’ve met one before.” He patted the shoulder he had a grip on, “I’m sure you’ll meet him soon. Not very talkative. Likes chainsaws.” 

That made you think, “Are most killers like you or is talking just your specialty?” He strummed his fingers along your arm, “Asking about other killers on our date? It’s like you're trying to hurt my feelings, Cupcake.”

Rolling your eyes you poked his chest, “You’d have to have some to hurt in the first place.” There was an exaggerated gasp, “Now that's a party foul. I have feelings about a lot of things.”

“Uh-huh, here I’m sure I can count them all.” Lifting a hand you counted off on your fingers, “Stalking, voyeurism, stabbing, murder, sadism probably” tilting your chin up to gaze at his mask, “Did I miss any?” he exaggerated the tilt to his head in thought, “You forgot the chase, planning a murder, the story it can tell, writing” nodding with his additions— those seemed about right, the last one unexpected though. Writing? That was interesting. “Oh, and most importantly, me fucking your mom.”

You tripped and cursed as you tried to catch your footing, “Oh my god, Ghost Face! Are you fucking twelve? A mom joke? Really?!” He was laughing at your expense and tugged you even as you rolled your ankle on a twig, “You set it up, I’m just intelligent enough to capitalize on it.”

His grip was really pulling on your shoulder and now your ankle was irritated. Grumbling under your breath as you struggled to keep up, “I think you mean immature enough”. He tugged again and you crashed into his side while he hissed, “Wanna try that again, Cupcake?”

Steadying yourself against him while shaking your head, “Nah, but are you going to answer my actual question?” His hand crept back over to grip your shoulder and he echoed you mockingly, “Nah.” Clicking your tongue in vexation was the only response you gave him. 

Looking around the trees were becoming slowly less abundant and on the horizon, you could surprisingly see what looked like the shape of houses, “So...where are we going?” he kept the steady pace, "You'll see, not much longer now, don't worry."

You hummed in acknowledgment and decided to just stay quiet until you reached wherever he had planned.

The landscape drastically came to a change. Like you’d just walked into a suburban neighborhood. That's probably what Feng meant. Killer territory, huh? Houses lined the block, each with nicely groomed gardens and lawns. Cars were parked here and there. You wondered if any of them worked. There was even a playground type area the two of you passed. 

Everything looked normal if not a little barren. You noticed all the houses were missing doors. An odd thing, but you weren't in the questioning mood. A few cop cars with their lights flashing sat in the middle of the street and added an interesting dynamic to the street lamp lighting. 

"What is this place?" Ghost face only acknowledged your question with a quick, “Not important” as he turned the both of you into one of the houses. Walking through where a front door should be, he brought you into what looked like a living room. There was a roaring fire in a nice freestanding wall fireplace with a convenient comfy looking red couch situated across from it.

Hed let you go so you could look around and you were surprised at how cozy it all felt. Sure the wallpaper looked kinda aged and why the hell wasn’t there a door? But overall the atmosphere of the dark outside, the fire, and a loveseat couch— it was all strangely intimate. You had to wonder again if he did the kinda thing on the regular because damn did he just have this ready?  it's actually kind of nice. Much nicer than you were expecting. 

Before you could voice your poisonous thought there was a yank on the back of your shirt and you felt yourself drop backward, flailing your arms wildley, you were sure he got a laugh out of it. Thankfully you landed on the couch, which had a nice bounce to it. “Hey!” yelping in distress you caught him in your periphery— he was already sitting at the other end legs man-spread with one arm on the back of the couch looking for all the world relaxed.  

He shushed you and pulled out a bottle of an amber liquid with an illegible label. 

“Is that what I think it is?” You marveled at the bottle. Alcohol? Was he carrying that the entire time? Where’d he even get it?

He gave it a little shake and smugly added, “Guess that depends on what's going on up in that noggin. If you guessed Bourbon you’d be right.”

Sass was a language you both spoke, so his didn’t phase you, “How’d you even get that? Is alcohol just laying around? Because I could have really used some of that when I woke up in the dirt.”

He unscrewed the cap slowly “Have to know where to get it, but I’m generous and willing to share.” He divulged in a way that screamed bragging. You really wanted a drink and you didn't even really like alcohol. 

Especially not straight liquor, but holy shit you’d take it. The last time you’d even seen alcohol was back in normal reality and it was really anyone's guess how long ago that was. Absentmindedly you added, “Lucky me.”

He tilted the bottle towards you, “Lucky you is right.” you were leaning towards him to take it when you thought of something, “Wait, how are you going to drink some? Can you through the mask?” 

He let you take the bottle, “I’ll have some if you promise to be a good girl and not look.” you were running a finger around the rim as he said that. It had you flushing and muttering out an “mmhmm, I won't.” After a moment you threw caution to the wind and with as much sass as you could muster, “I mean if you're shy.”

You lifted the bottle and tried to prepare yourself for the taste. When the liquid hit your tongue you remembered why you hadn’t enjoyed alcohol, but the burn hit just right. Ghost Face growled at you, “Sure, call me shy. Just wait until I have you bent over taking it like a little whore. See who's shy then.” 

The bastard had waited until you were mid-swollow to say that. He knew what he did. He must have been trying to kill you because you choked and sputtered on the alcohol, pulling the bottle away, some dribbling down your chin as you tried hard to swallow what you had in your mouth without spitting it out before coughing to clear your throat, “Dude what the fuck!” You wouldn’t acknowledge how that’d made your panties instantly damp.

He snatched the bottle back from you, “Yeah, you’ll be choking just like that too. Probably be just as messy and let it drip down your chin.” 

Fuck. him. Fuck me. Groaning out at how his words sent a hot flush through your system and a dirty pulse right down to your core. Wiping your chin you fumed, “That was a dick move.” He held the bottle by the neck, “Yeah, and you fucking liked it. Probably already wet too. Doesn’t take much for a little slut like you.” 

How the fuck did he know that? Was there some kind of sign on your forehead you didn’t know about? “Now be a good girl and look out the window.” 

You hated him because there wasn’t even an ounce of resistance in you. Fucking hated how good it felt to have him speak to you like that. Hated how easy it was to do exactly what he wanted. Hated or loved. You weren’t really sure. It was a fine line after all.

You heard shuffling and the sound of the liquid sloshing around before he let out a groan that could only be described as auditory sex. It had you flushing with desire again. You gripped your skirt in hand as the temptation to look mounted. Find out what he looked like, what his hair looked like, if he even had hair, what color it was. See his eyes. God, you wanted to see his eyes. See if they were dark or light, how they glittered. Memorize his features and have them burned into your memory forever. 

You wanted that so bad. You wouldn’t of course because, fuck if you weren’t what he called you— a good girl. You’d listen to what he said because it got you off in a way that probably wasn’t healthy— But you’d recently come to realize healthy didn’t seem to be such a big concern. You wanted to be bad. Wished you could. Wanted nothing more at that moment than to sneak a peek at him. See his throat bob as he swallowed. Damn, that mental image sent shivers down your spine. 

Just as you were imagining that, you heard a snap from a leather-gloved hand, “Thinking too hard over there, Cupcake.” you looked back towards him and nothing was out of place. You’d missed your chance. Damn. He held the bottle back out, “Come over here if you want more.”

He didn’t have to entice you with alcohol for that, but it was an easy excuse. So you slide closer until you were nestled into his side. Taking the bottle you took a few deep swigs from it. The burn got easier the more you drank and soon you could feel the flush of alcohol through your system. The arousal you’d already felt amplified, you’d always been a horny drunk— you could feel yourself relax into him. The crackling fire was a nice view. 

On your 5th drink, you looked up to him, “You just want to get me drunk.” He was already looking down at you, “Nah, wouldn’t be any fun with you plastered.” His hand on the back of the couch slid down into your hair, “Closest we’ll get to going out for drinks.” His hand threaded through your locks, “Besides, I don't have to get you drunk for you to let me do whatever I want to you.” 

You squeezed the bottle and pouted while grumbling, “True, but you don't have to sound so smug about it.” He snickered in agreement, “I don't have to, but I want to.”

Taking another sip after feeling your heart pickup and the hot flush pulse straight through you settling in your core. You needed to stop drinking soon. You were a lightweight and you could already feel yourself getting pretty tipsy. So you lifted the bottle for him to take, which he did. 

You went to turn away, but he used the hand still tangled in your hair to hold you still, “I didn’t say for you to move.” you looked at him confused, “I thought you di-” he cut you off and used the hand in your hair to direct your face into his chest. “Just keep your eyes down.” his hand never left your hair. 

More rustling and another deep groan that did things to your insides and had you squirming in your seat. He had no right, absolutely no right to sound that good. He already made you feel hot on the regular, but mix in the alcohol, and now the sounds? Not to mention his mouth. You might as well just die in his lap. He’d probably like that. It had arousal coursing through you like it was your lifeblood. Your nipples were already stiff and begging for attention. 

“Am I gonna have to tie you down? All that squirming.” With your filter lowered from the alcohol you didn’t even think about stopping the moan from escaping you at the threat. He snickered, “Yeah, you would like the idea of that.” You weren’t gonna argue at this point, you just shrugged. 

You felt him release his grip on your hair to smooth it down and settle back into the couch, “So tell me, Cupcake, where are you from. Actually what year is it for you?” That was an odd question, “I’m from a town in West Virginia called Silent Hill. And the year? Why do you need that?” He just made a motion with the hand holding the bottle, “Humor me.” you had to think for a second. What year had it been? “Uh, well it was 2013 last I checked.”  

The hand in your hair made its way down to the back of your neck, “Nice, we’re from relatively the same time period.” Your head shot up at that, “What? There's different time periods here?” He just nodded, “Yeah, it's a clusterfuck. Lots of 80's but it's really all over the place. You’re just a few years ahead of me though. I could still hunt you down if we somehow, unfortunately, get out of this thing.” you couldn’t say that you didn’t like the idea that he could find you even back home. 

“Now that's out of the way, how come you haven’t done it yet?” You stiffened at his question. Thank god he’d plied you with alcohol, you'd probably have shut down and avoided this hard otherwise. You knew exactly what he was asking. Why you hadn’t killed yet. “I...It...I just..” you weren’t sure what exactly to say. You just hadn’t. The opportunity was usually inconvenient and your job kept you busy.  

There were times you’d had to fight yourself to not do it though. There were some people that made it so tempting to give in. But you’d won against the urges each time. He somehow made you feel like you’d lost. Like you should have done it. “You really are too much of a good girl, huh? Need to kill that small conscience of yours instead.” The acidic way it rolled off his tongue didn’t seem like praise this time.

The alcohol coursing through your system wanted you to quickly correct that. “No, my conscience doesn’t mind. I..I think about it a lot. I came really close once. I was right there.” The way you’d said it sounded like you were grieving a loss. You guessed in some weird way, you were. 

Reaching up for the bottle and he let you take it. As you chugged a healthy gulp you felt the hand that the back of your neck dropped to your waist. “Oh? What stopped you?” 

You relished the burn in your throat before handing him the bottle and deciding that was your last. No more or you’d be on the sloppy side of tipsy, “My job.” his hand on your waist tightened, “And what jobs that?” You looked up to his mask, “I'm an aerialist for Cirque Du Soleil shows.” That caught his attention, “Oh, so she's flexible.” You snorted like you hadn’t heard that before. “How’d that stop you?” 

You found a loose thread on your skirt and zeroed in on it, “Usually it keeps me too busy...but once when we were on tour, well, it was the closest I’d come. We're usually international and most of the time we stay in that country for about a month or two depending— a perfect setup.” You moved on to picking at your nails, “There was someone there that I ran into consistently when I went off exploring the city.” You felt Ghost Face’s hand slip under your shirt to grip at your bare waist. The feel of his leather against your skin had your nerves light up. It was only your waist, but somehow it was like a livewire straight to your core. You were back to squirming in your seat. “I’m not gonna describe the person, they’re not important.” His silence said go on as he squeezed your side.

“We got to know each other and I just...Something about them made me...It was the way they moved, maybe? I think? I don't know...I just,” You were squirming with arousal remembering what you’d felt back then, “I couldn’t get it out of my head. Needed to have it. Needed whatever it was inside them.” He lifted you up onto his lap, your back to his chest, his thigh splitting between yours. Fuck, he felt so solid, so good under you. 

“Yeah? Needed it bad?” His hand on your waist dropped to grip your hip and direct your movement. Your head fell back against his shoulder. His other hand reached up under your shirt to squeeze your cleavage through your bra.

You kept moaning out as he dragged your hips across his thigh, “I knew what I wanted to do to them. What I wanted to make them look like. I thought about it. God, I thought about it so much.” he reached under your bra to give a quick squeeze and then pinched your aching nipple. 

You hissed out a moan, your panties drenched and your breathing was out of control, “Did you get off thinking about what it’d feel like to finally do it? Finally, kill them?” He pushed his thigh up into your core, rocking just right and it hit your clit so good. 

You cried out at the feeling and then at the question, “Yes. Fuck, yes I did. It was so good. Ohh, you’re so good... I’d get so wet thinking about it.” His hand switched to your neglected breast, “Yeah? Like how your cunts drenching my thigh right now?” 

Rapidly nodded was all you could manage through your moans, but he quickly admonished you, “Ah ah, I want you to say it.” He rocked your hips hard and your clit caught against the pattern of his leather and shit, it had you moaning out, “Yeah, had my pussy wet like now.” he cooed at you, “Good girl, dirty fucking girl. Keep going.” 

A shuddering breath left you as he quickened the rocking of your hips, “I had a plan. Ev—erything set. Ahh, fuck that's, oh god” You moaned into his neck and then whispered, “I was right there, I could almost taste it. It was so exhilarating. They had no id-idea, ahh, Ghost Face, fu-uck..no idea I was even a threat. They just thought I wanted to fuck.” 

He chuckled at that, “They wouldn’t have been able to satisfy your whore cunt anyways. Not like this can.” you groaned and whined your agreement into his neck before continuing, “Just before I was a-about to g—go through with my plan my j—ob ended our tour early. There was some kind of permit issues suddenly and we were being...Oh fuck, please, please, please…” You were a begging mess and you didn’t even care how desperate you sounded. He continued to alternate between your breast, teasing your nipples with the feel of the leather. Grinding you roughly onto his thigh, “Keep going, Cupcake.”

Your mind was hazy, you could barely think with what he was doing, where had you been? Oh right, “W-we were being relocated to the ne—xt country effective im-immediately. I probably could have still gone through with it...but it was ruined. Didn't have the same appeal.”

Ghost Face had pushed your bra fully out of the way and was playing with your tits freely while his grip on your hip still dictated your pace. “I get it babe, Has to be on your terms.” He stilled your hips and you whined, “Please, please Ghost Face, please don't stop.” He had you whimpering with how bad you wanted to keep rocking on his thigh, “Describe what you wanted to do. Tell me all the disgusting delicious details and I’ll let you cum all over my thigh.” The hand playing with your breast slid up to grip your throat, “Fuck, yes totally...god that's so hot. You...oh fuck right there.” 

He’d started rocking your hips and gripped your throat tighter, “Fuck! It wasn’t anything exciting. I’d been back to their ap-partment plenty of times. Knew the lay out-t, knew wh-where they kept the kn-ives.” he hummed in appreciation, “Using a knife? After my own heart.” you leaned back into him more and felt something rock hard brush up against your ass. 

The hiss he let out was masked by the lewd sound from you when you realized how hard he was. You pushed your ass against him as you continued to grind,  “Yeah, there was a k-knife of theirs I liked...fuck, ohhh keep doing that, please! ...It had these pr-pretty swirling engravings...Ahh! You feel so good.” He groaned as you dragged against him hard, “I had a li-little evening planned...ohhh Ghost Face, you feel so fucking good….with them. We’d have dinner, watch a movie” You had a shaky intake of breath at how your rocking was putting delicious pressure against your clit, “And I could never exactly decide on wh-which way I wanted to do it. I had t-two I lik—ed. So I kept the knife on my th-thigh under m-y skirt.” 

He fully pulled you back against him while bunching your skirt around your waist and pushing your ruined panties to the side. The feel of leather on your bare pussy had you shaking in a sob. It rubbed against you in all the right ways. Grinding you roughly on his hard on while his hand still gripped your throat. “Yeah? Tell me what you wanted to do to them. Tell me what my filthy Cupcake wanted” you groaned at how sexy his voice was. Fuck, he was completely wrecking you. 

It was so good. Fuck he gets me so hot, “ I could never decide if I wanted to slit their throat on the co-couch. Deep eno—ugh to cut their vocal cords, so they couldn’t ss-scream while I looked for what made them tick. Take what I wanted from inside. Or tie them to the bed gagged and play with stabbing them— feel the fight die in them. Then take what I wanted.” 

He groaned next to your ear and ground against you hard, “You're so fucking cute— playing with your food. Which made you cum harder?” Groaning you tried to think, “The couch one….oh god right there, please!” groaning into his neck he helped you move rapidly against him, “You’re gonna fucking cum on my lap and then you’re gonna clean it up, understand?” 

Reverently rocking against him you cried out, “Yes! Fuck yes! Please!” The idea of cleaning your cum off his leather and then hopefully have him fuck your throat had you whimpering and squirming wildly. You wanted anything he was willing to give. He groaned in your ear, “You’re so fucking filthy telling me about a murder you were planning. I fucking love it. Such a nasty filthy little slut for me.” 

Sobbing all you could do was grind harder against him, “Say it.” You sucked in a shaky breath, “Fuck, I’m ohhh, I’m a filthy slut for you Ghost Face!” he growled in your ear, “That’s fucking right you are. If I was in that little scenario, I’d let you slit their throat and have you sit on my cock as they bled out.” 

You pushed back against him and moaned loud and hard, “Have you moaning just like that. spread you open so they could see your pretty pussy stretched around me while they couldn’t do anything but watch. They'd hear how fucking wet your cunt is for me, watch as I pounded you and how you’d take it” He rocked up against, “Take it like the good fucking girl you are.” 

You were sobbing with how much you needed to cum. The alcohol was making everything so much more intense. You were almost there, just a little more and you’d cum all over him. In a breathy sob you whimpered, “Yes...yes! I’d be so good for you!” pushing you roughly against his leg while his hand that was around your throat slid up to your lips. 

Instantly you opened your mouth to let two of his fingers in. The leather felt so good against your tongue as he spread them around and played with your mouth, “Then fucking do it, you whore. Show me I own this cunt and cum.” You cried around the digits in your mouth as your clit caught against his pants again and sent your orgasm shattering through you. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head and your back arched away from him. With your blood rushing in your ears you never even heard the snap of his camera. 

He let you continue to slowly grind against him as you sobbed around his fingers in your come down. After a moment you went flaccid against him and he pulled his fingers out of your mouth. You felt so good. More fulfilled than you ever had before. His hands were soothing up and down your sides helping you come back to yourself. 

His soft whispers of how good you were, how dirty you were for him drifted into your awareness at the same time that his rock solid cock pressed against your ass. Getting your breath under control while he caressed your waist. Taking a deep breath you let it out and slid yourself down his lap to the floor. Turning to kneel between his thighs you looked up at him. His arm had made its way back up over the couch and you could see the stiff bulge in his pants. His other hand reached out and gripped your chin, “Look at that, I don’t even have to tell you twice.” 

You looked up at him pathetically, God you wished you could see his face or even just his eyes, “I want it. Please...please, let me do it? I want to do it.” you were gripping his knees looking at him desperately. You really wanted to make him moan just as much as he’d made you. His thumb brush your bottom lip, “Of course you fucking do. Clean up the mess you made then, Cupcake.” 

As soon as the permission left his mouth you were on him dragging your tongue up his thigh. The leather was slippery with the taste of your own cum making it tangy against your pallet. Your eyes closed as you moaned against him. You obediently worked your way up the thigh you’d ridden as you felt his hand smooth through your hair. When you heard a click your eyes shot up to him. 

He had his camera out one hand holding your hair back the other taking pictures, “Stick your tongue out for me.” You did as he asked, tongue sitting against his leather-clad thigh, “now drag it up nice and slow.” You kept staring into the camera all the while. “That’s it. Now keep going” You did until there was nothing left on his thigh.

Leaning into him more you licked all the way up to his straining cock between his legs. Moaning, you licked around the area making sure to graze your check against his straining cock on every pass. He groaned and gripped your hair in a tight fist, “You’re such a cock tease”.

He pushed your face against his clothed cock and had you rub against it until he pulled your head up suddenly, “Here's what's going to happen, Cupcake. You're going to take my cock out, play with it some, and then I’m going to fuck your face. Sound good?” Your eyes fluttered. That's exactly what you’d wanted. Even though you’d come less than 5 minutes ago— you were ready for another one.  

You sounded so desperate in your answer, “Sounds so fucking perfect.” Without waiting for a response you went to reach down, but his grip yanked your head back, pulling your eyes back up to him, “No touching that pussy unless I tell you to.” 

You pouted up at him, that was going to suck. You were going to get inconveniently wet from this. Oral was something you actually enjoyed doing. But you wanted to be good for him. Just had to keep your hands on him instead. Once you finally nodded he finally released you, “Get to it then.” He leaned back into the couch watching as you dove down to release him.

You pulled him out of his pants and fuck he looked delicious. 

He was definitely above average in height, thick, and the head was an angry swollen purple red. He looked so fucking good. Precome already dripping from the tip. Unconsciously licking your lips you smeared the tip across your lips and then both cheeks before bringing him back to your lips and giving the tip a lick with the flat of your tongue. The moan he let out had your pussy clenching around nothing. 

You looked up as you gave him a few kitten licks and he was looking down, watching you, taking a few pictures. You made him moan like that and it was so fucking satisfying. 

When you took the tip in your mouth and flattened your tongue against him you felt a hand settle on the back of your head. You released the tip and went to the base of him— rubbing your cheek against him you then placed an open mouth kiss to the base. Giving it a slight suck you felt the hand run through your hair as he groaned out. 

You could feel yourself getting wet enough that some was slipping down your thigh. Flattening your tongue against the underside you dragged up against the vein running up to the tip— he let out a rich moan that ended with a groaned, “F-fuck.”. Giving his frenulum a few licks you looked up as you felt the hand tighten in your hair. His head was thrown back against the couch and his breathing was labored. You’d done that. Another rush shot down your spine making you slicker. 

You wrapped your lips around the tip again and tongued the opening. He gasped as you circled your tongue around his pulsing tip. His hand moved deeper into your hair as you took a little more in and slowly gave a good suck, hands working his base, “Fuck— look at you..so good”. 

Lavishing the frenulum at his praise before you sank him down until he hit the back of your throat. He choked out a groan, “Feels so-o good, Cupcake”. The silky feeling of him felt so damn good against the roof of your mouth. You hummed in appreciation and his hand gripping your hair tightened. 

Both hands were working his base as you bobbed back to the tip. Giving one more lick to the tip you opened your jaw wider and took him all the way down to the base, swallowing around him. “Fu-uck—” His hand gripped your hair in a fist now as he held you down, “Fucking little cockslut” He groaned, “Your mouth is so fucking good.” your pussy clenched again and there was a pulse in your clit at his words. Swallowing around him again before you bobbed back up to the tip. You set a manageable pace with your hands working his base while you bobbed up and down. He was rasping out groans regularly now. He’d let you set the pace until now, but his grip on your hair was now directing your moment. “Your dirty mouth is so fucking good.” 

He was roughly shoving you up and down his shaft, “You were fucking made to suck my cock like this.” You moaned against him and swallowed around him when he shoved down your throat, “This w-what you needed, isn’t it? My cock stuffed down your fucking throat!” You swallowed again and his hips jerked up against you. 

He snarls down at you, “Shit, you fucking slut.” He pulled you up and shoved you back down, “Pretty fucking girl. T-taking it s-so good. All fucking mine.” His voice was just as rough as his movement. Tears were running down your cheeks from the burn of him in your throat. It felt so good to have him like this, everything he was doing, how rough he was, have him call you his. 

You had to grip his thighs to stop your hands from moving into your panties. Your hips had started bucking uncontrollable— looking for some kind of relief. He rasped at you in a straining voice, “You’re so f-fucking pretty with my cock in your m-mouth.” you moaned as best you could around his quick pace, “I’m gonna c-cum all over your pretty little fucking f-face!” he suddenly ripped you off and started to vigorously stroke himself over you. 

Without him asking you’d already had your mouth open tongue out waiting— whining for it, “F-fuck! You’re so fu-cking—” before he could finish that sentence you felt a spurt against your cheek— a thick rope running over your nose and eye. Another spurt on your other cheek before his tip was suddenly against your tongue filling your mouth with the last few spurts. You sat there moaning at the salty tang in your mouth, but not swallowing— hips still squirming in arousal. You heard his heavy breathing before you heard the telltale sound of his camera. 

“Open your fucking eyes and look at me.” You did as asked and could see his cum strung between your upper and lower lashes on the left. Looking at him you saw him taking pictures, “Shit, you look so good covered in my cum.” You brought your hand up to your open mouth and dipped your fingers in the cum. Spreading your fingers around in it you heard him hiss on his inhale. 

Some of his cum dripped out of your mouth, rolled down your chin to drop down your throat. You looked at him through fluttering lashes, playing with his cum in your mouth, while your hips were still rolling, “What’d I tell you earlier? So fucking messy.” He groaned when you let more spill out, some running down your hand now too, “Shit! Fucking swallow it you cumslut.” Making a show of it you tipped your head back, swallowed hard, and opened your mouth back up to show him. 

He reached out and gripped your chin— swiping up some of the cum that’d spilled out he pushed his thumb into your mouth. You swiped your tongue against his glove and cleaned it off while staring up at him, “Get on the fucking couch, face down, ass in the air.” 

You let go of his thumb, “Wha—” He cut you off, “Shut up and do it!” So you did, his cum still on your cheek smearing against the fabric, “Keep your fucking eyes closed and face down or I stop.” You were about to question him when you felt his hands pull down your panties and a second later a hot, so hot tongue licked a strip through your folds. 

“Knew you’d get so fucking wet from blowing me. I wanted a taste.” you cried out “Ohh fuck” your back stiffening at the sensation. You pushed your hips back as you shoved your face into the cushions. “That’s right, needy girl. I got you.” His hands slipped up the backs of your thighs as he dragged his tongue over you again. 

He lapped at you like a starved man and you whimpered. He circled your clit and then sucked it between plush lips. Fuck, his lips felt so damn amazing! You couldn’t keep the whining sobs from escaping you as you ground back against his face, “Oh! Fuck, Ghost Face, gmmhh!”. You could feel a slight stubble along his jaw scraping against you every so often. And holy shit did knowing that hit just right. 

He slipped a finger in while he kept giving attention to your clit. You shuddered a sob and balled a fist. He was fucking wrecking you. He slipped a second on in and scissored them. Your hips kept pushing back against him as he licked through your folds. You weren’t going to last, you’d been so wound up from the face fucking and now he was eating you like a messy peach with his fingers fucking into you? You could feel it rise up in you. Your voice coming out in a higher pitch with a string of 

“Please- Please- Please- Please!” and he gave a harsh suck to your clit while tonguing it roughly with his fingers hooked inside you— sent you over the edge. You came with a needy cry while faintly hearing yourself chanting, “Ghost Face, oh Ghost Face”. You were trembling and could feel the aftershocks rolling through you before he slowly pulled away. 

You could hear him shuffling around but you couldn’t even move if you’d wanted to. The man had killed you. Murdered you with an orgasm. So when you felt his hands moving you there was no resistance. He settled you back into his side with one of your legs over his lap. You were trying to find yourself in the pleasure haze still in your brain. You could feel him playing with your hair, but you didn’t feel your eyes closing. There was just a relaxed sigh— you or him? You couldn’t remember.

[thosch3i]

Xiao Yuliang Interview [Eng Trans]

[Photo: XYL’s dog]

so remember this post? yeah well i wound up doing a mostly full translation of the entire 6 minute interview on twitter. some parts are paraphrased and a few details were skipped bc he sometimes repeated himself and there were one or two details i wasn’t 100% sure of, but other than that an eng transcript of the full interview is below the cut:

1. Introduce your role in "Ultimate Note"?

XYL: In Ultimate Note I play Zhang Qiling, Xiaoge.

2. What kind of impression does this character leave in your heart?

XYL: Before, I thought he was a really strong, and then a very cool, and then a very cold/detached person. But later, I finished reading the novel and read the script, and I felt like he's someone who lets your heart ache for him. The feeling he gives me--because once I was reading the script in a car, and I almost wanted to cry for him, because he's always searching for the things he's lost. And he's very strong, but he wasn't born strong; he also went through a lot, and he made himself strong. He can bleed, and he can get hurt; it's just that he doesn't say anything, and he doesn't show that he's in pain.

3. Talk about the initial pressure of receiving this role?

XYL: When I got this role, the pressure was really really big, but I also thought I was pretty lucky, because I'd played Zhang Qiling before, and I get to play him again, and I think that's pretty lucky. But the pressure is too big, on set right now, the pressure is very big.

4. Netizens were pretty satisfied with your performance; have you seen these comments?

XYL: When Sha Hai was airing, I saw their comments. Some of them approved, and I was happy, but others--like, saying some suggestions or opinions--I also looked at them. I also looked at the performances of other actors who played Zhang Qiling and comments on their performances. I used them as a reference, and I learned from the experiences/evaluations of others.

5. What was the greatest challenge of playing Zhang Qiling?

XYL: The biggest challenge is that there are too few lines. It's really hard to act! [Xiaoge] has some expressions where it's just, you can't make them too obvious or too "unrestrained" because his actions are also very restrained, but if you're too restrained then everyone just thinks you don't have any reactions. And the editors are also very hardworking, because they'll have 4 pages, and I won't have a single line, just reactions. The others will talk for 10 minutes, and I'll just be reacting. [Xiaoge] is a person with few/no words, but with his whole heart, he wants to go care for others...it's very difficult; this "no lines" is very difficult. Another thing is fight scenes are very difficult, and the weather is too hot.

6. What are some scenes that left the deepest impression on you?

XYL: Like when it's 3am, and we're running through a wild river, the water is all up to our waists, and we don't know what's underground. I was just afraid there were snakes, you know? Nothing we can do, just run. And there's also, because the filming location is at Xishuangbanna, there really are snakes. We've seen snakes etc on set, so we were afraid accidents would happen. Thankfully they didn't. And there was also when we were rubbing mud on our faces during the hot day. Actually, what we were rubbing was chocolate paste. When the chocolate on our faces dried, we spread on more, and it feels like you've become a "chocolate person", not a "mud person". I also tasted it--the BTS side clips recorded it; the taste is okay. [t/n: here is a link to that clip]

7. How did it feel working with the other actors in the crew?

XYL: Liu Yuning-laoshi [t/n: Hei Xiazi] is really nice. He doesn't have a temper, and he's a very calm and tranquil person. I think he's really nice. Xiao Xi [t/n: lit. “Little Xi”, nickname for Zeng Shunxi aka Wu Xie] is a little mischievous. Xiao Xi likes to stir up trouble on set and play around. In any case he plays around with Pangzi and me, but Liu Yuning-laoshi is more tranquil, not quite the same as [his character] in the show.

8. Before you posted a vlog caring for your pet on Weibo, why don't you introduce your pet?

XYL: My dog's name is a character I played once; my mom named him. Because we'd just finished filming that show, and then my mom got a dog, so she just called him my name in the show. Tell me, isn't that annoying? [t/n: drama was called 反骗天下/Fan Pian Tian Xia and his role was called 米若/Mi Ruo; his dog is apparently called 米诺/Mi Nuo.]

9. You've been an actor for awhile now; can you discuss what being an actor feels like?

XYL: Initially, before I became an actor, I thought, "Oh, cool". Everyday you're just, wow, holding weapons, cool! But now I think it's so hard. Especially while shooting this show, I got a sty for a month, and it's still not better even now. [t/n: you can definitely see the swelling under his eye in ep1] I think this sty is from accepting this role, or because of work. In any case, it's still not better. But it's no problem; thankfully, my hair can cover it. You also have to be careful of safety on set; real blades can slice open your hands. Once, I wasn't careful and cut my wrist, but thankfully the doctor's stitching skills were pretty good. When he was still stitching, I even said, "Doctor, you have to stitch it well, okay, I'm an actor, I use this hand to perform", and he said "Okay". After the stitches were done, he asked me, "Are you satisfied with the stitches?" The results were pretty good; it didn't really leave a scar.

10. Finally, promote this show to our fans.

XYL: You all have to watch our "Ultimate Note", because filming was really tough, and we've diligently tried to accomplish these three roles [t/n: the iron triangle, I’m assuming] and later on some of the the details of many of the books. I hope you will see similarities to the novel in some of the show's scenes.

and we are done! so yeah, i think his take on xiaoge’s character was the most important part, but some of the other stuff (listening to him complain about some things lmao) was kinda funny too. im still laughing about the whole ‘im an actor i need this hand to perform’ bit bc dude you literally sliced yourself open w a knife badly enough to need stitches but that’s your first priority???? glad you’re dedicated to your job though i guess but LOL

Quick question/answer:

1. What do you want to say to Zhang Qiling?

XYL: Xiaoge, you've worked hard.

2. Who from the show would you pick to go with you on an adventure?

XYL: I’ll choose...I'll choose Pangzi, because he'll definitely bring food. And he's fat, and he's pretty joyful, oh right, I can also bully him.

3. Describe the level of your cooking skills.

XYL: Cooking skills? The rank of instant noodles. Just boiling instant noodles, then adding the flavor packets, and then tomatoes, eggs...instant noodles.

4. If you're not restricted, what kind of role do you most want to play?

XYL: If I'm not restricted, then I want to play that guy who, in the morning, is just delivering takeout or is really well-behaved and wears glasses, that type, and then at night he pushes his hair back like this [xyl mimes pushing his hair back], and he starts to....different types...in any case, like split personalities, right, split personalities.

5. A sentence to describe your ideal life.

XYL: My family and I are healthy, and I have enough money to go live a normal life, eat/drink whatever I want, travel with my family, and just grow up slowly.

oh right additional note, in zsx's interview, when asked which character he'd take, he said xiaoge without hesitation. and the interviewer asked if he wanted to know who xiaoge picked and zsx was all "he didn't pick me did he...I'll be leaving now, thank you~" 😂

[thewritersguardianangel-blog]

hey there!, so my protagonist is on a redemption journey after killing a young guy willingly, and i am quite done with the main plot and almost everything, but i can't get hold of how to make the redemption arc believable, do you have any tips on how i can make it easy for the reader to understand and forgive the protagonist? also god bliss you're truly a savior.

Hey there!!

So, fun fact, but redemption arcs are some of favorite things probably ever. I eat redemption for breakfast. Because I love them, not to prove I’m tough. I actually wrote a really long post on writing Redemption Arcs once, so the first thing I am going to do is direct you to that! Redemption Arcs!

But now that I’m on the subject, I am going to reiterate some points and elaborate on a few things that might make understanding and forgiving the protagonist a lot easier on the reader! (Read that post first though!)

Alright, so the number one thing that I like to make very clear when it comes to this sort of arc: redemption is a choice. And it’s not just a choice that you make once- you don’t just feel bad and change your ways over night. It’s a choice that you have to make and stick to. The fact that the character is choosing to change themselves should already score a few points with the reader, too. Personally, I know I approve of someone striving to better themselves. That’s already something the reader can sympathize with.

Also remember that redemption is an arc! I have links to my posts on character arcs on the redemption post, but for right here and now I can break down a few phases of this very important journey and tell you how to really make them more sympathetic.

1. The Heat of the Moment: First things first- the crime. Your character did something bad. That is never something that you should deny or omit. Everyone does bad things, and your character maybe did something especially bad- in this case, willingly killing a young guy. The fact is, killing someone is bad. Before anything else, note that right now I am not about to tell you how to justify their crime- only to help the reader understand it.

Whatever they did, they did for a reason. The idea is to help the readers understand that reason. Maybe they felt they had no other choice, or that the guy posed a threat, or maybe they had been influenced by others to do something they wouldn’t normally, maybe it was a different situation that got wildly out of hand, maybe they were just a horrible person back then but they’ve changed now,  or whatever. Even if you don’t agree with the reason or their choices, the first step to sympathizing with a character is to understand where they were coming from or what was going on inside their minds and how they felt.

2.  Accepting Responsibility: Okay, so at some point after the crime, possibly after a lot of exploration and growth, or possibly right away, depending on the character, your character feels really bad. This is one of the most important parts of making a reader more sympathetic to a character after they have done something horrible- the character must accept responsibility. No dodging the truth or attempting to justify their actions. This is important because acceptance is the first major choice a character makes when beginning a redemption journey. They fully recognize what they did, how it was bad, and accept responsibility for the consequences of their actions, whatever that may mean.

3. Following Through: The next steps are going to be the actions that your character takes following the recognition of their wrongdoings. The actions that they take can vary depending of the character, the wrong they committed, the setting, etc, but typically courses can involve:

-Seeking Punishment: Many times the first thing a guilty character will seek to do is “turn themselves in”. However, a lot of times and for various reasons this may not work out- there may be no one to turn to, or the may be commanded to make up for their actions in other ways, etc. Redemption arcs tend to stop cold when the person is just sentenced to death or prison. In fact it’s not really a redemption.*

*Why not? 

-Righting Old Wrongs: The next thing they might want to do is to fix whatever damage they caused, if at all possible. This again depends on what they did and why, but ultimately it can mean making apologies and amends, helping to rebuild, and generally attempting to look after those they have hurt in the past, if at all possible. Keep in mind that it is up to your other characters whether they wish to accept that apology, but it can mean a lot to the reader at least they tried.

-Correcting Future Actions: Finally, they need to move forward in a way that shows that they have learned from their past mistakes, not only by not repeating them, but also by striving to be better in general. When you have left behind a legacy of mistakes, it takes a lot more effort to get out from the shadow of your past in the eyes of others and make up for what you did. Even if it’s just a personal journey, most characters would feel the need to hold themselves to a higher standard from then on.

4. Slip-Ups: Like with any sort of arc or journey, there might be a few moments where the character makes a mistake again. Everyone does. However, when a character has a history of terrible deeds, they are going to be scrutinized in their every action even throughout their arc. Even if your character has moments of weakness or slipping back into old ways, it should 1) never be to the extent of their original negative actions, and 2) ultimately help reaffirm/lead them back to their journey of atonement. Sometimes, it may seem that going back to their old ways would be easier and very tempting. When they slip up or are tempted, but then get back on the track towards goodness, it shows that they are strong in their resolve to be good for goodness’ sake, even if it is the more difficult thing to do… because it’s the right thing to do. This is a second major choice that proves that your character is truly changed.

Closing Points:

A lot of situations are going to depend on your specific character, their situation, and whatever it was that caused them to seek redemption in the first place. However:

- In order to really seek redemption, they actually have to have done something bad. Not just mildly questionable, but actually, truly problematic. Otherwise, it’s meaningless- the point of a redemption arcs is to show that you can come back from your mistakes.

- Redemption (like all arcs) are all about choices! Your character proves their development through choosing to do better. They really have to want to do good and strive to  follow through on that promise.

- Mistakes happen. Accidentally murdering people again doesn’t. If they are going to slip up, they can’t do a 180, and then flip flop back again when they realize that they want to be good. It’s not that simple to switch sides.

- The reactions of others are going to vary. Some might be more quick to forgive than others. And when you’ve done something like killing a person, that’s pretty justified. 

- Your readers are also going to vary in reaction. You can use the tips above to make their journey more sympathetic, but also be understanding of the fact that no one has to forgive anybody after they’ve done something horrible. 

- Read the Redemption post for additional general tips and the Character Arcs Post for help on pacing the arc in a realistic way. 

Blessings upon you and the writing of this redemption arc! I hope this helps.

~Penemue

[rndyounghowze]

An Evening of Online Plays Right in our Living Room Directed by Missouri S&T Theatre

By: Ricky and Dana Young-Howze

St. Louis, Missouri

It was a cool and rainy evening when Dana and I followed the Zoom link and joined viewers across the country to see "An evening of Online Plays"

Produced by Missouri S&T Theatre. One of our dear friends Erin Lane had one of her pieces in the bill of four 10 minute plays to be presented that night and invited us to come watch. This night of online theater, produced by Taylor Gruenloh and presented by Missouri S&T theatre students was our first time reviewing a Zoom Production and definitely will not be our last.

This was directed by two students of Missouri S&T's directing program. When classes were cancelled for Victoria Hagni and Madeline Lechner their professor Taylor Gruenloh knew that unless they actually produced a finished project it wouldn't feel as if the two students weren't getting the most out of their independent study. So they quickly changed gears and commissioned ten minute plays from four playwrights from my graduate program Hollins University that would work perfectly in a Zoom format. This livestream is that final result.

It's worth mentioning what Dana and I are looking for when we review a production produced on an online platform streamed out of people's homes. We of course are looking at the level of acting and the production value of the plays but we are also looking at how this new medium of performance is taken advantage of and how the artists worked within those constraints. We are definitely as much beginners at reviewing this as the artists are performing in it. We also know that these students were ramping up and learning for something completely different than pioneering a new artform so we empathize. So now that we know we're both adjusting to a learning curve let's get down to the nitty gritty.

We've decided to talk about the plays grouped by the director not in the order that they were presented and since these were brand new plays written just for the production we're reviewing the plays too.

First we're looking at the plays directed by Madeline Lechner.

De-Equalized by Amy Lytle is a play about two students Katie (played by Natalie Arnold) and Jordan (played by Adam Bateman) who are working on a group project while they are separated on spring break.

I'll admit putting this play up as the first play we see was a very eerie experience. Not just because it was about two students talking about a group project over Zoom but also because this was Dana and my first primer into what a Zoom production is. Seeing the screen jump back and forth between the two actors like it was cutting back and forth like in a movie was bizarre but I was immediately intrigued by the possibilities.

I was very impressed with the actors trying their hardest to emote to somebody that is not physically in the room with them. I felt like Arnold did a better job at this than her acting partner. I can only imagine having to not only keep myself cheated open for the audience but also knowing that my acting partner is a small post card sized picture on a screen. Also knowing that your performance depends on the connectivity of your device and the tilt of your camera is probably as big of a rush as tightrope walking. But because of this feeling of risk some of their emotions seemed to go stagnant. I needed to feel like this energy could travel eight hundred miles.

This could have been an acting problem but I definitely feel like some of this sits on Lechner's shoulders as a director. If the energy isn't shaking the rafters you definitely need to find ways to ramp your actors up. But we also feel like the playscript didn't give them higher stakes to begin with. Not everyone reveals family secrets doing homework. Also Dana never believed she was going to walk out on him which really did kill the stakes.

As for the play Dana noticed there was a lot of exposition about scholarship and financial aid that anyone watching a college show would know. We would hope that in a further draft the playwright would trust her audience more. I loved the idea of students finding out something about a friend that they didn't know before but also wish that the action had started way earlier. The play spent so much time on exposition I feel like the play didn't start until the eight minute mark and then they only had two minutes left. In a future draft I really hope this is addressed.

Also directed by Lechner was Breathe by Erin Lane a play about Dory (played by Raelyn Twohy) and Michael (played by Michael Ellis) two parents having to coparent while being separated and trying to calm each other down while also trying to appear strong for the other.

I love that this play made use of ANY kind of action and it was a great refresher from Lechner's previous piece. I still would have asked for much more. Also Dana got the sense that this play was supposed to have a lot of chaos in it but in her words it was "the calmest chaos she's ever seen". I agree. Especially if this is a play about getting the results of a test be it Covid-19, AIDS, pregnancy, or even strep I think you would feel a TAD more tense than that. This harkens back to what I said before about Lechner and getting energy out of her performers. As a director I will tell her you have to do whatever it takes to get that energy out of your cast because if we as an audience don't feel it we're gone. This was a great first outing and if I'm sounding tough it's because I feel she does have potential to do well in the future. Just get that energy in!

As for the acting it seemed that while Dana and I believed the Dad instantly we felt something was "held back" from us. We don't know if that was an acting problem or a writing problem. I am leaning heavily towards acting because of the several "I forgot my line" pauses and constant repeats of cue lines we normally see in high school productions. I personally think it must have been hard to show so much emotion just using your eyes and not having a full stage to work with but if these pauses normally just slow down a stage show on Zoom they felt like an eternity.

This play utilized my very favorite kind of exposition where everything we needed to know about the action was fed to us through something that we already knew. We all know that kind of back and forth between a Mom and Dad as they suss out parenting. But then you have this through the lens of long distance. Someone can't be home and now they have to trust someone else to get it done. This is the coolest kind of love story for me. However due to dropped lines and pauses I totally lost the part where Dory is a nurse and that she's taking a Covid-19 test. Dana had to tell me based on her scrubs. I hope that a future production of this play has the faster pace and the higher stakes it deserved.

Also a quick note: I know that no one is really pioneering Zoom set design just yet but I feel that I have to mention the black curtain behind Ellis's back. Dana and I have a running joke where we wonder if there is a "different play behind the curtain" that's more interesting than the one we're seeing. This presented a literal version of that for us where we spent more time wondering what was behind that curtain than listening to what he was saying. Out of love for these actors and with mad respect for what they're doing even if the curtain is hiding dead bodies we kinda hope it isn't there in the future. You guys rock and deserve better than that.

Next we'll be talking about the plays directed by Victoria Hagni.

In Scaramouch and Pinochle by Mike Moran we meet Lizzie (played by Megan Baris) and Bella (played by Haley Jenkins) two sisters who were separated when they were little and adopted by families across the country. Now they're reconnecting.

I loved that this play involved some action that fills up the camera frame and that Hagni gave the actresses some business to do such as painting nails and looking for things. If you think of the screen as your proscenium arch then you start to realize that you can utilize all of that space to tell your story.

Dana loves the use of props and the chemistry between the two actresses even though there were some moments that seemed like they were talking more at the screens than to each other. As you guys know I'm a sucker for puppets so even a sock puppet wormed it's way into my heart.

As for the script I feel like the realization about the Mom’s death and other family drama wasn’t "earned". There was no build up to it so I don't know whether it really happened or if our character was just lying. Where the chemistry between the actresses seemed natural the tense moments in the play didn’t seem natural. Overall it was a very cute play and with a couple more revisions it would be perfect.

In Folies a Deux/Pas de deux by Kevin D. Ferguson we meet Amanda Toye as Woman and Luke Goekner as Man. They are a couple with an interesting history and reconnecting after a long time.

I absolutely ADORED the use of the whole kitchen and room as a playing space. Having her start "upstage" at the counter and then moving the camera around as she moved dropped us into the world of the play. This was the first time that I forgot I was watching a Zoom play and just started watching the show. If I have to give one criticism to Hagni at all it is that I would have loved to see this kind of blocking in her previous piece.

I really commend the actors for really knowing their lines, really getting this blocking down, and committing to it. I mean somebody made cupcakes for this show! That's commitment.

Dana feels like this one was the most theatrical because it would definitely work on a stage AND online. This was the play that she absolutely believed with all her heart. I was totally pulled in. This is one of those plays that just make you want to sit in front of a computer and write a play.

The hardest part I'm going to notice about directing and writing for this medium is that you're simultaneously directing a theatre production and producing a movie. The actors aren't just actors they become directors of photography. The only difference between these plays and a movie is that a movie would be recorded for later and edited by someone else. I'm predicting that the most successful Zoom productions will be the ones that blur these lines. Is this naturalistic theatre or an indie found footage film. Who knows and who cares? Actors are not just emoting as if they're in the smallest of black box theaters but also thinking in terms of setups and dynamic camera angles. This is going to be a hard skill to master and in thirty or so years we'll be reading textbooks about the people who started this trend thinking about how we were all just figuring it out.

Also I'm looking forward to the day when we literally don't have the big pink elephant of COVID-19 in the room with us. Right now anytime you see a play livestreamed we all kind of know why it's not being presented onstage. So effectively even if the play doesn't explicitly say so it inherently is about this pandemic I know it's going to be at least a few years before this isn't the case but I will welcome it with open arms.

You have one more opportunity to see this production tonight May 9th at 7 PM Central Time. For those of you teaching theatre right now it might be an excellent tool or opportunity to talk about this evolving theatre climate. Follow this link right here and enjoy the show!

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

Can I ask for a little drabble? I really like your writing! I'd like to read about Aaron having to ring Rob while they're boken up because he can't seem to get some home appliance to work (the oven or the AC, something like that) because of course Robert would chose some stupid over the top machine that it's super complicated to use??? If you feel like it ;))

I loved this idea and as you can see it kind of got away from me so it’s a lot more than a little drabble! Thank you so much for sending it and I’m flattered you like my writing and thought of me! 

BTW all these ‘issues’ except for the car have happened in my house...probably not that complicated though!

Hope you like it :)

Did you read the instruction manual?

AO3 Link

“Robert, it's me. Do you have a minute to come over? I need your help with something, not urgent, but…” Robert frowned as the message cut off with a bang in the background. He couldn't make out the sound and Aaron hadn't sounded hurt or in trouble, but even so his footsteps grew quicker as he made his way through the village to Mill.

He hadn't seen Aaron for a few days, ever since he'd left the flat and moved into the B&B. He'd wanted to but Aaron had made it clear he should stay away, so he’d done as he’d been asked, however difficult it had been.

The door is flung open before he even gets down the drive and Aaron’s jeans are soaking wet at the bottom and his hair is a mess. He drags his gaze away, there's something about Aaron’s hair when it's like that. Maybe that's part of why he used to enjoy running his hands through it. Aaron would grumble but he'd let him, a smile on his face the whole time.

“Are you alright?”

“Its that stupid washing machine of yours! I said we didn't need one that looked like something from NASA! There's water everywhere!” He didn’t recall even having that conversation. Aaron had simply told him to pick. He’d had much more input into which furniture to buy. However it didn’t seem like the time to point that out given his mood.

“So I can see. Did you try reading the instructions?” He asks, making his way through the hallway into the flat, trying not to laugh at Aaron doing a good impression of Grumpy Cat.

“No, I just stood and looked at it! Of course I did!”

Water everywhere is a slight exaggeration, there's a small pool of soapy water around the machine heading for the kitchen table but quite how Aaron ended up so covered in water is anyone’s guess. Robert crouches in front of the machine trying to see what might be wrong.

“You’ve just got too much powder in there I think.” He presses a button and hears the machine start to drain. “Why didn't you use the tab thingy like we always…” He doesn't finish the question, doesn't want to use the past tense.

“Couldn't find ‘em.” Aaron mumbles, looking more than a bit sheepish.

“They're in the top cupboard.” He points across the kitchen. “You're s’posed to keep them out of reach. Don't you watch the adverts?”

“Er, no, unlike you I don't have an encyclopaedic knowledge of tv adverts.” There's a small smile on his face, tone teasing because he always teased him about watching the adverts just as avidly as the programmes themselves, and Robert needs to leave, because it still hurts that he doesn't get to stay, that it's not his home any more.

“Well now you know. Just put one of those in the machine, alright?” With that he leaves not giving Aaron the chance to reply.

*****

“Robert?”

“Yeah?” He's just out picking up a few bits for Diane, as a thank you for letting him stay at Brook Cottage. It meant living with Doug but it was preferable and less awkward than staying at Vic’s with Rebecca.

“Could you come over and take a look at the oven? I can't get it to switch on. Been tryin’ all week.”

“Did you read the...never mind...come on.”

“Cheers.”

“Can't let you starve can I?” It's not as uncomfortable as the last time, just over a week ago. He doesn't want to think about getting used to it being like this. “How...what have you been eating if the oven won't work?”

“Ate at the pub, used the microwave. Just fancied cooking something proper for a change.”

“Let's have a look then.” He follows Aaron to the kitchen and casts an eye over the oven. “Have you had a power cut?”

“Yeah just for a few minutes last week.” He slumped on one of the kitchen chairs and it feels so normal, like it's just as it should be, the two of them in the flat but it’s not and he needs to stop thinking that way.

“The clock needs resetting if the power goes off, oven won't work if the clock isn't set.” He makes quick work of pressing the right buttons before switching the oven on, the light going on straight away. “There, all done.”

“Ta. Sorry.” He shrugged, “ I should know all this.”

“It's fine. Anything else?”

“No. Like I say thanks.” Robert nods and he's on his way.

*****

It's another couple of months before Robert begins to think there's something going on. He's had other things to think about, finding somewhere more permanent to live after all, was fairly urgent. There were only so many conversations he could have about vegetables before he got the urge to injure Doug in some way and besides, he’s 31 and he’s never had somewhere he could call his. In any other circumstances he’d be enjoying it a lot more.

It's when Aaron calls him asking for help with the television that he begins to wonder. Of all the fancy technical gadgets in their, sorry Aaron’s, home, the TV was one thing Aaron had picked out on his own. In fact it had been the first thing picked out when he signed the paperwork for Mill. He knew how it worked, had spent days telling Robert all about the features it had. There's no way he thought that Robert could fix it if he couldn't do it himself.

“Aaron, what's this about?” He hadn't even had to do anything to the tv. It had miraculously fixed itself before he arrived. “Was it even broken?”

“I...Vic said you'd moved out of Diane’s?”

“Yeah, I'm renting a cottage up at Demdyke. You could have asked me, you didn't need to flood the kitchen, reset the oven and…”

“No! No, those were genuine, I swear. There was nothing wrong today, I just...wanted to make sure you were alright.” He tucked his chin into his chest and started biting on the tie of his hoodie.

“I'm fine, or I will be. You don't need to worry about me.”

“Yeah, well...not that easy is it.” Robert can't help but smile. At least it isn't just him.

“Well next time just ask me. As if I'd believe that you couldn't work the tv! It's your pride and joy!”

*****

It doesn't happen again and if he's honest Robert misses it. It might be that he misses being needed but mostly he misses Aaron. It hasn't got any easier, and the stilted awkward conversations in the pub or the cafe, or at the scrapyard don't help. They'd got back to some kind of friendship he thinks, before the truth had come out.

The baby, born a little early, or so he thought, after a frantic dash to the hospital, wasn't his. Rebecca had told him that she had honestly thought the boy was his, but in the end she'd been wrong, he wasn't premature. That meant he had to be Ross’s. he'd tuned out then, the feeling of emptiness consuming him. He knew it didn’t take away the fact he’d cheated but he’d lost Aaron because of the baby in the end, he’s sure they could have worked through it otherwise, and now it wasn’t even his.

Since it had become public knowledge, after she'd left, he'd stayed out of the village, online grocery deliveries becoming his lifeline, the thought of the gossips in the shop too much to deal with. He hadn't seen or heard from Aaron, hadn't tried to contact him.

He's trying to move on and he truly is pleased that Aaron seems so happy even if it kills him that he isn't the one who could make him happy. He's taken to working from home rather than in the portacabin, because he's convinced it's obvious that he's not over Aaron, that he's not happy, and he’d rather not have pitying looks directed his way.

He's working or he’s trying to when his phone rings again and he sighs when he sees it's Aaron.

“What did you break this time?”

“Uh...it's the car. It's knackered...don't suppose you could come give me a hand with it?”

“You used to be a mechanic.” He's already on his feet, finding his keys. Something is tickling the back of his brain.

“So did you. If you're busy…”

“I'm not. Anyway, hardly likely to leave you stranded am I? I'm now getting in the car. Where are you?” He knows, somehow he just knows.

“Layby, Hotten Road.” He'd swear he can hear a teasing note in his voice. Maybe he's imagining it.

“I'll be ten minutes.”

His mind is racing the whole way. Is he getting his hopes up for nothing, has Aaron even remembered? He’ll find out he supposes. It hardly feels like three years. When Aaron’s car is in sight he smiles, the hope growing in his chest by the second. He pulls in, parking in front of him. He can remember every word from that day. Is this what Aaron planned? It's worth a try.

“What’s the problem?” Aaron shrugged as he leant on the car bonnet, face giving nothing away.

“Engine just gave out.” He got up, gaze running up and down Robert’s body as he did, and leaned in to pop the bonnet open.

“Aren’t you gonna try it first?”

“Feel free. I know when a car’s knackered.” He has to try it, surely Aaron wouldn’t do this, be this cruel. This layby, this date, he can’t be wrong. Except the engine doesn’t turn over. “See?”

“I thought...no never mind.”

“Robert? What’s wrong? Listen I should have called you or something. I’m sorry, about the baby.” He closes the bonnet, sits back down on it, hands in his pockets. Robert just stands there, doesn’t know what to say. Nothing seems the right thing. He’d started to come round to the idea of the baby, in the end, but it hadn’t mattered, it had been taken from him just like everyone else.

“Are you?”

“Look whatever’s happened, of course I’m sorry. You thought he was yours and I know you, I always knew you would want him.” He sniffs, shifting uncomfortably.

“Yeah. Well it’s done now.” He hopes Aaron still knows him well enough to know he wants to change the subject.

“So, anyway, what did you think I’d called you out here for?”

“Doesn’t matter. We should get to trying to fix it. I’m sure you have somewhere to be.” He takes off his jacket. It’s cold but he’d rather not get oil over it.

“What like a meeting or something?” He turns round. Aaron’s still sitting on the bonnet but now he’s smiling. “Did you really think I’d forget?”

“Aaron I’m not in the mood for games.”

“I’m not playing games. I did remember the date, I was on my way to see you to see if we could talk and the car conked out. The universe has a weird sense of humour apparently. I thought about walking to your place but this seemed more…” As he’s been talking he’s walked over to Robert until he’s standing right in front of him, looking up at him, those blue eyes staring intensely. He knows that look, has seen it countless times.

“Poetic?”

“Us.” Robert let out a laugh.

“So, you wanna try and fix the car?” He puts one hand on Aaron’s waist, taking a risk. It worked the first time. It works this time. Aaron clutches his jaw, holding it gently, thumbs gently stroking as he leans in and kisses him. It’s not fierce and hungry like that first time, but soft and wonderful and Aaron.

“Cain’s gonna come and fetch it later. I text him before you got here.”

“You were pretty sure I’d go along with your little plan then?”

“I think I know you pretty well. Come on.” He laughs holding out a hand.

“Where to?”

“Where did we go last time?”

“Well I went home and you...the pub? Yeah I don’t think your Mum’s gonna welcome me with open arms.” He’d been in once or twice since she came back but the welcome was frosty to say the least and after the first few encounters he’d decided it just wasn’t worth it and stayed away. “Garage then?”

“Get lost. It’s freezing! Take us home, idiot.”

[sad-trash-writing]

idk if you've seen that extra gum commercial where this guy draws little comics on gum wrappers, and he has this crush on this girl. they date and he draws things from their relationship on the wrappers and he draws one to propose to his gf and she says yes. and the song playing is "i can't help falling in love with you". i really would love to see a skimmons version of that. it could be a high school-college au

I know this took ages, but I hope it’s worth it. Thanks for the prompt! It was a ton of fun!

AO3 Link

Whoever invented high school clearly hated teenagers. Daisy huffed out a dramatic sigh and leaned back in her rickety wooden desk. The teacher kept droning on about some boring battle in the Civil War (which Daisy swore they learned about last year, too). Worst of all, she had forgotten her backpack at home today so she didn’t even have anything to doodle on to kill the time. 

A slight rustle in front of her drew her attention from counting the ceiling tiles to Jemma Simmons, the only redeeming factor of this class. US History was the only class Jemma wasn’t in the advanced section of (since she was British and only moved to America last year) so Daisy got to stare at the back of her head and listen to Jemma’s voice every time she asked a question.

The sound that drew Daisy’s attention was just Jemma digging a pack of gum out of her bag. A lightbulb went off in Daisy’s head when she realized that it was the type that had the little foil wrappers, or in Daisy’s universe, something to draw on. 

She leaned forward across her desk and lightly tapped Jemma on the shoulder. “Can I have a piece?” Daisy whispered. 

Jemma lurched slightly in her seat, but pulled a second piece of gum out of the pack and handed it over her shoulder. “Of course.”

She shot Daisy a bright smile and turned back to her notes. 

Daisy’s heart really should not be beating this hard from that seven-word conversation. So maybe she had a little crush on the super genius Brit she never saw outside of history class. Sue her. 

Once her pulse returned to normal, Daisy slipped out the pencil she always kept stuck her ponytail and started sketching. 

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

“Um, excuse me? Do you mind if I sit here?”

Daisy’s head whipped towards the accented voice and instantly regretted taking Miles’ bet that she couldn’t fit a whole order of spaghetti in her mouth. 

“Jemma!” she exclaimed through a mouth of pasta. “Yeah, sure you can—”

Daisy quickly realized that Jemma couldn’t understand her and she would probably choke if she tried to swallow right now. Instead, Daisy planted a foot on Miles’ chair and shoved him far enough down the table that there was space for a chair next to Daisy, ignoring his indignant noises.

Luckily, Jemma didn’t seem disgusted by Daisy’s antics and just smiled and pulled up a chair next to her. Daisy quickly choked down the remainder of her spaghetti and tried to remember what a normal sitting posture was. 

To distract herself from the sudden presence of the girl she had a major crush on Daisy held her open hand out to Miles. 

“Pay up, I did it,” she demanded. She half expected Miles to argue with her, but he slyly glanced at Jemma, who was suddenly engrossed in her sandwich, and slapped a $5 bill into Daisy’s hand. 

“So, Jemma—” Daisy started, but was cut off by Jemma mumbling under her breath. “Uh, what was that?”

Jemma peered at Daisy and blushed. “I bet you can’t fit that whole piece of garlic bread in your mouth,” she muttered with a mischievous glint in her eye. 

Daisy balked for a moment. Whatever she expected from the quiet British girl, it wasn’t that. “You’re on.”

Once she won Jemma’s bet, after nearly inhaling garlic bread crumbs while laughing at Jemma’s shocked expression, Daisy slipped a spare scrap of paper out of her bag and doodled a tiny scene on it. 

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

“So, Jem. Wanna watch Sharknado or Paranormal Activity?”

Jemma wrinkled her nose. “I can’t believe those are the options you’re giving me.”

“Well, do you want to take apart the science of demons or sharks forming a tornado and eating people?” Daisy countered. 

Jemma rolled her eye. “I suppose Sharknado. I know there’s at least two more Paranormal Activity movies that you’ll try to force me to watch next, so let’s avoid that.”

“Oh, don’t worry. There’s four Sharknados, too!”

Jemma groaned loudly as she and Daisy strolled towards the bus stop. Jemma had started sitting at Daisy’s table everyday for lunch and even choosing Daisy every time they had a partner project in class. Daisy wasn’t complaining. She even managed to shove aside her stupid feelings for awhile to just spend time with Jemma as a friend. 

And friends watched terrible movies at each other’s houses every weekend while over-caffeinating themselves and staying up way too late. 

“I can’t stay too late tonight, though. I’ve got an interview tomorrow for a college scholarship,” Jemma said. 

“College? We’re sophomores. How have you started looking at that already?” Daisy replied. 

Jemma shrugged. “I’ve just had a few contact me because of my test scores and thought it would be a good idea to check my options now.”

Daisy chuckled. “Well, you always do know how to over-prepare. But I guess we’ll only watch Sharknado one and two tonight then. The others can wait until next weekend.”

“Unless every copy of the DVDs mysteriously goes missing by then.”

“That’s what the internet is for, Jem.”

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

“This has got to be my favorite song,” Jemma announced. 

Daisy looked up from her ice cream with a frown. She hadn’t even realized there was music playing, honestly. She was just tired from the school day and not looking forward to the amount of homework she had to do later. Luckily, Jemma agreed to help her out, on the condition that Daisy took her out for ice cream first. Only when Jemma mentioned it did she notice that Can’t Help Falling In Love With You was quietly playing over the speakers above them.

“Didn’t take you for an Elvis fan, Jemma,” Daisy teased. 

Jemma rolled her eyes. “Well, not Elvis per se. Just this song is beautiful.”

Daisy snorted. “Seems a little sappy to me.”

Jemma tossed a wadded up napkin at her. 

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

Daisy blinked away the tears before Jemma could notice them. Jemma was occupied, cramming more bags into her dad’s car while Daisy stood off to the side, wringing her hands just to keep busy. Despite her somber mood, Daisy couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled out of her throat when Jemma had to crawl into the backseat and pull one of her bags from the inside, while her dad pushed it from the outside. 

Once the bag was stuffed into the car, Jemma tumbled out of the car, dusted off her hands, and admired their handiwork. 

“Why’d you have to be such a smarty-pants and graduate early anyway?” Daisy teased. 

Jemma flashed her a sad smile. “I’ll be back for holidays and summers still, I promise.”

“I know, but now I have to sit through history alone,” Daisy whined. 

“For that, I am truly sorry,” Jemma said with a smirk. Despite the attempts at humor, Daisy could see tears welling up in Jemma’s eyes as well. Daisy grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her in for a tight hug, burying her face in Jemma’s neck. 

Daisy didn’t know how long they held each other, but she vaguely heard Jemma’s mom clear her throat at some point. Jemma just waved her off and kept squeezing Daisy like her life depended on it. 

Eventually, they broke apart, both giving up on containing their tears. 

“You’ll keep in touch, right?” Jemma asked in a tone that sounded more like a demand. 

“I-I—” The ‘I love you’ that Daisy desperately wanted to say caught in her throat. “I will.” 

Jemma smiled and gave her another quick hug, before jogging over to the car where her parents were impatiently waiting and hopped in. As they drove away, Daisy stuck her hands in her pockets and found a crumpled gum wrapper. She smoothed it out and started drawing. 

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

Daisy tried to keep her promise. She really did, but life happened. The first six months Jemma was away at college, she and Daisy Skype’d almost daily and texted after every class. But then Jemma had research deadlines come up and Daisy had to study for midterms and they lost touch. 

Years passed. Daisy was accepted into her first choice school for graphic design and packed up to move across the country. She quickly acclimated to the dorm life with her new roommate, Bobbi.

How she got paired up with Bobbi as a roommate, Daisy would never know (Daisy being an art kid and Bobbi majoring in biology). They got along well enough, despite their differences, and it turned out that Bobbi’s sometimes-boyfriend, Hunter, was an art student as well. 

They had a standing lunch date at one of the cafés on campus between the art building and their dorm. Daisy jogged in, late as usual, with paint and charcoal smeared on her shirt and a handful of paintbrushes jammed into her pockets. 

“Hey! Only ten minutes late this time! Maybe next time you’ll actually be here on time,” Bobbi teased, sipping her coffee. 

Daisy rolled her eyes and flopped into the chair across from her. “My lateness is a performance art piece on the societal construct of time. And Professor Rogers made me stay after to clean the paintbrushes again.”

“I’m surprised you can resist calling him Mr. Rogers and asking how things are in the neighborhood.”

“Why do you think I had to clean the paintbrushes?”

Bobbi chuckled and glanced towards the door. “I hope you don’t mind that I invited someone else to join us today.”

“Oh? Who?”

“A girl from the bio lab. She’s our age, but a couple years ahead in her program already,” Bobbi said. 

Daisy groaned. “Great, so I’m going to have to sit here and listen to two of you biobabble at me?”

“Don’t even act like you don’t rant about your dorky art stuff at me. Sorry I don’t know the difference between Dega and Dada.”

“Okay, those two aren’t even in the same category. Dadaism is a movement—” 

“Daisy?” A new voice cut in. 

Daisy’s attention shot to the new voice and her jaw dropped. “Jemma?!”

They stared each other down, wearing matching expressions of shock. Once Daisy’s brain caught up to her eyes, she shot out of her seat like a rocket and swept Jemma up in a bone-crunching hug. All these years later and she even smelled the same. Not that Daisy remembered what Jemma smelled like.

After a few long moments, they loosened their grip and started babbling over each other. 

“I thought you were going to some fancy private school—”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were coming here—”

“—I didn’t know you were going here or I would have said something—”

“—It’s been so long I wasn’t sure I had your phone number anymore—”

Bobbi clearing her throat behind them stopped the tirade of overlapping statements. “Uh…So you two know each other?”

“Daisy and I went to high school together,” Jemma supplied. 

“And we were really close, until someone had to graduate two years early,” 

Daisy accused, with a teasing smirk. 

Jemma just rolled her eyes. 

Bobbi smirked. “Then, I guess you two have a lot to catch up on.”

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

Despite the years apart, Daisy and Jemma fell right back into their old patterns of movie nights and teasing each other. Nearly every Friday, they would squeeze onto Daisy’s dorm bed with Bobbi and Hunter and project a movie onto the opposite wall. Daisy finally gave in to Jemma’s begging and agreed to watch something that wasn’t a SyFy original and threw in some pretentious movies her fellow art students loved to brag about, exclusively to pick them apart. 

Unfortunately, those stupid feelings Daisy repressed for years reappeared the moment Jemma did. 

One day, a new face appeared in Daisy’s dorm room. 

“Everybody, this is Will,” Jemma introduced, “He’s an aerospace engineering major.”

Daisy waved a hello with the others, but for some reason decided she didn’t like this guy. Sure, he may be a perfectly nice guy, but he stood just a little too close to Jemma  and stared at her with just a little too much fondness. 

That night, Jemma chose to sit on the futon below Daisy’s lofted bed with Will. Daisy spent the duration of the movie grumpily glaring in the direction of the movie, but not really watching it. 

A few hours later, Bobbi flicked on the lights and everyone shuffled out of the room, leaving just Daisy and her roommate. 

“What was that all about?” Bobbi demanded once the door clicked behind Hunter (always the last to leave).

“Hey, I didn’t pick the movie this week,” Daisy defended while she stacked up popcorn bowls.

“That’s not what I was talking about. You’ve never been that quiet during a movie night ever and, every time I looked over at you, you were glaring at the floor.”

Daisy flushed. “It’s just been a long week and I’m tired. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” Bobbi muttered, unconvinced, but she let the subject drop. 

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

Fall weather had officially settled in, making it suddenly bearable to be outside. Daisy had to dodge at least three runaway Ultimate Frisbee games on the way to lunch and couldn’t help herself from stopping to pick some of the small fall flowers out of the dining hall’s landscaping. She had a mixed media project coming up that she could probably use them for.

As usual, Daisy was one of the last to arrive for lunch. Bobbi and Hunter were already settled in, bickering about something, but still eating off the same tray. Fitz was tinkering with some new gadget, while Trip leaned over and kept trying to poke at it. The only person missing was Jemma. 

“Hey, you’re not the last one here for once,” Bobbi teased as Daisy sat down. Daisy waved her off and tossed her bag on the table, despite Fitz’s indignant protests. She had barely opened her mouth to ask where Jemma was, when a flurry of brown hair and lab reports ran into the table. 

“THE ORIONID METEOR SHOWER IS TOMORROW NIGHT,” Jemma shouted, slamming her hands on the table. 

Her statement was met with blank stares. “Um…Kay?” 

“We need to try to see it! It’s supposed to be spectacular,” Jemma continued. 

Daisy shrugged. “I’m game. I might finally see my first shooting star.”

The rest of the table mumbled their agreements and Jemma launched into planning mode. 

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

Daisy hadn’t realized how much stuff they would be bringing to go watch the stars. Why they needed an inflatable pool was beyond her, when some ratty blankets would do just fine. She hauled the giant box out of the back of her van and dropped in in the middle of the field Jemma had staked out for the group. Even though it seemed unnecessary to Daisy, Jemma found the idea on Pinterest and thought it sounded fun, so Daisy would go along with it. 

Once she wrenched the wad of plastic from the box, Daisy hooked up the automatic air pump to the pool, flipped the switch, and then sat back and waited. 

The sun was just beginning to set on the grassy field. The tranquil silence was broken by the jarring whir of the pump, but the scenery was still beautiful. Jemma had really outdone herself when picking this spot to watch the meteor shower (she was very insistent that it had to be far enough away from the town to avoid light pollution). Daisy could only imagine how beautiful it would be out here when the stars came out. She rooted through her pocket and found a folded up scrap of sketch paper. She pulled out a pencil and started sketching the trees that lined the field and dotted the horizon. 

The pool was just starting to take shape when Jemma’s tiny hatchback pulled up beside Daisy’s van. Jemma hopped out of the driver’s seat and popped the trunk open, while grumbling under her breath. 

“Hey, Jem,” Daisy greeted. “Where’s the rest of the group? It’s going to be hard for them to find us when it gets dark.”

“They’re not coming,” Jemma huffed. “Bobbi and Hunter said something about a last minute date night and Fitz called and rambled some nonsense excuse regarding a project he was working on with Trip.”

Daisy frowned. “Huh. That’s strange. Oh well, I guess they’ll miss all the free wishes.”

“So, you want to stay?” Jemma asked, hopefully. 

“Yeah, of course.”

Jemma breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god. I was hoping you wouldn’t want to leave because everyone else cancelled.”

“I didn’t come out here for them,” Daisy blurted. She ducked down to fidget with the pool in an attempt to hide her blush. With a sly peek out of the corner of her eye she caught Jemma’s shy smile.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. Want to help me unload the car?”

The trunk and back seat of Jemma’s car were both stuffed full of pillows and thick blankets, which Daisy and Jemma dragged out by the armful and tossed in the misshapen pool. 

Once everything was arranged and the pool had taken shape, they shut off the noisy air pump and flopped into the giant nest of blankets. Jemma tucked a bag of popcorn and a thermos of hot chocolate in the folds of the blankets and they snuggled in to wait for the meteor shower to start. 

Silence settled over the pair for a moment, before giving rise to the sounds of nature. Crickets chirped their last odes to the summer weather before the frost would inevitably sweep through. A light breeze shuddered through the branches of the distant trees, rattling the drying leaves together. A lone owl hooted in the shelter of the trees. 

Jemma sighed contentedly and nestled further into the blankets. “The highest concentration of meteors ought to be around the Orion constellation, over there.”

Jemma gestured towards a cluster of stars, but Daisy had no clue where she was pointing. Daisy was too busy staring at Jemma, illuminated only by the dim starlight and talking excitedly about the origin of the Orionid meteor shower. 

Daisy smile and nodded in agreement, meanwhile berating herself internally. Why, why did she have to fall for one of her best friends? Her straight best friend. Nothing good could come of this. Only awkwardness and heartache. Daisy pushed the thoughts of her killer crush away when Jemma offered her the bag of popcorn. 

A few hours after it was completely dark, they saw their first meteor. Daisy almost wasn’t sure she had seen it. It happened so quickly so thought she may have imagined it, but Jemma’s slight gasp told Daisy that it was real. After the first one, they came more frequently, until they lit up the sky almost before the previous one had faded.  

Jemma and Daisy both stayed mostly quiet, preferring to enjoy the natural phenomenon with minimal conversation. Daisy was so entranced by the streaks of light cutting across the sky that she hadn’t even noticed Jemma fidgeting with her hands until she spoke up.

“Daisy, can I talk to you about something?” Jemma asked in nearly a whisper. 

The tone betrayed the serious nature of whatever Jemma wanted to say and Daisy’s eyes snapped to Jemma. “Of course. What’s up?” Daisy replied with forced casualness. 

Jemma fidgeted for a moment more with her eyes fixed on her hands before she spoke up. “I— Well, it’s—There’s been something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about for awhile, but it’s—it’s just never seemed like the right time and there’s always someone else around, or we’re busy or—or—”

Daisy waited with bated breath while Jemma paused to collect her thoughts.

  “I—um. I like girls, I guess,” Jemma finished. 

Daisy’s heart leaped and a tiny hopeful part of her brain started cheering, but Daisy quickly shoved it away. This isn’t about you, asshole, she thought. 

“Oh. Cool, um, thanks for trusting me with that,” Daisy replied, “Actually, while we’re on that subject—”

“I know, this probably isn’t the best time, but I don’t want to keep any secrets from you,” Jemma rambled. She briefly reached for Daisy’s hands, but seemed to think better of it and folded them in her lap. “You’re my best friend and I don’t want anything to change between us because of this.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, I just completely bowled over you. We’re you going to say something?”

Daisy blanched. “No, never mind. It’s not important.”

“Please, I don’t want anything left unsaid between us now,” Jemma prompted.

 “Let’s get it all out ther—”

“I love you.”

It seemed even the crickets were silent following Daisy’s confession. If she wasn’t in the middle of nowhere, Daisy probably would have bolted for the nearest closet to hide herself in for the rest of her life. 

Jemma’s silence was almost worse than if she had run away in disgust. Daisy mentally begged her to say something. Anything. 

“…Really?” Jemma finally whispered. 

Daisy nodded, though she wasn’t sure Jemma could see her in the dark. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Let’s just pretend I never said—”

Now it was Jemma’s turn to interrupt. She leaned across the narrow space between them, capturing Daisy’s lips mid-word, and slid a hand around the back of Daisy’s neck to pull her in closer. 

Daisy’s body processed this new development before her mind caught up, kissing Jemma back fervently before she was even fully aware what was happening. 

By the time they broke for air, Daisy’s brain had finally caught up. “I thought you said you didn’t want anything to change between us,” she said, stupidly. 

“That was a complete lie,” Jemma chuckled. “I’ve been mad about you since high school.”

“Really? Why did neither of us say anything before now?” Daisy asked. 

Jemma just giggled and leaned in for another, more gentle kiss. Meteors continued to streak across the sky the rest of the night, but they passed completely unnoticed by the pair curled up in the inflatable pool together. 

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

“What? Even I can tell you that’s a terrible— No, he’s great, but I know your— Hey, don’t yell at me, you’re the one who’s dumped him four times!” Daisy screamed into her phone. “Hello?…She hung up on me.”

“Um…Is everything alright?” Jemma cautiously asked. 

Daisy groaned. “Bobbi just decided she’s going to move in with Hunter at the end of the semester.”

“Oh. That’s…good?” Jemma guessed. 

“The school can’t find anyone willing to move into the dorm halfway through the year, so they’re going to make me pay the 'single-room’ price. I can’t afford that!” Daisy complained. 

“I can see why you’re upset now.”

“Yeah. I supposed my van is big enough to throw a mattress in the back. As long as campus security doesn’t get weird about me parking it somewhere.”

“You can come live with me next semester,” Jemma shyly suggested. 

Daisy’s heart sped up. “What?”

“I have a full scholarship that covers my rent as well as tuition, so you wouldn’t have to pay anything,” Jemma explained, “I wouldn’t mind having someone to live with. It can get a tad quiet.”

“Are you sure it’s not too soon? I mean, we are dating now. Would it be weird for us to live together so soon?” Daisy asked. 

Jemma shrugged. “I was going to ask you to move in with me any way. Do you really think I’d let my girlfriend live in her van?”

Daisy pulled Jemma into a tight hug in answer. 

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

Jemma’s apartment was nice. Very nice, in fact. The extra scholarship money allowed Jemma to afford a place right off campus, away from the noise and annoyance of the fraternity houses. It was small, but not cramped. Just enough space for Jemma’s sparse belongings. 

And now Daisy’s. Jemma failed to mention that her apartment was only a one-bedroom before Daisy had hauled the first box of her possessions up the stairs.

 Daisy hadn’t wanted to presume anything, so she tossed her pillow on the couch and looked for a corner to cram her stuff into. Jemma had just chuckled, grabbed her hand, and dragged her towards the bedroom. 

Daisy was surprised by how easily she settled into domesticity with Jemma. Given that she was completely prepared to live out of her van, Daisy didn’t expect to find herself so comfortable now. They settled into an easy routine. Jemma left at the crack of dawn for her classes, Daisy following around noon, Jemma went to the lab for a few hours after class, and Daisy went to work at the campus bookstore. They both returned to the apartment late and collapsed into bed or watched TV for a few hours. Friday night, they would make sure to be home in time for dinner and one of them would cook something nice. 

The cooking was the one thing Daisy never got the hang of. Her artistic talents definitely did not translate into the culinary arts. The most complicated thing she had ever managed to make herself was a can of chicken noodle soup that she put in the microwave, so she struggled whenever it was her turn to make Friday night dinner. 

But she was going to try her hardest anyway because she loved Jemma and wanted to make her something nice. 

So here she was, fighting her way through making spaghetti. Jemma was perched on the corner of their bed with her headphones on full volume, typing away frantically at a report that was due early, and made it clear that she should not be interrupted until either she or dinner was done. 

Daisy grumbled to herself about the inconsistency of using a 'clove’ of garlic as a form of measurement. Daisy made the mistake of buying the already diced garlic that came in a jar (much to Jemma’s dismay), so she just guessed and threw in a full teaspoon with the meat. Hopefully that was enough. 

Next, she grabbed the jar of sauce. Daisy twisted the lid, but it didn’t budge. Daisy squeezed and twisted harder. Nothing. She tried clamping the jar between her knees and using both hands to twist. It was like the lid was cemented on the stupid jar. 

Daisy huffed. What was the trick Jemma always used? Tapping it on the counter! 

Daisy gingerly tapped the rim of the jar against the edge of the counter a few times and tried again. Still no movement. She tapped it harder. Nothing. Daisy glared at the offending jar. Now it was starting to feel personal. 

Daisy gave it one last try and whacked the jar on the counter, but heard a cracking sound rather than the pop of the lid she was hoping for. 

“Damnit,” she grumbled. She grabbed the lid and it twisted right off. 

Which took the top half of the jar with it. The jagged edge of the jar cut into Daisy’s palm as she twisted. 

“Shit!” 

The stripe of blood that welled up on her palm started small, but quickly began trickling down her hand. Daisy set the ruined jar on the counter and grabbed for a paper towel to put some pressure on the cut. She barely got the paper towel ripped off the roll when the timer for the noodles went off, startling her. 

She jerked back, hitting the sauce jar with her elbow, which sent it tumbling towards the ground where it shattered on impact. 

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“Is everything alright out there?” Jemma’s voice called from the bedroom.

Daisy sighed and glanced at her still stinging wound. “Hey, Jem. You know how you said to only bother you if something was on fire or I was bleeding?”

Daisy heard the bedsprings creak as Jemma rolled of the mattress and shuffled toward the kitchen. “I sincerely hope you’re being dramatic again or you’re paying the security dep— OH MY GOD!”

Daisy looked up from her cut and saw the carnage of the red-splattered kitchen where she was the focal point. Right after she said she was bleeding (because clearly nothing was on fire). No wonder Jemma was freaking out. 

“Oh, no no it’s just this!” Daisy announced holding up her (relatively speaking) tiny cut for Jemma to see, “I can’t really get to the mop without stepping on glass so…”

Jemma stared, wide-eyed, for another moment. Then she burst into a fit of giggles. Soon, the giggles turned into raucous laughter and eventually Jemma was bent over, gasping for air between fits of cackling. 

Even though Daisy felt terrible about ruining dinner, she couldn’t help laughing along with Jemma at the entire situation. Her laugh was infectious.

Jemma grabbed the mop and helped Daisy clean up the mess and Daisy went to pick up some Chinese take out. Later that night, when Jemma went back to pouring over her computer Daisy found a red pen and sketched the scene on the back of a receipt and tucked it away. 

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

Jemma shoved the apartment door open with a bit more force than was truly necessary. It had been a very long, arduous day and all she wanted was to eat a pint of ice cream and go to sleep early. 

She shuffled through the door, knocking into the wall with her stack of reports and struggling to keep them from falling. She grumbled to herself as she kicked some of Daisy’s art supplies out of the way, so she wouldn’t end up tracking paint through the apartment (again) and trudged towards the bedroom. 

A little flashing light from the kitchen made her pause. The 'new message’ light on the answering machine to the landline the apartment required them to have flashed insistently. Jemma frowned. Typically, no one called that number. If they needed to get ahold of one of them, Jemma and Daisy both had cell phones that they checked more regularly. 

Jemma threw her stuff down on the table and jammed the little button. 

A chipper voice cut through the silence of the apartment. “Hello! This message is for Daisy Johnson, regarding the job you applied for at Creative Concepts. It turns out we will be able to cover your relocation to New York City, as well as offering you a percentage more than the listing stated. We would like to get you settled and starting work by late next month so if you could give us a call back at—”

The number the woman rattled off was drowned out by the slamming of the front door. 

“Jemma, you home? I got out early and was thinking we could go do something—,” Daisy rounded the corner and saw Jemma’s face, “—fun? What’s wrong?”

“You got a job in New York?” Jemma asked, tersely.

“I what?” Daisy replied. 

“A place in New York just called and said you’ve got a job. They want you to start in a month,” Jemma gritted out through her teeth, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Daisy blinked at her for a moment. “I thought you’d be…happier.”

“Happier?!” Jemma snapped, “You never even told me you were looking for jobs, much less ones in New York City!”

“Well, duh. What did you think I was going to do, mooch off you the rest of my life?” Daisy spit back.

Jemma recoiled. “I thought you would at least tell me that you were thinking of moving across the country. What am I supposed to do? Quit my job and follow you at a moment’s notice? Or were you just going to leave and not even talk to me about it?”

“I thought you’d be excited! This is a great job and I’d finally be pulling my own weight,” Daisy shouted, more confused than angry. 

“Without me!” Jemma yelled, “We’re in a relationship. We’re supposed to talk about things like this together. Why did you hide this from me?”

“I didn’t…I didn’t actually think I would get it, I just wanted to see what would happen,” Daisy said. “What do you want me to do? Not take the job?”

“Yes! No. I—” Jemma huffed. “I don’t know, I just…I need a minute.”

She stalked off to the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Daisy groaned and thumped her head against the wall. Eventually, she shuffled over to the answering machine and replayed the message to write down the call-back number. 

Daisy hung around the kitchen and nibbled on a fingernail nervously. She and Jemma had never had a fight like that before. Sure, they occasionally fought about little things, like Daisy leaving paint lying around or Jemma stealing Daisy’s leftovers late at night. Those were insignificant and usually ended in sex, so they weren’t too bad. 

But nothing like this. Daisy wasn’t used to people sticking around after a fallout and kept waiting for Jemma to charge out of the bedroom with a packed bag and leave forever. 

But that wasn’t Jemma. And Daisy wasn’t about to let what they had fall apart over this. Not after everything they’d been through. 

She gave Jemma a few more minutes of alone time and tiptoed over to the bedroom door. She tapped gently on it, but got no response. 

“Jem? Can I come in?” Daisy asked tentatively. After a few seconds with no response, Daisy was preparing herself to sleep on the couch, when a whispered 'yes’ filtered through the door. 

Jemma was curled up on her side on the bed, facing away from Daisy. The occasional muffled sniffles told Daisy that Jemma had been crying and it broke her heart. 

She slipped into the bed behind Jemma and slowly scooted herself next to her. When she wasn’t forcibly shoved away like she was expecting, she curled up around Jemma and rested her hand on Jemma’s waist. 

“I’m sorry,” Daisy whispered, “I really wasn’t trying to hide it. I just…wasn’t thinking. I’m still not used to this 'serious relationship’ thing, I guess.” Daisy nudged closer to Jemma’s back and rested her head in the crook of her neck. “I’ll call them back first thing and let them know I can’t take the job,” she mumbled. 

Jemma sighed and rolled over to face Daisy. “I don’t want that. I’m sure it’s a great job and I know you’ve been wanting to get out of this city. I only wish this wasn’t the first time I had heard about it.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Jemma whispered, “But, now we can deal with this. Together.”

Daisy nodded. “Agreed.”

She leaned forward and kissed Jemma gently, and then smiled to herself. 

“Hey, Jemma,” she muttered. 

“Hm?”

“We just survive our first big fight.”

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

They kept their promise to each other to deal with the new job situation together. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as seamless at Daisy would have hoped. Jemma couldn’t get away from the work she was doing for the university until at least the end of the semester, and then still had to find a job in New York City. So far, her hunt had hit a dead-end. 

Daisy, however, couldn’t put off the start of her job and would have to move without her. As much as it would kill them to be apart for so long, they would have to make it work for now. They both promised each other that it wouldn’t end like the last time they were separated. 

Daisy found a small apartment that she could afford on her single salary for now, and threw herself straight into work for a graphic design company that contracted out artists to client companies. The work was mind-numbing at times and she called Jemma nearly every night to complain about her thickheaded clients, but she was at least doing work she enjoyed and had many opportunities in New York to find an audience for her art. 

Jemma continued to work at the university laboratory, apply for research-based positions in New York, and coordinate with Daisy when they would have a free weekend to visit one another. 

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

Jemma’s phone rang early one morning while she was eating breakfast. Well, it was a reasonable hour for herself, but for most of the population, it was early. It was especially early for Daisy, who’s name was the one that popped up on caller ID. 

“Hello?” Jemma greeted. 

“Hey.” Daisy sounded breathless on the other line. “Remember how we talked about you having a free weekend coming up? I really think you should come up here.”

“Alright, why the urgency, though?” Jemma replied. 

Daisy was quiet for a moment and seemed to be catching her breath. “I got a gig at a gallery! I get to use the entire gallery to display some of my projects!”

“Daisy, that’s wonderful!”

“I know! This is gonna be such a great opportunity. All the best people are gonna be at the opening,” Daisy rambled. “So can you make it?” 

“I’ll book my plane ticket immediately.”

The silence on the other line didn’t concern Jemma, because Daisy was probably just fist-pumping the air. 

“I’m so excited. I can’t wait to see you,” Daisy finally responded. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

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

A few phone more phone calls later and they pinned down the details for the trip. Jemma’s flight was getting in the morning of the gallery opening, so she and Daisy would have some time to explore the city together. 

The minute she landed and turned her phone back on, their plans were upended by a text from Daisy. 

Super super sorry, but I can’t get out of work til later :( I left a key under the mat at my apartment so you can drop your stuff and nap. Sry ily

Jemma huffed, but understood and went to gather her things at baggage claim. When she went to hail a cab, she notice a nicely dressed man standing near the exit holding a sign that read Jemma Simmons. 

Jemma frowned and approached him. At least Daisy spared her from having to trek through New York City with all of her bags. 

“Mrs. Simmons, I presume?” the man asked. 

“Miss, but yes,” she replied, adjusting her bags. 

The man smiled. “My mistake. Can I grab your bags for you?”

The driver loaded her things into a sleek black car and opened the rear door for her to enter. 

Once on the road, Jemma couldn’t help but ogle everything she drove past. The massive buildings sparkled in the morning sun and every variety of cafe seemed tucked into the lower floors of them. Cars choked the streets, allowing Jemma plenty of time to stare and memorize the source of every mouth-watering smell that she wanted Daisy to take her to. 

Even more than the cars, was the sheer amount of people, bustling this way and that. How they could even move with some many people cramming the sidewalks was a miracle. 

They passed through Times’ Square and the blinding lights from every corner dazed her momentarily. 

They finally pulled up to Daisy’s apartment building, which Jemma recognized from the pictures she had sent when she first moved in. It was nothing compared to the glitz and glamor of the center of the city, but it seemed cozy enough. 

The driver unloaded Jemma’s things for her onto the sidewalk and bid her a good day. Jemma rifled through her purse for some cash to give him a tip, but he had returned to the car and sped off before she could find it. 

Strange, Jemma thought, but, then again, Daisy is always saying how weird New Yorkers are. 

  Jemma shrugged and headed towards the elevator. 

Sure enough, a small key was tucked under the welcome mat in front of Daisy’s apartment. It still had enough of Daisy’s form of personalization scattering the floor and stuck to the walls to remind Jemma with a pang of their shared apartment. Jemma called Daisy’s name, hoping she would have made it home by now, but found the apartment empty.

She grumbled to herself, a bit annoyed that Big City Girl Daisy couldn’t seem to spare any time for her girlfriend who she dragged up to see her. She tossed her things in a corner in Daisy’s bedroom and headed to the kitchen to find a snack. A small piece of folded paper was propped up on the counter when she got there. Jemma snatched it and found another apology, but this one included cash. 

Dear Jemma, sorry again I’m flaking out. I have a few more things to wrap with the gallery before the opening tonight. Here’s some cash so you can get yourself a nice lunch. There’s a diner two blocks down that you might like. The Wi-Fi password is Alhambra.

Also, I included a bit extra so you can go down to the boutique on 7th and get something nice to wear tonight. You get to be my arm candy after all ;) See you tonight. Sry and ily.

Daisy 

Jemma rolled her eyes. She wasn’t really interested in seeing the sights in New York alone, but she probably should get a nicer dress for the evening. She had a feeling that 'nice’ was a different standard at a New York gallery opening than anything in Jemma’s college town. She snatched the cash and the spare key and headed back out the door. 

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

Despite what Jemma told herself, she did go see some of the attractions near Daisy’s apartment. She found a nice souvenir stand where she bought herself a mini Statue of Liberty magnet and a foam hat that she was going to make Daisy wear everywhere tomorrow. Then she headed down to the boutique that Daisy had mentioned to find a nice outfit. 

She picked out a flattering sparkly dress that, normally, she would never buy for herself, but she wanted to impress the people coming to see Daisy. If it made Daisy drool over her and regret leaving her alone all day, that was just a bonus. 

When it got close to the start of the event, Jemma was fully dressed and made up and Daisy was still nowhere to be found. Jemma was starting to worry that something might have happened to her, when her phone buzzed with another message from Daisy. 

Hey things got crazy so I’ve got to stay at the gallery until it opens. There will still be a car by the apartment to come pick you up at 6:30. 

Jemma frowned and typed back, Did you just have plans with your new girlfriend all day?

Jemma was mostly joking, but the lack of response way worrying. Sure, she figured Daisy was busy with the gallery and all, but it wasn’t like Daisy to be so cagey. 

The car pulled up in front of the building at 6:30 on the dot, with the same driver who picked her up from the airport. He held the car door open for her, told her she looked 'ravishing,’ and then hopped in the driver’s seat. 

The drive was mostly silent, with Jemma being too grumpy to initiate conversation and the driver too occupied with not crashing into every person who cut them off. 

The gallery they pulled to a stop in front of was small, which Jemma expected. What she hadn’t expected was the dimness of the light filtering through the windows facing the street. Inside, Jemma could see a few small spotlights pointed at framed works on the wall that were much smaller than what Daisy usually created. 

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Jemma asked the driver.

He just nodded with a smile. “Daisy’s waiting for you inside.”

That was all the encouragement she needed. Jemma was expecting a bit more fanfare about a gallery opening, even one this small, but there didn’t appear to be anyone here yet. 

She pushed through the door and strode into the gallery, her slightly uncomfortable heels clicking loudly on the wood floors. She peered around corners looking for Daisy, or really any other person, but didn’t see anyone, so she paced around and looked at Daisy’s art. 

Then, Jemma was more confused. Everything framed and stuck to the walls was just doodles on the back of a receipt of a gum wrapper. It wasn’t the kind of work that would normally be put up in a gallery. 

“Do you like them?” a familiar voice called out behind her. 

Jemma spun around and saw Daisy, dressed to the nines, slowly walking towards her. 

“I…I guess. I’m just a little confused,” Jemma admitted. “And where is everyone? I thought you said everyone important would be here.”

“They are,” Daisy replied, her eyes fixed solely on Jemma. “Let me show you around.” This wouldn’t be the first time Daisy had to explain the intricacies of her art to Jemma. Just like Daisy took awhile to grasp microscopic biochemical processes, Jemma was not adept at interpreting art. 

Daisy just smiled. “Don’t you recognize them?”

Jemma furrowed her brow. Why would she recognize doodles on gum wrappers? Daisy guided her back to the one by the door. It was a crumpled gum wrapped that had been laid flat with two poorly-drawn stick figure girls sitting in desks speaking. There was a tiny plaque under it with the title First Words. 

It still wasn’t any clearer to Jemma, so Daisy took her hand and walked to the next one. This one was a lined piece of paper, clearly ripped out of a notebook, that had the same two girls at a long table, but one had some red scribble in her mouth and was titled Spaghetti Challenge. Jemma chuckled, since that one reminded her of the time in high school where Daisy had been dared to cram an entire spaghetti order into her mouth. 

Daisy moved onto the next one and the pattern started to dawn on Jemma. The picture was on another gum wrapper and featured a small blue car and one of the girls leaving in it. The background was a wide road that faded into the distance where there was a big castle labelled College. The other girl had a small broken heart above her head. Daisy scratched her ear nervously and moved onto the next wall. 

There was apparently quite a time skip here and the art style drastically improved. This one was drawn on a scrap of the same sturdy paper Daisy left lying around their apartment all the time for her class projects. It was a doodle of the two girls, which now that they had more fleshed out features, Jemma could tell were herself and Daisy, hugging in a café while another figure (presumably Bobbi) stole their food. 

The next was a situation that Jemma recognized as one of their Friday movie nights in Daisy’s and Bobbi’s dorm, but she didn’t recognize the exact context. There seemed to be an astronaut sitting next to Jemma and Daisy was throwing tiny daggers at him. It was labelled Jealousy. 

Jemma shot Daisy a curious look, but she just grinned and walked on. 

The one that followed was obviously a focal point, with its multiple spotlights and larger frame. This one was also ripped out of a sketchbook, but it was a larger page and contained more detail. The simple, stick-figure style was the same but it had a light colored pencil gradient sketched into the sky above the two girls in a pool in an open field. Some flecks of white paint made up the stars accompanied by a single streak of white for a meteor. The plague underneath read Best Meteor Shower Ever. Jemma smirked at the memory. 

The pattern continued. Sketches of Daisy and Jemma’s first date, second date, third date, that time Daisy made Jemma think she had gruesomely injured herself while making spaghetti, rendered in gory detail with vicious strokes of a red pen, the time Jemma made Daisy snort soda out of her nose with a particularly bad pun. Every landmark of their relationship scratched out in minimalist form on the backs of gum wrappers, receipts, take-out menus, etc. Basically, anything Daisy could get her hands on at the time. 

Jemma circled the gallery in awe. Daisy had kept these scraps of memories for years, almost a decade in some cases, and documented everything. 

Jemma circled back to the beginning of the display and noticed a solitary frame in the middle of the back wall. There were multiple spotlights aimed at this one lonely picture, as well as one pointed at the floor a few feet away. Jemma moved closer to the tiny scrap framed on the wall so she could see the detail. 

It was on a gum wrapped that was pressed so flat, all the creases had been carefully ironed out. The two girls were again the main feature. 

One was standing in the middle of an art gallery looking shocked. 

The other was in front of her, down on one knee. 

Jemma gasped and whirled around. She hadn’t noticed Daisy drop her hand or leave her side, but she slipped away while Jemma was entranced with reliving their memories. 

Now, Daisy knelt in the middle of the strategically placed spotlight, with a small velvet box in her shaking hands. Daisy pulled a smirk, but Jemma could tell it was wavering and she was cripplingly nervous. 

Daisy opened and closed her mouth a few times before frowning amusedly at herself. “You know, I had this whole romantic spiel planned out once I got to this point, but…I kinda just forgot the whole thing.” Her eyes sparkled with happy tears. “And you crying definitely isn’t helping.”

Jemma hadn’t even realized that she had tears rolling down her cheeks. She gave a watery laugh and stepped towards Daisy. 

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, you know,” Jemma teased. 

Daisy chuckled. “I know. But with all the crap we’ve been through, the one thing I’ve known the whole time, without a doubt…is that you and I belong together.”

That was it for Jemma. The tears flowed even more freely down her face as she threw her arms around Daisy’s neck. Daisy huffed a short laugh, but Jemma could tell from the dampness on her shoulder that Daisy was crying too. 

“So, is that a yes?” Daisy muttered into Jemma’s neck. 

Jemma laughed breathlessly. “Of course it’s a yes.”

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

Wise men say, only fools rush in.

But I can’t help falling in love with you. 

The minute the first chords of the song played, Daisy hoisted up the front of her dress and squeezed through the crowd toward Jemma. Jemma was sprawled out across two chairs at the 'in-laws’ table, her bare feet propped up on one and her discarded high heels tucked underneath it. Any other time, Daisy would have stopped just to watch her giggling into her glass of champagne with her family around her—now Daisy’s family as well, she realized with a jolt—but right now, she was on a mission. 

“Can I steal you for a dance?” Daisy asked, extended a hand to Jemma. Jemma turned her flushed face towards Daisy and beamed. She set her glass down on the table and rose to meet Daisy with more grace than Daisy was expecting, given the amount of champagne Jemma had already consumed. Still, she took Daisy’s hand and strolled out to the center of the dance floor beside her. 

Like a river flows surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Somethings are meant to be

Take my hand, and take my whole life, too

The standard hold for a partner dance was too distant for both Daisy and Jemma’s tastes, so they smushed the combined bulk of both of their white dresses together and held each other in a hug-like embrace while they swayed on the floor. All the practice they had done in Daisy’s cramped apartment the preceding weeks was unnecessary. It didn’t matter how they looked or how well they could waltz. 

All that mattered was that Daisy now could hold Jemma, her wife, as tight as she wanted and nothing was going to take her away. As Daisy glanced out the windows of the banquet hall, over the bright city lights that glistened off every surface, Daisy started to understand why Jemma loved this sappy song. 

So won’t you please

Take my hand, and take my whole life, too. 

'Cause I can’t help falling in love 

In love with you

'Cause I can’t help

Falling in love

With

You.

The End.