#since the shelf I was supposed to get when mom got herself a new one kind of busted on them when they began to move it

[bitchapalooza]

Not a big fan of the dickney doorables, to me they’re kind of off putting somehow but are still kind of cute, but I ordered a set for like 22 bucks bc it has Pluto in it lmao it’ll be here tomorrow but idk when I’ll be able to pick it up (unless I say fuck it and call out one day so I CAN have my two days fucking off to catch up on sleep and laundry). It’s flocked tho. All the figures are flocked. So guess who might have to wear gloves when handling these fuckers in case the flock is a no-touchie texture~ ;)

[just-jordie-things]

Ghost

word count: 11,648 warnings: swearing, mentions of death, reader is an orphan,  summary: John B was the closest thing to family that (y/n) had left, and now he’s gone and disappeared.  Fortunately JJ’s there to help her feel whole again. based on this song ___

[ yelling at the sky, screaming at the world // baby why’d you go away?... heaven only knows where you are now ]

August 10th, 9:30 p.m (The Night Of The Disappearance of John B Routledge and Sarah Cameron)

“Unfortunately… we lost them” Officer Thomas said, hanging his head shamefully.

Pope broke down right away, Kiara at his side, comforting him with a hug and soft words.

“What do you mean you lost them?” JJ asked, jumping straight to anger.  “They’re just gone? They’re dead!?”

(y/n) stood back, glancing down at her cold hands, finding that they’ve begun to shake with the new information.  She didn’t know how to process what she was hearing.

“We don’t know for certain-” Thomas tried to explain, but JJ wasn’t having it, he lashed out completely.

“You drove them right into the storm!” He yelled, lunging for the cop, grabbing him by his shirt and shaking him violently.  “You killed them-!”

“JJ..” Kiara cried out, clutching tighter to Pope’s side as she began to quietly sob.

He released the cop with a shove, turning back to his remaining friends.  Pope pulled Kiara into his arms, crying into her hair silently.

But (y/n) was frozen in place, her expression hadn’t changed since Thomas had told them what happened.  Tears were streaming down her cheeks quickly, more and more spilling over with each passing second.  Her whole body shook, and she wrapped her arms around herself.  She wasn’t sure if it was the grief or the cold, but either way, her own embrace provided no comfort.

“(y/n/n)- sweetheart…” JJ stepped towards her, his hands outstretched for her to take if she needed, but she didn’t move.  Her eyes didn’t even meet his.

“John B…” She whimpered, her lip quivering as she sniffled.  “Sarah…”

When a sob escaped her, JJ was there in a second, grabbing onto her and holding her as tightly as he could in his arms.  She continued to sob, screaming and crying as her body finally reacted.

She thrashed in his hold, squirming and pushing at him, hands smacking at his arms and chest, trying to pry him off of her, even though deep down all she craved was to be held, comforted.

“It’s not fair! It’s not fair,” She was screaming, drawing the attention of the surrounding officers, as well as the Carreras and the Heywards who had shown up to comfort their children.

But (y/n) had no one to show up for her, they were all dead.

“It’s not fair- It's not fair it’s not fair” She continued to cry against JJ, until her knees gave out and she crumpled to the ground.  

The blonde boy followed with her, gathering her back in his arms no matter how much she fought and pushed him away.

But eventually her body tired out, and she gave in.  He could feel her slump into his shoulder as she rested all of her weight on him.  His own tears soaked into her hair and tee shirt as he dropped his face to her own shoulder.

“Not fair” She mumbled, on repeat, until her crying made her too incoherent to understand.  

He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know what to do, he’d never seen (y/n) like this before, much less how you were supposed to react when your best friend, and your kinda new friend, were lost at sea.

“I’ve got you,” He said instead, knowing that there were no magic words to heal her.  “I’m here, I’ve got you”

They didn’t fix everything, but they seemed to do the trick, because she finally wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her hands fisting into the material of his shirt as she clutched onto him with the same intensity that he held her with.

They spent hours in that tent, long after Pope and Kiara’s parents took them home, they were still there.  Technically they were supposed to wait for a parent or guardian to pick them up.  But JJ’s father was a coked up piece of shit, and (y/n’s) parents were six feet underground.

She didn’t push him away again.  She spent the whole night in his arms, clinging onto him with an iron grip.  And ever since that night, she hasn’t really let go of him. ___

[ how do i love? how do i trust again? ]

September 10th, 3:00 a.m (One Month After The Disappearance of John B Routledge and Sarah Cameron)

“Wake up, (y/n/n), wake up”

The girl gasped for air as her eyes flew open, and as quickly as she’d woken up, she settled back into her pillow, eyes falling shut again as she let out a sign.

“I was doing it again, wasn’t I?” She muttered, squeezing her eyes shut tight as she tried not to cry, and tried not to remember the vivid details of her nightmare.

Which was more of a traumatic memory than a nightmare, really.

JJ, who was lying next to her, was quiet as he gazed down at her, watching her calm herself down as best she could.  He always gave her the space to relax on her own before stepping in.  He wanted her to know that she was capable of recovering on her own, but that he would still be there for her as soon as she needed him.

After a few deep breaths, the girl rolled onto her side, her face colliding with his chest as she continued her steady breathing.

“Will you hold my hand?” She mumbled, and he simply nodded, reaching for her trembling fingers, and gently slotting his fingers through hers.  She continued to tap her index finger over the back of his hand at a rapid pace.

She did this for a minute or two before speaking again.

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be sorry, baby, it’s alright,” He murmured to her softly, followed by a kiss to her forehead.  “I’ve got you”

A small choked sound came from her as tears threatened to well up in her eyes again.

She’d spent the last month in bed with him like this.  No matter how much time passed, and no matter how much her grief started to melt away and she began her coping process, she’d still wake up in the middle of the night from awful nightmares.

She hadn’t planned on being a regular guest in JJ’s bed at the Chateau, but she also didn’t have anywhere else to go.  She didn’t have a place of her own, she’d lived at the Chateau since she was six and John Routledge had taken her in.

She was just a child when her parents got into a freak boating accident and died at sea.  She hadn’t understood why she was put in the system, or why she couldn’t go home to her mom and dad.  But for some reason, her friend John B had gotten his dad to take her in, and after a day or two of moving in, she’d understood.

John and John B were her family now.

But then a year ago, John Routledge was declared lost at sea, and it was just her and John B.  It was hard, since he was pretty much the only father she’d ever known, and since he was announced dead, in the same way her parents had been.  At least she still had John B, who was a brother to her.

Fate had a sick sense of humor though, sending him off into a storm, likely killing him.

And she ended up losing him, too.

JJ’s free hand smoothed over her back, caressing her hair, and then rubbing circles over her back again.  He always did his best to comfort her in any way she needed.  And it had been a month of waking up with her to her nightmares, so he always knew just what to do.

“Can we go stay in his room?” She asked quietly.

That was a new request that JJ hadn’t been expecting, but nonetheless, he nodded, and helped her to sit up.  He reached his hands out for her, offering to help her get out of bed, but she limply hung her arms in the air, silently asking him to carry her.

“Alright, you big baby,” He teased in a tired murmur, and leaned over to wrap his arms around her torso, picking her up and pulling her into his chest.

Her legs instinctively wrapped around his hips, and her head laid down on his shoulder.  Had she not been so shaken up, she could have fallen right back asleep.

“But I’m only doing this cause you’re so damn cute” He told her as his hands shifted to hold her from under her legs, and he carefully made his way through the dark to get to John B’s room.

The flirty comment provoked a small and sleepy laugh from the girl.  It wasn’t much, but it was something, and it provided a certain comfort to JJ.  it had been a while since she truly laughed.  He missed the sound dearly.

(y/n) had spent some time in John B’s room during the long summer days.  But she’d never spent the night in it.

JJ would often find her in there, cleaning up, reorganizing his book shelf, playing his CD’s, feeding the fish he’d won at a carnival a year ago that was miraculously still alive- she’d do anything and everything to spend time in there.  To her, it was all that was left of him.

JJ had even caught her putting on his clothes, worn tee shirts, strangely-patterned button downs, sweaters that were too big for her- but she always took them off before anyone could see.  JJ pretended not to notice, and never said anything.  Both because he didn’t want her to feel embarrassed, but also because sometimes when she spent all of her time in that room, he’d feel just the tiniest amount of jealousy, and it made him feel ashamed.

[ i stay up all night, tell myself i’m alright // baby you’re just harder to see than most ]

“Alright, here we go, baby,” He said as he delicately set her down on the mattress.

(y/n) visibly deflated as she melted into the cool sheets.  Her limbs were still wrapped around JJ’s figure, so she pulled him down with her as she got situated, but he didn’t mind.

With great caution, he slipped out of her hold just enough to lay at her side, so that he wouldn’t pass out on top of her.

He watched as she seemingly relaxed for the night, finally.  She pressed her face deep into the pillow her head was under, taking in a deep breath, the lingering smell of cologne and the beach and something that was distinctly John B flooding her senses.

“It still smells like him” She murmured.  She doesn’t sound like she’s going to cry again, but JJ keeps a watchful eye on her, just in case.

When she exhaled, she opened her eyes, meeting his gaze.  He gave her a small smile, which she faintly returned before moving in closer to him.

“Thank you” She whispered as her forehead touched his gently.

His arms wrapped around the small of her back, pulling her into him completely.  And then he kissed her forehead again, and then her nose, before tucking her head against his chest, just under his chin.

She tended to lean her ear against his chest, using the steady beat of his heart to lure her to sleep.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart” He told her, like he had a million times before.

“I know, you always say that,” (y/n) murmured, lips brushing over his neck as she spoke.  “But I mean it anyways.  Thank you, Jay”

Her hand finds a comfortable place to rest just over his heart, and soon she’s drifting back to a seemingly peaceful sleep.  JJ just hopes she makes it through the night.

He lets his hand brush through her hair, untangling the locks until his fingers can run perfectly smooth through it.  He does this until he falls asleep. ___

[ i put the record on, wait till i hear our song // every night i’m dancing with your ghost ]

July 4th, 10:00 p.m (A Month Before The Disappearance of John B Routledge and Sarah Cameron)

Neither of them had made a move yet, but they both knew all too well that there was something between them.  Something fiery and exciting, something soft and intimate.

JJ always flirted with (y/n), long before he realized he actually had feelings for one of his closest Pogue friends.  They’d been friends since they were kids, and they’d technically been living together for the past few months, but only recently had it dawned on him that he was falling in love with her, and it was happening fast.

“As flattering as I find your staring, you look very zoned out,” Her voice drew him from his thoughts, and he found himself grinning as (y/n) walked up to him, beer in hand.

John B and Pope had thrown a Fourth of July kegger, and it was probably the craziest party they’d had in years.  Tourons and Kooks had shown up from all over the island, and every kid on The Cut made an appearance that night.

A couple of Kooks had even brought in their own kegs to help supply the party with enough beer.

But despite all the people here, all the hot Tourons to be exact, JJ had been content that (y/n) had approached him, with her sweet smile and revealing bikini.

“What’s goin’ through that pretty head of yours, hm?” She asked, only half teasing.

All summed had been like this.  The flirting intensified, and they both stopped pursuing one night stands with the Tourons that came to these things.

“Absolutely nothing,” JJ grinned back at her, and she laughed, believing him.  “Where you been all night? Fighting off all these guys I hope?” He asked, half joking.

Coincidentally, a group of basic white tourist boys walked past, one of them letting out a low whistle as their eyes wandered over (y/n’s) figure.

JJ scowled at him, stepping forward threateningly, one of his arms instinctively wrapping around the girl’s waist as he glared down the Touron until he cowered away.

“Wow,” (y/n) chuckled, one of her hands pressing against JJ’s chest, but she didn’t push him away, so he didn’t move.  “You made your point tough guy, jesus,” She said, raising her brows at him.  “Jealous much?”

“Me? Jealous?” He asked with a scoff, to which (y/n) mimicked the sound.

“That’s real hot coming from the most jealous and pissed off guy in the OBX” She teased with a growing smirk on her lips.

“Well, sure, but I’m not jealous of that guy,” JJ told her, gesturing at the lame Touron who was miserably failing at shotgunning a beer.

But as he watched the idiot with an amused grin, (y/n) just smiled up at the blonde boy, admiring his side profile for a moment.

Unlike most stories of friends who became lovers, where they weren’t sure when their friendship blossomed into something more, (y/n) knew exactly when she fell for JJ.

It had been last summer.  They’d been on the HMS Pogue on a fishing trip, and while she’d never been fishing before, she was eager to let JJ and Pope teach her how.  When she caught her first fish, JJ had cheered, but he could tell that it made her sad to throw it in the cooler.  So he told her it was alright if she wanted to throw it back.  He showed her how to carefully take the fish off the lure so it wouldn’t be as hurt, and let her throw it back in the water.

He must have felt her staring, because suddenly he was turning back to her, his eyes locking on hers instantly.

“Look who’s starin’ now” He teased, his fingers brushing against her hips in an attempt at tickling her.

She giggled and wiggled a bit, but she still didn’t pull away from him.

They were very close, so close that if JJ hadn’t been wearing his hat backwards, then its brim would have been bumping into her forehead.  So close, that she could just faintly feel his warm breath hitting the bridge of her nose.  So close, that it would be so easy to kiss him right now.

Curiously, her eyes wandered down to his lips, pink and inviting, begging to be kissed, she thought.  No wonder girls would throw themselves at him, he had the most perfect looking pair of lips.

Of course, before she could decide if it was worth it to throw reason (and the only Pogue rule) out the window, Rafe and Topper were causing trouble somewhere on the beach, and soon JJ was peeling himself away from her and racing off towards the conflict.

He was always there to end it, never one to shy away from a fight.  (y/n) had come to terms with that a long time ago, knowing it was something she’d never be able to change.

But looking back on it, if he hadn’t left her to get his ass kicked by Rafe Cameron, then they probably would have crossed that line between friendship and something more that very night. ___

[ Never got a chance to say a last goodbye ]

September 15th, 9:45 a.m (Two Months After The Disappearance of John B Routledge and Sarah Cameron)

The sun was unrelenting as it shined in through the window, forcing (y/n) to wake up despite her longing to sleep in bed all day.  It wouldn’t be the first time that she refused to get out of bed.

But she told herself that she should.  The sun was telling her that she should.  Even if she did manage to close her eyes and ignore the brightness streaming into the room, she knew she wouldn’t sleep comfortably.

Today, she was going to get up and make herself breakfast.  That felt like a good start for taking care of herself today.

She rolled over with a groan, in an attempt to reach for JJ to see if he was awake.  Some mornings he would wake up before her and she’d find him laying there on his phone, but sometimes he would just peacefully lay there as he waited for her to wake up.

However, as she lazily slung her hand towards the other side of the bed, she only ended up hitting pillows.  And suddenly the easy morning started to turn upside down.

Don’t freak out, she told herself, even as she scurried out of bed.  

Don’t panic, it’s fine, he’s probably just watching tv in the living room.  

As she was about to run out of the room, she decided at the last second it was probably best to throw on a pair of shorts.  The large tee shirt she well fell just past all of her curves, but it would be embarrassing if she ran through the Chateau in front of Pope and Kiara in a worried panic without pants on.

Or maybe he’s making breakfast, like that one time he brought you breakfast in bed, that was really sweet.

None of the calming ideas that crossed her mind actually calmed her, as she searched through the living room, there was no sign of JJ.  The kitchen was empty, the bathroom door was hung ajar, and also empty.

There was a logical explanation for him not being here, deep down she knew that, but then why didn’t he leave a note? Or wake her to let her know he’d be leaving? Why would he leave without saying anything at all? Didn’t he know that this was her worst fear come to life, again?

Panic took over, and next thing she knew she couldn’t take in enough air as her throat closed up and her legs stopped working.  She stood in the living room for a solid minute, hands glued to her head, fists tugging on her hair tightly in a terrible attempt to ground herself to the moment and not spiral any further.

But her heavy breaths turned to sobs and she didn’t know she was crying until she felt the tears on her cheeks.

There’s a logical explanation, there’s a logical explanation, she repeated in her head like a mantra, hoping to god that she’d start believing it soon.

Slowly, she crouched down on the floor, because sometimes when she had panic attacks she got dizzy so it was better to sit down now.

Or maybe he went boating with Pope, they like to fish early in the morning, she thought.  Maybe they hit something, the marsh is always changing with the weather.  Maybe the boat capsized, maybe they drowned to their deaths-

No! Don’t think that!

The sobbing got worse as she assumed the worst, taking in gasping breaths of air, desperate to fill her lungs that felt like they were about to collapse.

Maybe they went into town to pick up breakfast.  Maye they got stopped by Kooks, or Barry, maybe they were murdered in cold blood-

The girl whimpered, trying to ward off the horrific images rolling through her mind, but as terrible as they were, she reminded herself that these weren’t unrealistic worries, that these things had happened before, and would happen again.

He promised me he wouldn’t get on a fucking boat, he promised me he’d start biking around the island, she told herself.  JJ wouldn’t break a promise to her, especially that one, but the anxiety inside of her was still whispering into her ear, telling her that all of her friends very well could have been gone forever.

Maybe he just left.  Maybe he got sick and tired of waiting around.  Maybe he was just being a nice guy the last two months.  Maybe he didn’t care anymore.  Maybe he didn’t miss John B or Sarah.  Maybe he finally fled for the mainland like he’s been talking about since he was a kid.  Maybe he’s with a girl.  Maybe he didn’t care about you anymore.

Her hands covered her face, wishing that she could just stop and focus on something else, calm her breathing.  She wanted to run out of the Chateau and go looking around the island, but she remained frozen on the floor.

“(y/n)?” A voice called, and she could faintly hear the screen door swinging open and then shut.  “Woah, hey, (y/n/n)”

Through blurry eyes, she could just barely make out Pope’s figure, kneeling in front of her.

Pope, Pope is here, she thought to herself, and it sort of helped relax her.  You’re not alone, Pope is here.

She shakily reached her hands out to him, grabbing onto his forearms and anchoring herself to him.

He’s real, he’s right here.  His hands are holding your elbows, he’s real.

“Breathe, (y/n), deep breaths, you can do it,” His initially stressed voice calmed when he realized that she was having a panic attack.  He’d seen her have them once or twice before, but it was always JJ who rushed in and helped her out of them.  “Copy my breathing, can you do that?” He asked.

She nodded her head, eyes meeting his as he took in a long and deep breath, held it for three seconds, and then slowly let it out.  He kept on repeating that action until her exhales weren’t shaky, and her body relaxed.

“There you go, you’ve got it, you’re alright…” He said smoothly.

His thumbs caressed over her arms gently, reminding her silently that he was there for her, that he cared about her.

“You want to talk about it?” He offered, and (y/n) shut her eyes tightly, willing the rest of her tears to dry up.

“I- I woke up and- and-”

When she began to stutter, Pope hushed her soothingly, and helped her through another breathing exercise.

“Okay, now try again,” He said softly, once her breaths evened out again.  “Slowly”

“I woke up,” She said, slowly, and then exhaled.  “And JJ wasn’t there- and then he wasn’t out here-”

When the rambling began again, she breathed in deeply again.

“It’s alright, he’s right outside,” Pope told her, relieved that the problem had an easy solution..  “You want to go out and see him?”

(y/n) nods back at him, and he helps her stand.

“Kie and I came over this morning, we brought donuts,” He said, hugging her into his side.  “We were just on the porch, Jay said you were asleep”

Pope opened the front door for her, as they went onto the porch, and her entire body relaxed as her eyes landed on JJ.

He was sitting on the beat up sofa that had been out there since forever, while Kiara was leaning against the citing of the house, a blunt between her fingers.

JJ smiled as (y/n) came out with Pope, tucked into his side the way a child clings to their mother at large events.

“Morning baby,” He calls to her, and pats the space next to him on the couch, before resting his arm over the back of the cushions.  

In no time she peels away from Pope and is sliding into the space under his arm, her side and her legs pressed up against him.  It feels like that first sip of coffee in the morning, and she forgets about the anxiety attack she’d had just moments ago.

He eyes the way she’s twirling the ring around her thumb, almost obsessively.  She hasn’t taken it off since he’d given it to her, and he doesn’t think she ever will.

“You hungry? Kie and Pope brought donuts” He offered, gesturing to the box on the decorative table Kiara was standing next to.

“Maybe in a little bit” She mumbled, her head falling against his shoulder as she let herself feel relieved.

Some days it was hard to feel content with being content.  But JJ was a huge help with that.  His presence alone was enough to calm her, that much was obvious.

He’s a little thrown off, but wraps his arm around her nonetheless.  His rings are a chill on her hot skin, but it’s somehow comforting.

Panic attack, Pope mouths when the blonde boy looks to him, silently asking what happened.

JJ nods discreetly, before glancing down at the girl under his arm.

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly.

Kiara and Pope pretended to argue over the last chocolate sprinkled donut, so that they had a little bit of privacy between them.

“Fine, now,” She whispers back.

Her fingers aimlessly play with the chain around his neck.

“I- I had a panic attack” She admits.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He asked as the tips of his fingers grazed up and down her arm.

She lifts her head to look at him properly, her fingers still twirling his necklace around her fingers.

“Um… you just… you weren't inside…”

It felt embarrassing to admit that something as simple as that had set her off.  When she was in the moment it was a lot more terrifying.  But JJ made sure she wasn’t ashamed of that feeling.

“Well, I’m right here,” He told her with a grin.  “You know you can’t get rid of me that easy” He added, hugging her tight against him and kissing the top of her head.

She always went pink when he did that, that’s why he did it more often than he used to.

“I know,” She mumbled back.  “I just… you know…”

She doesn’t know what she wants to say.  That she’s scared to lose him too? That he’s the only anchor she had left? The only remnants of family she had left? That she loved him more than words could describe?

Whatever she had planned on filling the blank with, JJ seemed to understand her perfectly.  He’d gotten really good at understanding what she was trying to say in between the words she was actually saying.

“I know, baby,” He says softly.

Her head falls back onto his shoulder.  Selfishly, she wished that she could sit here with him like this every day.  Maybe then she'll start to really feel better.

Meanwhile there’s a nagging feeling in JJ’s chest.  Worry, fear, something terrible that began to manifest.  An anxiousness that (y/n) won’t emotionally recover from the disappearance of their friends.

He knew grief took time, that learning to cope took time.  But she’d already had to face those things time and time again, what if this was it? What if this was the last straw, and she gave into them?

His arm around her tightened a little, and (y/n) hummed as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck.  She placed a little kiss there before sighing.

“Thanks, Jay,” She mumbles.  “You always know just what I need”

He doesn’t say anything, just smiles and rubs her arm comfortingly.

Despite her words, he still worries on the inside. ___

[ i gotta move on, but it hurts to try ]

August 10th, 1:00 a.m (The Night Of The Disappearance of John B Routledge and Sarah Cameron)

(y/n) and JJ had been stuck under police supervision for the last three and a half hours, sitting under the large tents, listening to the heavy rainfall while passing officers would offer their condolences.

It was all bullshit though, and it was starting to piss (y/n) off.

But finally they were allowed to go home, and were escorted to the Chateau.  Which is where they stood now.

(y/n) looked like she was glued to the floorboards of the porch, frozen in place like a statue.  The wind whipped at her hair and the rain still hit them even as they stood under the little roof over them.

“Come on, let’s go inside,” JJ said, reaching out to take her hand, but even as he tugs, she hardly moves.  “(y/n)-”

“I don’t want to,” She mumbles, eyes trained on the front door.

A part of her longed to see John B appear, open the door with a laugh and scold the pair for standing outside in the rain.  The harder she looks, the more she wishes to see him there.

“But I don’t have anywhere else to go” She whimpered, finally tearing her eyes away from the door to look at him.

JJ steps forward, his arm wrapping around her back as he slowly guides her inside.  Her feet shuffle along, but they barely lift off the ground, and she’s barely moving.  He’s just glad to get her inside and out of the rain.

���I just don’t want you to catch a cold, sweetheart” He told her, which was true, but he just needed to say anything to get her to come into the house.  He didn’t know what he’d do if she refused.

“I don’t care” She mumbled, but she was already standing at the inside of the doorway.

“Shoes off,” JJ told her, having already left his shoes at the door and was heading into the house.  “You know how JB feels about shoes in the house”

(y/n) nods, shakily, and starts to kick off her shoes

But now all she can think about is the first time she’d accidentally tracked mud into the house, and how funny it was when John B freaked out.  Thinking about it now, it was just sad.

When JJ came back in the room, she was crying again, silently, she might not have even been aware she was doing it.  She was untying the laces on her boots as tears spilled over her cheeks.

“Come on,” He spoke, and suddenly there was a towel wrapped around her shoulders.  “Let’s go get you cleaned up, okay?”

“No,” She mumbled.  “I just want to lay down”

Her hands gripped onto the fluffy towel almost violently, her knuckles were white, and her hands shook from the force.  JJ noticed.

“And you will, but you’ve got to shower first,” He said.  “Look at you, you’re soaked to the bone from the rain-”

“JJ-”

“No arguments, lets go” He replied, quiet and calm as ever.

She gave in, mostly because he didn’t have the energy to argue with him.  And then she was back to shuffling along with him to the bathroom.

She stood uselessly at the door while he turned the shower on for her.

“How hot do you want it?” He asked, one hand on the noz and the other under the stream of water

She shrugged, mumbled incoherently.

“You’ve got to speak up, honey” JJ said.

“I don’t care” She mumbled a little louder, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Yeah you do, I’ll put it on hot” He answered for her, and adjusted the nozzle accordingly.

But as he turned back, about to leave the room, she didn’t bother to move.  Her eyes were downcast, and her hands had released the towel only to wring her hands together.

“Hey, I’ll be in my room, you can-”

“Wait-”

She grabbed his wrist before he could leave the room, and her glossy eyes met his, her mouth opened but no words came out, so she closed it again.  He waited until she could find the right words.

“Please- please don’t leave me in here-”

Her breathing grew ragged and the tears started to fall from her eyelashes, and JJ nodded at her, silently confirming he'd stay so she would feel safe.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay right here,” He told her, both of his hands wrapping around hers.  “I’ll wait right in here for you, alright?”

She nods, still a bit shaky, but she turns towards the shower and slowly works on taking off her clothes, so he thinks he’s doing the right thing.

In all honesty, he had no idea what the right thing to do was.  As he turned his back to her and stressfully ran his hands through her hair, he didn’t know what to say or do, what the right way to comfort someone was.

He knew that Kiara and Pope were at home with their families, probably hugging, telling each other they love each other, the kind of shit you see in movies.

But you didn’t see this part of the movie.  The part where the girl you love is going borderline catanoic as she stands in the shower, limbs heavy and heart shattered.

Was he supposed to talk to her? Offer what few comforting words he knew how to say? Was he supposed to tell her he was there for her, that he loved her and he would never leave her? Was that an overload of information?

“JJ?” (y/n) called from the other side of the shower curtain.

“I’m here” He said, sitting on the toilet seat so he’d be right next to her.

She peeled back the curtain, just enough to peek her head out, and then held her hand out to him.  A slight frown tugged on his lips, but he reached his hand out to hers anyways, softly clasping onto it, as though if he’d put any pressure into holding it, then she’d break like a porcelain doll.

She closed the curtain again and went about her shower.  It wasn’t a bother with only one hand, but JJ could still hear her soft whimpers from inside.

After ten minutes she turned off the water.

“Close your eyes” She directed, her voice was still a mumble, but without the noise of the water running JJ heard her clearly, and followed her order.

Her hand let go of his as she grabbed her towel and wrapped it around herself, but it was only briefly, as she was grabbing onto it again as soon as she was covered up.  She gave it a small squeeze to let him know that she was decent.

When he looked up at her, she was staring down at their hands, focused on the rings on his fingers.

The one on his thumb, she had given to him.  Not for a special occasion, she’d just found it in a shop and thought it would look fitting and cool on him.  

She was right.  

He never took it off.

There was another ring on his middle finger, that one was from John B.  He’d swiped it from a second hand shop because it had a neat but very faint engraving of a snake around it.  He’d originally stolen it for himself, but it hadn’t fit right, so he handed it off to JJ.

(y/n) ran the pad of her thumb over the engraving now.  The snake wasn’t very visible, but she could still feel it.

JJ squeezed her hand, drawing her eyes back to his.

She wasn’t whimpering anymore, but the tears hadn’t stopped.  She had to be exhausted.

“I’ve gotta take a shower baby,” He said softly.  “You want to go to bed?”

She shook her head, looking back at his rings.

“You want to wait in here?” He asked.

With a small nod from her, he stood up, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to the crown of her head before turning the water and going through the same routine again.

It took some time as he showered and (y/n) waited for him on the toilet.  When he’d finished and gotten out to find that she was still wrapped in her towel, he’d convinced her to let him help her change into pajamas.

When she’d finished, she wrapped her arms around his neck, stepping forward and hugging him gently, with little to no force at all.

“Alright, let’s get you to bed” JJ said, lifting her up with ease, one arm hooked under her legs and the other.

“You’ll stay, right?” She asks meekly as he brings her to his room.

“Of course” He hums back.

They get situated under the covers, and finally (y/n’s) tears seem to stop.  JJ doesn’t keep his hopes up, though.

He pulls her head to his chest, one arm wrapping around her back at his other hand takes a hold of hers.  For good measure, she hooks her leg over one of his, just to be sure she won’t roll away from him in her sleep.

“You won’t leave?” She murmurs.

The exhaustion and the misery that her body is facing is clear to him as she tilts her head back to look at him.

He gives her a small smile, before letting go of her hand, so that he can take the ring off of his middle finger.  He takes her hand again, and slides it over her thumb.  It’s a little loose, enough that she can twirl it around with ease.

“Now you can have a little bit of both of us with you,” JJ says to her.  “I’m not goin’ anywhere”

She doesn’t quite smile, but her expression relaxes as she looks at him, and he takes it as a good sign.

“I’ve got you, baby” He tells her softly as she settles against him, sleep finally starting to overcome her.

“I can’t lose you too” She tells him right before her body gives out. ___

[ how do i love? how do i trust again? ]

November 10th, 6:30 p.m (Precisely Three Months After The Disappearance of John B Routledge and Sarah Cameron)

(y/n) had been sitting on the couch all afternoon, replaying the day’s events in her head like a flashback scene in a movie.

She’d woken up with JJ, they made breakfast and went on a walk, avoiding the beach.  They went to visit Kiara at The Wreck with Pope, and then went back to the Chateau to do some chores.

(y/n) liked to keep the place tidy and clean.  It gave her something to do, and deep down, she knew that if John B came home, he’d be happy to see everything was just how he left it.  If not a little more organized thanks to her.

And then they’d gotten the call from the Sheriff’s Department.

JJ came into the room, a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of advil in the other.

“Here” He said, handing them both to her.

“I don’t need it, my head doesn’t hurt” (y/n) replied quietly, barely even looking at him.

“Not now, but from the look on your face I can tell it’s going to soon.  Just take it now, please” JJ said, holding out the cup and bottle towards her again.

(y/n) gave in, knowing he was right, and there was no use in arguing with him because he’d only bother her until she just took the pill.

JJ sat down next to her as she swallowed down the medicine, along with a few more drinks of water.  She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was, and suddenly wondered how long she’d been sitting there.

“Where do you think they are?” JJ asked out of nowhere, and she turned to him.

“What?” She asked, voice barely above a mumble.

“John B and Sarah,” He said their names so easily, so casually her heart clenched.  

She almost never spoke their names.  And when she did, she was usually in a fit of tears.

“Where do you think they are?” JJ repeated his question.

(y/n’s) mouth opened, then closed.  And then open and closed again.  She didn’t understand what he was asking.

JJ could tell, and he sat back to stretch out on the soda, his legs kicking out as his back leaned against the arm rest.  (y/n) turned her body to look at him properly, but didn’t crawl into his arms like he’d expected.  She was too confused trying to comprehend what he was saying.

“I think they’re in Florida,” JJ thought aloud, realizing (y/n) wasn’t going to entertain the question.  “And I think they got married”

“Married?” She mumbled, blinking at him.  “You think they’re... alive?”

“Of course,” JJ said, as sincerely as he could.  “Don’t you?”

She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t have to.

“There’s no way they aren’t.  John B’s a pretty tough guy, and Sarah’s the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.  More stubborn than you” He spoke with such ease, it threw (y/n) off.  

His knee knocked against her side, and he held his hand out to her, beckoning her to lay with him.

Warily, she leaned forward, crawling into the space between his legs, and then flipping over to rest back against his chest.  JJ’s arms wrapped around her middle naturally, and he continued to let his thoughts roam free.

“Do you think they’ve got some new treasure hunt going down there?” He whispered into her ear.

“Yes” (y/n) replied, finally giving in to the conspiracy.

“Yeah?” JJ asked, glad that was entertained by the idea, and hopefully comforted too.

“Yeah… I’ll bet… I’ll bet they’re tracking more gold… or… or jewels… or something”

JJ smiled at how hard she tried to let herself get used to the idea.  He knew how badly she wanted to move on, and how she felt stuck in the past.  This was a significant step forward, and he was more proud of her than he let on.  He just didn’t want her to think he pitied her.

“They’re probably filthy rich by now,” JJ told her.  “She’s probably turned him full Kook”

“In a good way,” (y/n) spoke, her smile shining through her words.  “He was so…”

“Whipped” JJ muttered.

“In love,” (y/n) corrected with a soft exhale.  “They only had a week together before they… left,” She said carefully.  “And I… I’ve known John B my whole life and he’d never looked at anyone the way he looked at Sarah”

From where her head laid on his chest, JJ couldn’t see well, but he just knew that she was smiling as she spoke, reminiscing in the good memories.

“So you think they got married when they got to Florida?” JJ asked, speaking it like it was a truth.

“Yeah, I think they just might have,” (y/n) said.  She thought for a moment, and then let out a small giggle.

He was surprised by the sound, especially when it erupted into more joyous laughter.

“You know,” She ponders aloud, “I think that when they got wherever they were headed, and realized they were safe and alive, he proposed to her right then”

“Yeah?” JJ asked, amused, and revelling in the sound of her laughter.  

He had missed the sound so much, he’d worried he’d never hear it again.  He closed his eyes as he listened to her soft giggles, and melted at the way her back slightly shook against his chest.

“Yeah,” (y/n) confirmed, and one of her hands reached for his that lied on her stomach.  “It probably wasn’t romantic at all.  He probably didn’t even get on one knee”

“You’re so right,” JJ laughed with her.  “He probably was just like ‘we should get married’ and Sarah was like ‘oh John B, i love you!’ And-”

(y/n) burst into laughter at JJ’s high pitched impression of Sarah.  It didn’t sound like her, it didn’t even sound like any girl, but it made her belly laugh, and she sat up slightly so she could turn to look at him.

“Why are you laughing at me? That was a spot on impression” He told her.

“No, it wasn’t,” (y/n) said, shaking her head as she looked down at him.

There were crinkles at her eyes and her lips were pulled into the widest smile he’d seen from her in months.

He had convinced himself that he wasn’t 100% sure what love felt like, but right now it felt like his heart might just burst because of it.

He hadn’t just missed her laugh.  He’d missed her.

“It’s almost like you have no idea what a woman sounds like- but Jay, you’ve been living with one for like three years now- what?” (y/n) had cut herself off from her teasing when she saw the way he was staring at her.

He looked sad, but he was smiling, so she didn’t know what to think.  Usually she could read him pretty well, but she’d never seen this look before.

“What?” She asked again.  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason, I just…”

JJ sits up, trying to find the right words as he instinctively grabs a hold of her.  She turns to face him again, her legs hooking behind him as she waits for him to continue.

“I’m just thinking” He finishes.

“Well that’s dangerous,” She replies, the banter coming as naturally as it used to.  She lets out a little snort of a laugh as she smiles at him.  “What about?”

JJ’s hands smooth around her hips, the way they did earlier when they’d gotten the call from Officer Thomas himself, but now it wasn’t to comfort, it was simply because he could.

“You ever think about what would have happened if we never went on that treasure hunt?” He asked, quietly, like he was trying not to upset her.

She goes still, but she doesn’t push him away, and she doesn’t choke up.

“All the time” She murmurs back.

Her voice comes out through a quiet exhale, and if he wasn’t so close, he might not have heard it.  But in the last three months his ears had been practically trained to hear her every breath, and catch on to every mumble.

“Really?” He asked, and she nodded, her bottom lip tucking in between her teeth as she looked back at him.

“Of course,” She quietly replied.  “How else do you think I keep sane during all the quiet moments?”

It’s a sweet thing to say, paired with a soft smile that JJ felt relieved to see.

“Well then what do you think we’d be doing right now?”

“Something stupid,” She answered right away, followed by a small laugh.  “Something sketchy.  That’s all we ever did”

“We fished too, fishing’s legal.  And surfing, that’s legal too”

“That’s fair,” (y/n) hummed.  “Kie and Sarah would’ve gotten along better,” She added.  “It would’ve been nice to have a girls day”

“I’ll have a girls day with you” JJ told her, making her laugh again.

“I know you would,” She said, setting her hands on his shoulders.  “But it’s not the same”

JJ shrugged.

“You can braid my hair and put makeup on me, what else do you do on a girls day?” He asked, and again, she giggled.

He hoped he could keep making her laugh.

“What do you think we’d be up to?” She asked once the laughter subsided and she was left staring into those baby blue eyes again.

“Macking”

The laughter bubbled back over, her hands swatting at his shoulders as she threw her head back.

“Well you don’t have to laugh that much,” JJ said, brows furrowed as he pouted.  “It’s true, we would be”

“Maybe,” (y/n) corrected.  “If you’d ever actually made a move, maybe”

“What do you mean ever actually made a move?” He asked, offended.  “I maed plenty of moves! Lots and lots of moves”

“Oh really?” (y/n) asked, quirking an eyebrow.  “I don’t think we’re remembering it the same way, because I only seem to remember you scaring other boys away from me...”

“Well, yeah, among other things,” JJ said, shrugging casually.  “Can’t have a bunch of lame Tourons crowding my girl”

She laughed at his idea of flirting, but she knew fully well that it had always worked.  JJ Maybank was charming in his own unique way, and even now it made her melt in his hands.

“So you’re saying that eventually you would have done something about it?”

“About it?”

“Yeah, you know, whatever was… between us,” (y/n) clarified, her finger twirling around the space between them.  “I have a hard time believing you would have asked me out”

“I would have!” JJ said, pretending to take offense at her accusation.  “Eventually”

“Mhm,” She hummed, and then shook her head.  “Well, we’ll never know now,” She sighed, dropping her hands to her lap as she started to fiddle.  “I think we skipped a couple steps”

“I think we skipped all the steps, sweetheart,” JJ chuckled, taking her hands so she would stop fidgeting.  “But that’s alright, I wouldn’t take it any other way.  You’d be the only one for me no matter what happens,”

Her face turns a rosy shade of pink, which brings JJ to kiss both of her cheeks with a proud grin.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked.  “Have the what are we conversation”

Surprisingly, (y/n) shrugs and shakes her head.

“I mean, I don’t think we really have to, do you?” She asks softly.  “If there’s no one else for you, and no one else for me…” She trails off, her eyes flickering in between his.  “I think it’s pretty clear to me”

“Yeah,” JJ agrees, nodding his head.  “Pretty clear,” He repeats.  “I just hope you know what you’re getting into” He teases.

She giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck as she leaned in closer.

“I’ve lived with you for quite some time now, I think I know exactly what I’m getting into”

There’s a beat that passes between them, a quiet, contemplative beat.

But then (y/n’s) shaking her head, and she’s smiling at him so brightly that it’s contagious.

And then she leans over just a little bit, just enough to tenderly press her lips against his.

He’s quick to react, his hands reaching up to her face, pulling her impossibly closer to him.

She’s so slow and careful with her movements, and JJ thinks it might have been the softest kiss he’s ever been given.  Her lips are warm, inviting, and he begins to kick himself for not making a proper move on her back when everything wasn’t so heavy.

They pull away, their grins equally wide, and (y/n) leans her forehead into his, her eyes still shut.  JJ stares at her, awestruck, admiring every curve and freckle on her face.

His hands fall to her waist again, and he pulls her down onto the couch with him, allowing her to tuck herself in against his side as they lay comfortably.

They talk for a long time, theorizing on where they’d be now in another life, and what Sarah and John B are up to, wherever they are.  There’s a few tears that JJ has to wipe from the girl’s cheeks, but she’s smiling.

She has hope, for the first time in months, she’s filled with hope and love and deep down she truly believes things will get better.

Even if the day started with the Sheriff’s Department calling to let them know that John B and Sarah Cameron are officially and legally declared dead, since they’d been missing for three months.

It might get worse before it gets better.  But it was bound to get better. ___

[ i stay up all night, tell myself i’m alright // baby you’re just harder to see than most ]

February 19th, 2:45 p.m (Six Months After The Disappearance of John B Routledge and Sarah Cameron)

“I’m not sayin’ that I will key their cars,” JJ argues, “I’m just saying that I would!”

Pope and Kiara burst into fits of laughter, knowing full well that JJ would bust up Kook property at any given chance, even unprovoked.

(y/n) rolled her eyes from next to him, patting his arm gently.

“Sure, Jay, sure” She says, completely unconvinced.

Normally he’d continue to argue that he was just making a joke, but no one would believe him, and truth be told, he wouldn’t even believe himself.

They’d all gotten together today to hang out and eat lunch at The Wreck.  It was one of Kiara’s off days, so for once she actually got to sit at the table with her friends.  It was a nice afternoon, and definitely much needed quality time.

“You want more water?” (y/n) hummed, already picking up her and JJ’s empty glasses.

“Sure, thanks,” He answered with a charming smile while she got up.  “Oh, but wait” He called, reaching out for her arm before she could walk away.

“What?”

He tugged on her arm so she would bend over and he could swiftly kiss her cheek.  She giggled, swatting gently at his bicep, but nonetheless she blushed as she headed off to the counter.

Kiara and Pope each made their faces at JJ.  Winks, wiggling eyebrows, wide eyes, smirks, they couldn’t help it.

“Shut up, both of you” JJ chuckled before they could even say anything.

“We didn’t say anything” Pope grumbled.

“It’s just about time, that’s all,” Kiara said, putting her hands up in surrender.  “You two have been dancing that dance for years”

JJ didn’t say anything, just smiled as he poked around his plate of fries.

“Look at him, he’s so in love with her” Kiara cooed.

But Pope wasn’t looking at him at all, he’d turned in his seat when he’d caught sight of Rafe Cameron eyeing (y/n).  He’d known it wasn’t a good sign.

“Pope,” Kiara called, trying to get his attention, but realized his gaze was focused elsewhere.  “What are you…” She trailed off, turning to follow his line of sight.

She only groaned at the sight of Rafe, before turning back to their own table.  Kooks came to The Wreck on occasion, but not usually Kooks like Rafe Cameron and Topper Thornton, who were in a booth across the restaurant.

“What’s he doing?” Pope mumbled, now watching Rafe get up from his booth, and make his way to the counter, where (y/n) was chatting with one of the servers.

JJ started to get up, but Pope was quick to put a hand up.

“Wait, doesn’t start anything,” He warned, and for some reason, JJ listened to him.  ���(y/n) was friends with Sarah”

“That guy’s a fucking prick- and a murderer-” JJ started to argue, but Pope hushed him, telling him to keep his voice down.

“Just wait a minute before you swoop in there and make a scene,” Pope said.  “He’s Sarah’s brother, Sarah was a good person”

JJ muttered a string of profanities, but sat back down in his seat.  He didn’t take his eyes away from the counter though.

“(y/n) (y/l/n),” Rafe called, letting out a low whistle that made JJ bristle.  “Long time no see”

(y/n) barely looked at him before shooting her gaze down to the cups of water.  JJ can tell that she’s playing with the ring on her thumb.

“Yeah, I haven’t really been… around” She’d answered.

“Why doesn’t he just say his piece and leave” JJ muttered, both of his hands in his lap, curling into tight fists.

“That’s too bad” Rafe responded.

(y/n) wasn’t giving him any of her attention, so JJ knew he shouldn’t be so upset right now.  But he didn’t trust Rafe for as far as he could throw him, and he definitely didn’t trust him around (y/n).

“She can hold her own” Pope reminded him, knowing that JJ was starting to see red.

Yeah, but he’s a creep, he thought to himself.

“I’m sorry about Sarah,”

(y/n) spoke suddenly, soft and sweet, displaying nothing but kindness to a boy she knew wouldn’t know what kindness felt like if someone handed it right to him.

“I didn’t get to know her as well as I would have liked, but… I did like her a lot.  She was definitely a special-”

Rafe cut her off before she could say anything more.

“Well, you move on fast, don’t you?” He snarled.

(y/n) blinked, eyes going wide at the rude comment, even if she didn’t understand it.

“What-?”

“Your Pogue boyfriend’s only dead for a few months and you’ve already latched onto another, huh?” He asked, gesturing towards JJ.

(y/n’s) eyes wandered over to her boyfriend, who had just stood up from his seat with such force it fell backwards, and was now making his way over.

Please don’t get in a fight, she begged silently.  Please don’t make a scene, this isn’t worth the attention of the whole restaurant.

“Rafe, you’ve got it all wrong,” She told him quietly, trying to diffuse the situation herself.  “John B wasn’t my boyfriend, we grew up together, he was a brother to me-”

“You’re disgusting,” Rafe spat at her.  “If it wasn’t for your Pogue friends and your Pogue slut self, Sarah wouldn’t be dead right now!”

It felt like (y/n’s) heart stopped at the cruel accusation, and for a moment, she thought she might burst into tears in front of him.

“She’s not dead” She mumbled, her throat going tight.

JJ was at her side in a second, his arm winding around her hips and pulling her into him, about to drag her away without a word to Rafe.  He knew she didn’t want him to act out, and as hard as it was, he didn’t want to let her down.

He prompted her to follow him back to the table, forgetting about the water on the counter, he just wanted to get her out of this restaurant as fast as possible

“She is dead, they’re both dead because of you!” Rafe called after her, desperate to get the last word in.

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up?” JJ hollered back, throwing the Kook a threatening look over his shoulder.

“That’s fine sweetheart!” Rafe shouted, and (y/n) tried her best to block him out.  “Let your shiny new toy fight your fights for you! Just like John B did.  Do all the Pogues you fuck become your guard dog?”

That was it.

Any chance of her crying went out the window and next thing she knew, she was ripping herself out of JJ’s hold and lunging towards Rafe, swinging without any aim, but enough force that when she hit the Kook in the nose, she could feel the crunch of cartilage against her knuckles, and blood splattered onto the counter.

“You bitch-!”

Rafe barely had a chance to fight back before JJ was grabbing (y/n) by the waist, lifting her up and physically carrying her out of The Wreck.  Pope and Kiara hastily followed them out, laughing joyously.

“Are you crazy?” JJ asked, only setting her down once they were down the street, and they were certain that a group of Kooks wouldn’t follow after them to finish what (y/n) had started.

She was still scowling, and rubbing at her jaw where Rafe had just barely nicked her with his knuckles.

“Fuck,” JJ grinned at her, taking her by surprise.  “You are crazy”

“You’re not mad?” She asked, and all three of her friends laughed.

“Mad? Of course not, you just broke Rafe Cameron’s nose, baby!” JJ cheered, cupping her face in his hands and pressing a quick kiss to her lips, and then her nose, and then her cheek.  “That’s my girl!”

The whooping and hollering of her boyfriend, echoed by Pope and Kie, made her blush red and butterflies erupt in her chest.  Breaking a Kook’s nose was a strange thing to feel bashful about, but the attention made her shy.

“Come on, let’s get home and ice that before it bruises” JJ said, nodding to her jaw.

As they made their way to the Chateau, their hands latched and swinging between them, JJ continued to gush over how badass and amazing she was, no matter how much she laughed it off and begged him to stop making her blush. ___

[ every night i’m dancing with your ghost ]

February 19th, 3:15 p.m

“You’re lucky I pulled you outta there before he landed a whole punch,” JJ told (y/n) as he pressed a bag of frozen peas against her jaw.  “This coulda hurt a lot worse, why didn’t you duck babe?”

(y/n) let out a huff, swinging her legs from where she sat on the kitchen counter.  JJ was standing between them, coddling her much more than necessary.

“I dunno, I’m not some pro fighter like you” She retorted, and hissed when he pressed a little too hard against the sensitive skin.

“I know that was supposed to be sarcastic, but I’m gonna take it as a compliment anyways,” JJ retorted, earning a good natured eye roll from the girl.  “You know I’m proud of you, right?”

“I know,” She giggled back.  “You haven’t shut up about it”

“Can’t help it, it was fuckin’ awesome,” JJ gushed again.  “It was so hot, the most perfect punch, I wish I coulda taken a picture of the look on Rafe’s face, priceless.  You’re such a badass, I fucking love you”

He didn’t seem to catch what he’d said, but (y/n) did.  

Her eyes blew wide, and her lips parted momentarily, at a loss for words.  And since she didn’t know what to say, she decided the next best thing was to lean forward and capture his lips in a passionate kiss.

The kiss took JJ by surprise at first, but then the realization of what he’d said hit him, and he pulled away from her abruptly.

“Oh my god, I didn’t mean- well I did, but I-”

“JJ,” (y/n) giggled as he rambled, her hands laying across his cheeks.  “It’s okay, I-”

They were cut off by the phone ringing, which was odd, because it wasn’t their cellphone’s ringtone.  It took a second to even realize that the Chateau had a landline.

“What the fuck?” (y/n) pushed the bag of peas JJ was still holding away from her face, and hopped off the counter.  “Who even has this number? Oh my god, do you think it’s Thomas again?”

(y/n’s) heart began to race as she darted out of the kitchen towards the phone hanging on the wall.

“(y/n/n)- do you want me to take it?” JJ asked, worried that she’d freak herself out too much to actually answer the phone.

But she’d already unhooked the phone from the wall.

“Routledge Residence, (y/n) speaking”

There was a chuckle on the other side of the line, followed by a teasing, “I just knew that you weren’t gonna move out”

JJ couldn’t hear what the caller had said, but from the look on (y/n’s) face, he knew it couldn’t have been a telemarketer.

She dropped to her knees, the cord on the phone uncoiling completely as it stretched all the way down.  A choked sound between a sob and a gasp escaped her, and in a second, JJ was kneeling in front of her, jumping right into panic attack mode.

“(y/n/n), what is it? Who is it?”

“JJ there too? How are you guys-”

“John B?” (y/n) mumbled, voice shaky, scared that this was some practical joke at her expense.

JJ’s eyes went wide, and she finally looked up at him, his jaw slack.

“The one and only,” He laughed again.  “Guess I’m lucky you were at the house, I don’t remember any other phone numbers”

“I can’t believe it- are you okay? Is Sarah okay? Holy shit, John-”

“We’re okay, we’re both okay,” He chuckled, cutting her off.  “You’re not gonna believe this… but… we’ve got it”

“You’ve got it?” She repeated, confused.

“The gold, (y/n), we’ve got the gold”

“No shit-”

“Sarah says hi by the way,” He added.  “We’ll be back as soon as we can with it, okay? I don’t know when, but we’re working on it”

“What’s he saying?” JJ asked, but (y/n’s) brain was in a clusterfuck of information.

“I miss you- well all miss you- we miss you so much” She stammered out.

“We miss you too, (y/n)!” Sarah called, sounding distant through the speaker.

“We miss you a lot,” John B added,  “I’m sorry we didn’t call earlier, we just had to be sure there way it could get tracked-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I forgive you,” (y/n) said through a watery laugh.  “Just- just be safe, and get back as soon as you can, okay?”

“We will, promise,” John B replied.  “And I’ll try to call more too, okay? Look we’re… we’re working it all out right now”

“Okay, good,” (y/n) sighed, and wiped her teary cheeks with the back of her hand.  “I can’t wait to see you both”

“And when you do, we’ll be millions of dollars richer,” He told her.  “Look, we have to get going, Sarah has work.  The Kook Princess has a job here!” He told her with a laugh.  “I’ll call you when I can, alright?”

“Alright,” She agreed.  “Okay, call soon”

“Stay safe, (y/n/n), talk to you soon”

“Bye, John B”

He hung up, leaving the phone to ring a low dull sound, and (y/n) and JJ to stare at each other in amazement.

“They have the gold” (y/n) mumbled out.

“For real?”

“For real,” She nods back at him.  “They’re working on a plan to come home-”

Before she can finish, he tackles her to the ground, hugging her tight, and just letting the phone hang by it’s cord.  They’re laughing, she’s crying, and they can’t remember the last time they’ve felt joy like this before.

(y/n) sits up slightly, enough to wrap her arms around him and kiss him chastely.

“They’re in the Bahamas, and Sarah has a job, and- and they’re gonna come home” She rambled on as tears streamed down her face faster than JJ could wipe them away.

He’s grinning at her, kissing her whole face, everywhere he could.

She starts to giggle from the kisses, her shoulders raising from the ticklish feeling.

“JJ- JJ!” She cried out, having to grab him by his shoulders to get him to chill out.  “We have to go tell Pope and Kie!” “Okay, come on, let’s get going, I’ll drive you there now” JJ said, pulling her up to her feet, but before racing for the door, he wrapped his arms around her and spun her around in the air.

“I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it!” (y/n) cried out, giggling when he finally set her back down, and grabbed her hand before dashing for the front door.  “We’re going out tonight, baby!” She was so ecstatic, her body was practically vibrating.

He laughed, grabbing the keys to his dirtbike from the counter.

“Wait wait wait, JJ!” (y/n) called, her grip tightening on his hand as she pulled him back towards her.

“What? What is it?” He asked in a hurry, his eyes wild as he looked back at her.

She just grinned at him, before pulling him in closer, and leaning up on the tips of her toes so she could kiss him.

She could feel his tenseness fade away, and when she smiled it broke their kiss.

“I love you too,” She told him, her smile brightening before she reached up and stole another kiss.  “And I’m glad you’re here with me, always”

“Well, we do live together, sweetheart,” He teased.  “But you know I’d never go anywhere else”

“I know,” She hummed, and leaned in to kiss him one more time.  “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, quit trying to distract me!”

(y/n) laughed as she followed him out the door, an overwhelming amount of delight flooding through her as she got on the back of JJ’s bike, rehearsing in her head what she wanted to say to their friends, and how impatient she was to see John B again.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

The Glitch

I get the Broken Reality au is a haha funny joke but there’s been some legit great art for it and since Butterfly is over and I haven’t gotten into the groove of my other projects yet, I decided to try some flash fiction of my interpretations. Note that this is very small and informal; I used whatever idea came into my head over the course of an hour or so instead of the weeks of planning that go into my usual fics. This was an experiment for fun. But if people enjoy the concept, I may be tempted to expand on it.

Credit to @lollitree @moonpaw @gentrychild​ @owlf45​ and @cyber-phobia​ (I’m sorry if I missed someone I lost track of how many people were involved in this mess).

Content working for reference to infant death.

Please enjoy!

The city shut down for a typhoon warning.  Thunder rumbled in the distance.  Dark clouds blocked the sun so much that by mid-morning it still looked like it never bothered coming up.  And yet the humidity made it too hot for coffee.  Inko didn’t know how to feel.  Work would have been a good distraction.  But she didn’t want any coworkers or clients to see if today got to be too much.  And it was already shaping up to be.  She caught herself making two plates of food for breakfast.  

Inko sat alone in the kitchen.  She couldn’t bring herself to finish her own plate.  Sickness set in fast.  The food had been cold for a long time before she summoned the strength to get up and throw it away.  Then she stood over the open trash can a while, debating whether to try and hold it together, or just throw up and get it over with.  She eventually managed to keep her stomach steady enough to go back to her bedroom.  There was another trashcan in there anyway.

A sound stopped her.  From her office.  The distinct sound of something heavy falling onto the carpet.  Right as she walked past the door.

Please not this again…

She opened the door with her eyes closed.  Her mind conjured a familiar image.  A bedroom full of books and hero posters.  Bright colors and personal touches.  A child’s room.  Inko opened her eyes to her drab home office.  Some of the older case file binders slipped off the pile again.  She really needed to sort those into storage. Not today though.  She didn’t bother to pick it up.

Inko walked faster than normal the rest of the way to her room.  She doesn’t want to face the temptation to search for old toys she remembers storing in the empty closet.  Or search the walls for scuff marks from action figures tossed into them she could always see even after the walls were painted. She hid her planner on a tall shelf and put the ladder away to make it that much harder to go through it over and over looking for doctors’ appointments and school events she knew were coming up.  Finally reaching her bed brought no comfort.

Of course she knew today’s date by heart.  She hadn’t put it on a calendar in the fourteen years since she used to look at it every day.  Inko stuck her head under her pillows, as if they could block out the silent noise of her memories.  Memories of before, the time even when she was by herself, she was never alone.

Fifteen years now, today.  With a shuddering gasp, the tears finally came.  Thunder crashed outside.  It’s not fair!  Why is it still this hard after this long?  Phantom kicks in her belly joined the growing ice there.

The hardest part was she still felt like that sometimes.  Like she wasn’t really alone.  Inko didn’t believe in ghosts, but the lost of what could have been was more than haunting enough.  She felt it watching her.  Judging her. Waiting just long enough for her to settle down into a peaceful, content existence before it reared up to plague her heart all over again.  Cliché hauntings like spooky faces in the mirror or blood coming out of the drains would have been preferable.  Those would be generic enough not to remind her directly.

Rain started outside.  Her phone lit up with a notification she ignored in time with a thunderclap.  The storm was getting closer.

Maybe I should call Hisashi, the thought crossed her mind.  Maybe he’s going through this too.  She bit her lip bloody.  Her frustrated memories weren’t in question like the others.  Probably not though.  I don’t want to talk to him anyway.

Hisashi had been stuck in the denial stage of grief, which often came off as him acting like he didn’t take hers seriously.  Not a year, not even half a year looking back, after they came home from the hospital, he wanted to try again.  

“We can’t let mourning hold us up forever,” he said.  “And it’s not like we lost a once in a lifetime opportunity!  We’ve got at least another twenty years to keep trying!”

But we did lose him! she had wanted to scream.  Still did, years later.  Why didn’t he understand?  He was your loss too!  Inko wanted for the next roll of thunder, then shouted.  

“I don’t just want any baby!  I want Izuku!”

The lights went out.  The temperature rose five degrees instantly when the ceiling fan stopped going.  The rain stopped.

Power outage.  Inko sat up with a sniffle.  Turns out the notification was a warning about roving blackouts.  Of course.  Oh well. I wasn’t really in the mood to cook tonight any-

Thunder boomed even louder than before, making her jump.  Then another.  Lightning flashed outside at the same time.  It was right on top of her.

What?  I thought the typhoon wasn’t supposed to make landfall until later toni-

Another crash.  It vibrated through her bones.  Then another. The lightning lit up her whole room. Except for a shadow on the wall. Inko jolted to look, holding her breath, and found only her own shadow in the next flash.

“I’m such an idiot…”  She went for her phone again.  For peace of mind, she decided to use her data to check if an evacuation order went out. Or any updates at all really, since the weather came so much faster than the news said.  “Nothing,” she sighed annoyed.  “I hate being alone for weather like this…”

A new notification pinged.

[Mom]

Inko blinked rapidly.  The message remained.  All of her insides turned inside out in an instant, and she started crying again. Was this someone’s idea of a sick joke? No one ever got a chance to call her that.  She touched the note to open it, but nothing happened.  No app or source was displayed.  Nor did it go away after a few seconds like normal.  

“Wha- What’s going on?” she wept.  In a mix of sorrow and rage, she wound up to chunk the device across the room.  But she froze.

Outside her window, floating against the pitch-black sky, were two small orbs.  Perfectly circular and glowing.  Watching her. She didn’t dare move.  

Another ping.  She looked without moving.

[I’m sorry]

“…  What?”

For a moment, all the sounds in the world dropped out.  They all came back at ounce.

Lights flickered.  Both the ones inside and the lightning going outside.  Multiple strikes laid on top of one another.  No relief.  Thunder pounded over and over like a drum solo.  It shook the whole building.  Inko ran into the closet away from the window.  She slammed her hands over her eyes but it didn’t help.  Her terrified cried were whispers to the screams of the storm.

A child’s scream.  She heard it. Each flash of light came with a cry. The distinct sound of a little boy calling out in pain blended with unyielding nature.  It came from every direction.  Every hair on Inko’s arms stood up in fear.  She felt the charge in the air.  But she had to go out.  Her baby was crying for help.

She burst from the closet into the living room.  All the lights and appliances turned themselves on and off.  The TV showed only static between its flashes. Something drew her too it.  The storm was deafening.  It pounded through her head like a heartbeat.  The beats got faster.  The static flashes started to look like a face.  Her usual caution was abandoned as she fell to her knees and touched the screen.  The snow cleared for a single instant.  Just long enough to look like the blank eyes from the window.  She felt the heartbeat there too.

Then it stopped.  All of it. The noise and lights all went quiet and dark.  The TV went completely cold in an instant.  Inko, stunned, palmed over it looking for something.  Anything.  The pulse. Warmth.  A burnt fuse or faulty wire.  But nothing.  The rain started again.

She pulled her hands back to her lap.  Her heart was still racing and tears kept flowing down under her chin. She looked around.  Everything in the living room and kitchen looked the same. No sign of the earthquake-like convolutions the whole appartement experienced only minutes ago.  Inko combed the entire space for evidence.  An object knocked off the shelf.  A picture frame fallen from the wall.  The notifications.  Toys in the closet or scuffs in the wall.  Still not a sign.  She even stepped outside her door to check the sky.  Only light rain and shattered thunder, just like the news said the day before.

There was only one thing out of place.  Back in her bedroom, the bottom drawer of her nightstand hung open.  Inko had to steal herself before approaching it. There were only two things in there: a little green blanket, and a picture of the ultrasound.  The most recent one from her last appointment. The doctor said he was doing fine.

“Izuku…” she whispered to it in her hand.

She remembered the squealing little bundling being put in her arms for the first time.  The first time he smiled at her.  Teaching him to walk, then immediately launching into play.  Him coming home with bruises and scrapes after the kids at school were mean to him, and crying in her arms.  Then, him coming home with his first real friends in a long time. She made them all dinner. Katsudon.  That was Izuku’s favorite.

Only she didn’t remember.  The same way she didn’t really remember the toys and scuffs.  Those were fantasies.  Daydreams of what could have been.  She just thought about them so often they felt like memories. Especially today.  It was his birthday after all.  They’d fade back into vague dreams by tomorrow.  They always did.  

And she would be left with reality.  The silence.  The cold, still little hand between her fingers.  Soft cheeks without blush.  Eyes that never opened.  Clutching him too tight to her chest, knowing the second she let go he would be gone for real and it would all be over.  

But it was never over.  Inko went through this same torturous song and dance every year for fifteen now.  All the guilt and dread would subside slowly over the next one, until it all came back at once.  Just like this.

At least it’s done for now, she tried to reassure herself, climbing back into bed. It still wasn’t even noon yet.  Plenty of time for another breakdown.  Hopefully the next one won’t be, feel, as loud.  She sighed heavily into her sheets.  This sort of thing can’t be normal.  I should really try therapy again.

Against her better judgement, she kept the blanket out, and clutched it to her chest.  Static electricity pricked her fingers.  With her other hand, she reached across the bed, and tried to imagine someone else there. Not Hisashi, never him anymore.  Izuku.  He was fifteen and happy, but the storm was making him nervous so he came to lay beside her.  She remembered it like it was now.  If she closed her eyes, she could feel his warm, soft skin, with a healthy, if a little anxious heartbeat just underneath.  The mattress warped as he sighed.

“We’ll be okay.  It’s just a little rough weather,” she promised.

“Okay, Mom,” Izuku answered quietly.  “…  I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”  I’ll start trying to get myself together tomorrow.  For now, let me have this.

Izuku didn’t respond for a while.  “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.  Happy birthday.”

[barbenheimer-core]

AUDERE EST FACERE !

하나. chanel : part four — 3k words

Wangja crossed the street with a bag of two steaming bowls of ramyeon and red ginseng, speeding up his pace to prevent the noodles from getting too soggy while he walked the path over to his shop where he had left Ahyeong at, sighing as he thought about the new addition to the cast.

When he had walked into his store last night, he was not expecting a stage to commence immediately upon entering the lounge.

Thank the writer (this was the first and last time he was going to say that) that their conversation and actions had already been written out, or else the shop owner would've been gawking at the new girl for the entirety of the stage.

He had been immensely startled back then; it was unusual for him to not know the timing and plot of every stage because he always made sure to check the comic that permanently resided in a small, hidden corner of his shop every single day.

But when he had browsed the comic as soon as Ahyeong had left, he had been bewildered at the sudden shift in the book's contents.

The cast page had been altered to feature four main characters instead of the original trio, and as he had turned the pages, he had noticed the new stages being inked with interactions that had never been present as of before.

To think that an already complicated web of troubling relationships had not been enough for the writer, they had proceeded to add a love square to the mix.

Wangja grimaced at his creator's choices in life. They had definitely been influenced by someone to do so if it had been so last minute.

But one thing was for sure; out of all the stories that the writer had put him in, this was by far the most interesting.

"Ahyeong-ah! I'm back!" he yelled into the air as he stepped in, his voice echoing in the shop.

The silence was his only response.

Confused, he stepped through the streamers that decorated the lounge's archway, eyes searching for the girl while he set the food down on the coffee table next to the abandoned copy of Shiver.

"Ahyeong, are you here-"

He stopped abruptly, gaze finding the peach cover of True Beauty toppled upside down on the floor in front of a shelf he swore no one would notice.

With dread in his mind, he picked it up, turning it around, only to be faced by the drawn version of the person he was looking for.

Oh no. She'd seen it.

If Gilyeong had to describe his sister at that moment, he would've said she looked like she'd risen from a grave in a zombie apocalypse movie.

She looked dead. Alive, yes, but dead.

Like someone had told her whole life was a lie.

When Ahyeong had arrived back home from wherever she had dashed off to during the morning, she had looked like she'd gone through the five stages of grief, questioned the meaning of life, and ran a marathon through the streets of Seoul by how hard she was breathing.

He had almost asked her if she was okay, but that would've come off as him being "concerned for his dear sister," as Eunjung had so uselessly put it, and he hated proving people right. And besides, Ahyeong was clearly not okay.

"Oye, grinch," he called out across the table after seeing her actions.

She looked as if she hadn't even heard him. No annoyed flinch, no irritated twitching of her eyebrow; no reaction at all. Just her mindlessly trying to eat soup with chopsticks.

Eunjung looked at her with an extreme amount of concern.

Gilyeong almost puked at the feeling of worry in his gut.

Ahyeong was functioning on auto-pilot, her consciousness having taken a backseat as the only thing that moved her was sheer muscle memory.

She couldn't even remember how she had come back to her house, however, the stinging in her legs informed her of how she had deserted the shop and ran all the way back home, much to Driver Kwon's horror.

Her head felt empty.

Being in a comic? As a bully? That had to be the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard, or read, about herself.

It did not make sense. She was quite literally a model student, with a record as clean as glass. Being reduced to the likes of a bully? Impossible.

And then the derealisation came in.

This probably wasn't real after all. Maybe it was just one big practical joke blown out of proportion.

Yeah, that was it, she concluded as she finally became aware of her surroundings, dropping the chopsticks in her hands with a confused look and picking up a spoon to continue eating her soup, unaware of the small breath of relief from across the table.

That weird paralysis thing hadn't happened since the other day anyway, so she was probably going to be okay.

TURN.

What a fucking lie, you're kidding—

The doors to the house banged open, harshly knocking against the walls and startling the occupants of the dining room.

Song Hwayoung came inside the house, immediately making Eunjung receive her in a hurry and assist her with taking off her coat and setting her a pair of slippers.

Ahyeong was panicking. Why now? The universe was being unnecessarily cruel. Her body felt like a rock, cemented into the ground. The air got colder, the lights felt different, brighter somehow, as if someone was shining a spotlight down on her family, as if a grim situation was about to ensue.

Ahyeong almost got up to greet her mother, but sat back down after seeing the subtle shake of Gilyeong's head, who hastily looked down at his empty plate after Hwayoung came to sit at the head of the table.

Her mother looked like she had been trying to bottle up her anger the whole day, and the cap was finally about to burst.

Ahyeong felt unsettled at the sudden change in demeanor. Her mother had never gotten this furious before, ever. She attempted to stand, but she was glued to her seat and could only watch as Hwayoung glared daggers at Gilyeong.

She threw a stack of papers in front of Gilyeong, who shrunk into his seat when he saw its contents.

"What is this?" Hwayoung inquired, trying her best to appear calm.

The young boy mumbled a reply in a voice so small that it was barely audible.

Hwayoung flared her nostrils, "Say it louder!"

Both siblings flinched at the volume. "My report card," the youngest said shakily.

Why was her mum flipping over a simple report card? It's not like grades mattered—

"Even I know that it's a fucking report card. What I want to know is why your grades dropped to C's and D's and why the hell you're failing in math?"

Ahyeong's eyes widened, either involuntarily or of her own free will, she didn't know. Hwayoung cursing at her brother and raging over his academic report? That was quite literally the opposite of how her mother was. Hwayoung was supposed to be the sweetest person she'd ever known, understanding and supportive through every endeavor.

For a moment she considered if her mother had been replaced by a clone of a crueler version of her. With the bullshit that was happening to her right now, the theory did not even feel that far-fetched.

At Gilyeong's silence, Hwayoung scoffed, "All of this was happening and you didn't even bother telling me? I was in a phone call with your friend's mother who told me her son had scored first place but when she mentioned how you weren't even in the top ten do you know how humiliated I felt?"

She stood up abruptly, throwing her chair back, which was immediately caught by Eunjung, and scowled at the boy, not a single trace of warmth in her eyes that her daughter was familiar with, "What an embarrassment to the Song name. At least your sister fares better than you."

With that, she stalked away, heels clicking against the marble floors as she retreated to her room.

TURN .

Ahyeong got up as soon as she could control her movements, rushing over to Gilyeong whose eyes had become red and puffy as he sniffled.

She pulled him in between her arms, and he shook uncontrollably, Eunjung watching the ordeal with downtrodden eyes, wishing she could help.

This was far beyond what she thought would happen. No, that woman could not have been their mother.

As she put her brother to sleep that night, she came to a solution.

Stepping into the elevator to reach Cloud9 Officetel's terrace the next day, her resolve strengthened.

This nightmare was ending, one way or the other.

Jugyeong was quite possibly living the worst nightmare she'd ever had.

The world was too cruel. Beauty was only on the inside, they said. What a horrible lie.

She had been humiliated beyond measure. All she tried to do was convey her honest feelings to quite possibly the only person who had ever been genuinely kind to her. She would've been fine if Wang Hyunbin had simply rejected her and decided to stay as friends. But for him and Semi to destroy her pride and self-worth like that? Because of how she looked?

She felt her eyes burning with warm tears before they cascaded down her cheeks, the cold wind at the top of the building harshly biting at her skin and rattling her bones.

She shivered.

Cold, it was too cold. What a day to die.

Jugyeong's hands hovered over her phone's screen as she stared at her mother's contact. Would her family even mourn her? Good riddance, they would probably think.

But she had to tell someone, and even if her mother was harsh with her words, she still loved her. She had to tell her the reason why she was about to jump off of a building.

Just as her finger leaned down to press the call button, the door to the rooftop opened, and Jugyeong jumped in shock, turning around to see who had come in.

She did a double-take.

Was God personally consenting to her taking her own life? Because she was pretty sure he had sent down an angel to escort her soul into heaven.

Her glasses had been abandoned on the bench she'd been sitting on from when she had been trying to wipe her tears, so she couldn't really see the person properly, but even with bad eyesight, the stranger looked almost ethereal.

They were dressed in a black dress and heels, as if they had gone to a funeral, or were planning to go to one.

They stopped upon seeing Jugyeong's disheveled self.

Was God finally being kind to her in her final moments?

Mind in a haze and not thinking straight, Jugyeong broke down yet again.

Ahyeong was startled at the girl crying in front of her. She didn't think there was going to be someone else up there other than herself.

When she looked closer at the girl who was sobbing uncontrollably in front of her, she noticed who it was, immediately taking a few steps back on instinct.

Moon Gayoung? Why was she in a school uniform— oh.

You've got to be kidding me.

What luck she had, walking right into the girl this world literally revolved around.

She felt something pulling away at her in the back of her mind, sending warning bells down her spine, saying she wasn't supposed to be there. But why?

Ahyeong's heart almost burst out of her ribcage when Jugyeong threw herself at her, clutching almost painfully at her waist and sobbing into her dress.

She froze at the sudden contact, arms awkwardly hovering over the girl's shoulders.

Jugyeong had probably not recognized her yet, because there was no way she was hugging her future tormentor just like that.

"Th-thank y-y-you for c-coming," the girl said between choked breaths, "F-for being- for being here in my—" she struggled to say the words, "—my final moments."

Ahyeong stilled at that.

By the time her words had registered, she already knew what was happening.

This was the scene from the drama, she remembered, when Jugyeong had tried to kill herself because of the incident at school.

How ironic. Ahyeong almost laughed at her situation, they were here for the same fate for almost the same reason. Both didn't like the world that they lived in.

But for the Song girl, this was a test, really. A theory she came up with in the dead of the night.

The sensation of falling, that knee-jerk reaction, and the feeling of finally waking up from your dream. That was what she was hoping for. She wasn't here to die, she was here to go back to living her own life.

But the girl who clung to her was dead set on ending things, and frankly, that was a dreadful thought.

Ahyeong had no intention of leaving her as she was, be this a fictional world or not, Im Jugyeong was a human being who deserved a lot more than she got.

"Were you going to jump?"

Jugyeong's thoughts came to a halt as the Angel asked a question, the oddly familiar lilt of her voice bringing a strange mix of foreboding and warmth in her gut.

Still shaking, she only nodded against her shoulder.

"Why?"

"Because-" she sniffled, tightening her arms around them, "because everyone hates me," her voice faded at the end, and her wobbly knees gave in, making her sink into the hard floor and dragging the person along with her.

This time, the Angel wrapped her arms around her, rubbing soothing circles into her back.

"Jugyeong, things may seem horrible for you at the moment, and you have every right to be upset over what was said and done, but it is impossible to know answers to such questions when you're so overwhelmed."

The words cut through her haziness, her cries slowly stopping as what they said registered in Jugyeong's mind.

"You don't really want to die, do you?"

It felt weird, being told such things by a stranger.

Maybe deep down she had already known, but her despair had overtaken her senses and disregarded her common sense.

"Why were you really about to call your mother?"

Because she was hoping someone would stop her. To make sure someone really did care about her despite appearances.

The Angel patted her back, and slowly pulled away, only to firmly place their hands on Jugyeong's shoulders.

"Your family's waiting."

She didn't need to be told twice.

Maybe God was kinder than she thought.

It was getting dark now.

The cold evening air nipped at her skin as Ahyeong stood on the edge, heels digging into the concrete as she gazed down below.

What a hypocrite she was, telling all those things to Jugyeong.

She'd sent her home with a taxi after their ordeal, and Jugyeong had not even looked at her once through the whole thing.

She didn't know why.

The road was buzzing with activity, cars zooming past on asphalt, people walking home on the footpaths, vendors selling seasonal goods by the side.

It seemed to be a normal day.

She wondered how the rest of their day would go if her body suddenly flopped down there.

Gooseflesh rose on her arms. All of this was too real.

She slapped herself, the stinging spreading through her numb skin and making her wince in pain.

What was she doing? Was she really about to jump off a building just to test a theory out?

What if it failed? The pain in her cheek would pale in comparison to what would happen should she fall.

And the people waiting for her back home, thinking she was off paying her respects to an old friend. Gilyeong and Eunjung would be destroyed.

Ahyeong stepped back. No, she couldn't do this. She wasn't planning on dying today. Or anytime soon really.

She'd just have to get used to living here—

TURN.

Song Ahyeong stepped closer to the edge of the building, awaiting her doom.

What the fuck!? She didn't want to die, shit, shit, shit—

The LED screen behind her lit up in hues of pink and purple, colorful shadows falling on her dress that did nothing against the frigid wind.

Jung Seyeon's face graced the billboard in the distance, an ode from the people to celebrate the day he was born, and an apology for being the reason he died.

One more step and she would fall. No, no, one more step and she'd fall—

Ahyeong leaned forward closing her eyes for the last time.

NO!

And so, she fell backward.

Wait, backward?

TURN.

Ahyeong barely registered the iron grip on her wrist before it was tugged hard, her stiletto losing its balance and twisting her foot at an unnatural angle.

She widened her eyes as her vision blurred, surroundings moving too fast, and braced herself for the impact on the rough concrete.

It never came.

Instead, she fell on the person who had taken the liberty of pulling her back, and subsequently saving her. Groaning, she raised her head, squinting against the bright light of the advertisement.

"What a relief," Suho breathed out.

The ColorBeauty commercial cast the glow of its neon colors over their faces, and as the faint melody of Seyeon's voice filled the silence in the air, Song Ahyeong knew that somehow, she had fucked up.

masterlist

© 2021 Alfia Sheikh, All Rights Reserved

[xoxopandapanda]

InuKag Week 2021: Day 6

Day 6: Transformation

@inukag-week

“What are you going to do with that?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it.”

“You’ve got twig arms. I’ve got to worry about it because it’s going to become my problem soon.”

Kagome spun around, waving the screwdriver in the air at Inuyasha, her stupid friend who was judging her more harshly than he had any right to. “I’m redecorating my bedroom. Not you, so butt out already.”

Inuyasha crossed his arms and stared down at her. “Okay,” he said slowly, “you’re redecorating, but that shelf isn’t level at all, so I’ve got to fix it.”

Kagome snarked back at him. “The shelf isn’t even on the wall; I’m just putting in the screws to hold it up!”

“Sure, but those screws aren’t in a straight line. Did you even check before you started? Or are we going for an abstract, everything-is-glued-down look? Because shelves have to be level in order to work properly.”

She felt her ears begin to burn from embarrassment. She had forgotten to check. She measured from the wall, and apparently, according to his keen eyesight, had miscalculated and not had the tape measure very level. Kagome turned around and looked at the offending screws sticking out of her wall. Man, they weren’t even close to level.

She scratched the top of her head and tried to figure out what to do. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to ask Inuyasha for help, even though he clearly saw that she needed it now.

Here she thought she was a big girl who could do a room transformation all on her own without help, but it was appearing that she was very wrong about that idea.

Inuyasha was rifling through her hardware supplies, clearly trying to figure out what exactly she had at her disposal for the completion of the project. “Do you have any putty?”

Kagome looked over her shoulder at him. He had stolen one of her scrunchies and tied his hair up, clearly now feeling invested in helping her with her project. Kagome wanted to scream. She didn’t know who she was under the impression she was going to impress with redoing her whole room by herself, but here she was, annoyed that Inuyasha was now going to spend his weekend with her, fixing her mistakes.

“Any what?” She asked.

“Putty. To fill the unnecessary holes you put in the wall.”

“Uh, no.”

Inuyasha stood up and surveyed her room with a careful eye. “What exactly are you planning on doing in here?”

Kagome shrugged. “New shelves. Put up pictures. Change where the bed is. Maybe paint it a new color.”

Inuyasha looked down the hall to the living room where she had last night removed her bed, desk, and dresser to. “You could have asked me for help moving the furniture, you know. Hell. We could have roped Miroku into helping too probably.”

“I’m a big girl, Inuyasha. I can do things on my own if I want.” Kagome huffed at him.

Inuyasha looked back at her, his eyes showing how little he believed her. “You’re a pretty small girl, Kagome. There’s a reason we use you to crawl through windows when Miroku locks us out.”

“It’s a saying, stupid.”

“If anyone’s stupid here, it’s the girl who thinks painting comes after hanging shelves.”

Okay. That one stung. Kagome felt herself start to flush all over again, realizing that he was right. She was going about this all wrong. Maybe she should have completely decided what she wanted to do before she started on her project.

So, she turned the conversation back on him. “I thought you were going to be out of town this weekend.”

“I thought you were going home to spend time with your mom.”

“Plans changed.”

“Same.”

Touché. Kagome knew she wasn’t going to get anymore information out of him. She could press at him as to why he had let himself into her apartment today, but he did it so often she didn’t think anything of it.

He may have lived two buildings over, but he had known her since the beginning of high school and had never been the type to knock on doors for permission to enter.

Hell, he used the toilet while she was in the shower if he was so inclined.

“Mom had a college friend come into town, so she won’t be home. I’ll go back and visit a different time.”

Inuyasha nodded, still looking around her room.

Kagome decided to prod. “And you?”

“Saw your car didn’t leave last night so didn’t go anywhere.”

Oh. She realized he didn’t have any plans; he just didn’t want to get roped into going to visit her family too. Fair enough. Grandpa probably would have given him chores to do or Souta would want him to play a sport game with his friends. Her family was very attached to him, and as much as she knew he loved them, there was only so much he could handle.

Especially if she wasn’t available to save him.

She went back to her new weekend plans. “I wanted to do something different and I’ve been here for almost a year and haven’t hung up pictures.”

“Clearly, you’ve never hung anything up if that shelf attempt is any indication.”

Kagome scowled at him. “Are you just here to insult me?”

“No,” he shrugged. “I wanted to go out to lunch with you.”

“Oh,” Kagome put down her screwdriver. “Let me change and we can go. Ramen?”

Inuyasha nodded. “Then we’ll go to the hardware store.”

Kagome paused, inquisitively looking at him.

He walked towards the door and slid on his shoes, waiting for her to follow. “You don’t have anything you need to finish your ‘room transformation’.”

Kagome nodded meekly, realizing that he was for sure going to be helping her with her weekend project.

It turned out to be nice to have Inuyasha present to help her redo her bedroom. He was very proficient in repairs – something she was previously unaware of – and even more help with putting up a new coat of paint on her walls.

His height made it easy for him to put up level shelves, and he quickly put together the new furniture she had bought online to make better use of her space.

As Sunday evening rolled around, Kagome was thoroughly impressed with how far they had managed to come.

“The last thing to do is put the furniture back in.” Kagome looked at her fresh, new, and lovely bedroom. What a difference a coat of paint and new light fixtures made.

Inuyasha was already hauling in her dresser, making her feel guilty for leaving the heavy work to him. “Where does this go?”

Kagome pointed to the wall, and the two squabbled as he brought in the last pieces and Kagome tried to help him.

There was a lot of “You’re going to hurt yourself.”, “Stop, you’re in the way.”, and “I would like you to not please.” coming from Inuyasha.

Kagome in turn kept spitting out, “I can help too, you know!”

The bed made, the room sweet smelling from a new spring candle, and the soft evening breeze drifting through the room, Kagome flopped down and sighed from sheer happiness.

“I cannot thank you enough, Inuyasha! It is everything I wanted and then some.”

Inuyasha laid down next to her, his head to the side to look at her. “I think level shelves help the look quite a bit.”

Kagome smacked his chest with the back of her hand but couldn’t hold back the laugh at his comment. “Yeah,” she agreed, “I like not having to glue everything down on a shelf very much.”

“I would hope so. You’re strange, but not that strange.”

“Hey, just because I glued my name tag down to my desk and superglued my phone number to your backpack doesn’t mean I’m strange.”

Inuyasha cocked an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure it does.”

Kagome rolled her eyes and sat up, lifting her arms above her head to stretch out her shoulders and back. “Well, as a thank you, I will make you dinner. I hope you want hot pot.”

“Is hot pot the only thing you can make?”

“I was going to have curry-“

Inuyasha cut her off quickly. “Hot pot sounds nice.”

Kagome smiled to herself, liking how she was able to at least win that argument with him, and headed towards the kitchen. He was insistent on helping her cut vegetables and set up the table for the meal. They fell into the comfortable conversation that had held over them the weekend.

It felt nice to share a meal together. It had been a very long time since Inuyasha had sat down and had food with her at her place. They normally went to restaurants or to a food truck when he got off of work. The comfortable simplicity of the meal made Kagome’s heart ache.

She had loved him for so long, but he was just her friend.

But still, he had spent his whole weekend entertaining her by redoing her bedroom.

Kagome took a sharp breath, causing Inuyasha to look up from his bowl at her inquisitively. “It’s good to know you’ll be able to fix up our future home.”

Inuyasha’s stare scared her. Maybe she should have said anything. Oh god. What had she done?

Before she could try to laugh it off, he replied, matter-of-factly. “It’s good to know you’ll fix up meals in our future home.”

Kagome smiled back at him, nodding her agreement. “We’ll make a good home.”

“Yeah,” Inuyasha agreed.

The comfortable casual conversation resumed. He talked about his project at work, and his experience with having to work with Miroku, who apparently was a bigger troublemaker than he was.

Kagome nodded along, but she was thinking about how this weekend was supposed to be a room transformation, but her life was what had transformed.

[melodyalanaroster]

Miracle Romance

"Oh my god." Alana gasped with tears in her eyes. She stood in front of a large mirror and stared at herself. "I finally look like Serenity." She smiled as she left the dressing room and showed herself to Nathaniel. "You look amazing." Nathaniel smiled. Alana began to cry. “For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be like her... And now, even for a few moments... I can be her.” Tears made their way down her face as she smiled. "I guess I have to break your one rule." Nathaniel smiled. "You are not dying your hair black." Alana remarked. "I could wear a wig." Nathaniel replied. “But Nath... We talked about this...” Alana began. "I am not letting anyone else be your Endymion." Nathaniel interjected.

★

Throughout Alana's life, she had made it very clear that Sailor Moon had been a staple to her. It was a staple in the Roster family. By the time Alana reached the point of living in the Black Tower, at least four generations of the family enjoyed it. Including both primary sets of sisters, Margaret and little Ravenna.

She would play pretend with Viktor, Severina and Sam when they were children. She would always be Sailor Moon and Princess Serenity, Viktor was Tuxedo Mask and Prince Endymion, Severina was Sailor Venus and Sam was always Sailor Jupiter. The tree house in Alana's backyard was often the Moon Kingdom and they would frequently save the world. The adventures would always end with the power of love winning and the kids going into the house for a snack.

As the kids reached adolescence, they were forced to stop playing. But, their love of the anime was still prevalent. Alana always kept up with merchandise news and rumors about the release of a second anime. Lynne had made sure that Alana and Sam had their own copies of the manga, original anime and movies. Viktor happily talked about being Endymion to Alana’s Serenity until they were forced to break up. They wanted to continue the fantasy, but circumstance parted them. Severina was always happy to talk to everyone, and toss out ideas for a proper cosplay group, but Sam dampened the idea with the reminder that, as long as Viktor’s and Severina’s fathers remained in control of their lives, they’d never be allowed to do so.

When Lynne moved Alana and Sam to Amouria, things began to change. "She won't shut up about that Nathaniel guy." Viktor growled as he sat down next to Severina. “Viktor, you knew from the day one that you and Mels weren't allowed to be together. She has to find her Endymion." Severina sighed. “But seriously? aunt Lynne moves her and Sam to Amouria and they both immediately find guys they like?” Viktor complained. “You know Mels talks about other guys too. Right now, it could be Castiel, Lysander, Armin or Nathaniel.” Severina tried to make things sound better. “No, it's definitely Nathaniel. She barely mentions the others to me. Mostly about Armin playing games, Castiel being an ass, and Lysander losing his notebook. But she dotes on Nathaniel a lot.” Viktor retorted. Severina sighed. "Viktor... Do you remember what happened to Adonis and Beryl? Their envy got the best of them, they became evil and they died. Please keep a clear head.” She reasoned. "I am not like Adonis and Beryl." Viktor shot. “Viktor, I can't believe I have to be the voice of reason here. Both of our moms made it very clear that aunt Lynne, Mels and Sam have more freedom than we do. They're not blue bloods. They have to find their miracle elsewhere... Although, you and I will probably end up being paired together in an arranged marriage set up by our fathers.” She explained. Viktor thought for a couple of minutes and sighed. "I just thought..." 

The first time Nathaniel ever went into Alana's room, he instantly noticed her Sailor Moon dolls. "They're really hard to find these days... And Sailor Moon means a lot to me..." She said as she explained what the show meant to her. “It's a connection to my past, my closest friends, and my family.” She smiled. Nathaniel looked puzzled for a bit, then smiled. "That's really sweet.". He smiled. He noticed a picture of her, Sam, Severina and Viktor on a shelf and picked it up. “You all look like you’re having so much fun.” He mused. “Yeah... That’s the only time we’ve ever been able to dress up.” Alana sighed, wistfully. The kids were in makeshift Sailor Scout uniforms. Their hair wasn’t perfect, and Viktor’s tux didn’t fit right, but they didn’t care. The photo had been taken a few weeks before Cosima Chevalier’s death, and was one of the last happy memories they had as a group. “Its cute.” Nathaniel chuckled as he looked at her lovingly.

When her mother went into the hospital, Nate arranged it to where Alana and Lynne could sit and watch whatever they wanted in the room. Lynne suggested marathoning Sailor Moon. The days in the hospital weren't as bad when they watched the show and Lynne stayed stable, but there were days where not even fighting evil by moonlight could save the day. But, that didn't keep them from trying. It didn't take them long to get through all five seasons and three movies of the original anime. “I heard they're making a second anime that's supposed to be closer to the manga!” Alana attempted to be cheery. She was sure that she, Severina and Sam had told her about Crystal, but she really couldn’t think of anything positive to say.  “That's lovely! Do you know when it's set to come out?” Lynne asked. “I have no idea. I'm sure Toei will update us when they can!” Alana replied. “I hope its soon.” Lynne smiled. Suddenly, Lynne began coughing and her monitors started to go off. “NURSE! HELP!” Alana cried.

Even when Sam and Alana fought so badly that the Military and RDR felt it was necessary to create a treaty between the two organizations to prevent the sisters from ever being enemies again, it was actually their love of Sailor Moon that truly began to bring them together again. Severina had gotten wind of the fight and forced the girls to go to her house. “OW! RINI! YOU'RE HURTING MY EAR!” Alana whined. “Seriously! What the hell?” Sam whined. “I don't care if I'm hurting you two! This kind of fighting is unacceptable! You two are sisters and you know that this behavior will tear the family apart! I won't allow that!" Severina began to cry as she lead the sisters to her home theater. "What's all this?" Alana asked. "You've forced my hand, so I'm pulling out the big guns!" Severina cried as she grabbed a remote and turned on the screen. Sam and Alana looked at the menu then at each other. "Go figure." Sam grinned. "Of course." Alana grinned. The menu on the screen was the DVD menu to Sailor Moon R: The Promise Of The Rose. By the time the song “The Power Of Love” was playing, tears were streaming down the sisters' faces. "Mels." Sam began to choke. "Sam." Alana's voice wavered. They looked at each other, sadness and regret in their eyes. “Mels... I’m s-so s-sorry f-for what I-I said..” Sam sniffled. “I’m s-sorry t-too S-Sami...” Alana blubbered as she hugged Sam. “I love you.” Sam muttered as she held onto her sister. “I love you too.” Alana murmured. 

When Death’s Domain was getting set up, Alana dedicated a whole room to the series. “You’re seriously going to have an entire room dedicated to Sailor Moon?” Derek had asked. “Yes. Its going to have shelves for merch, posters, and a couch to relax on.” Alana mused. “Melody can have whatever she wants for her apartment. And, if it helps her destress, I most definitely approve.” The  Red Death announced. “Well, the majority of my collection will be in there. There’s going to be something Sailor Moon related in every room.” Alana smiled. “Of course there will be.” Derek facepalmed. “I’m not apologizing. I love Sailor Moon and I wanna showcase it in my home.” Alana laughed. “And I’m sure you’re going to do nothing but post about your collection for a while.” Derek rolled his eyes. “Obviously. Moonies have a good presence online.” Alana mused. “I thought “Moonies” were people who followed the Unification Church?” The Red Death inquired. “Yeah, they are called that, but Sailor Moon fans are also called “Moonies”. I know, in certain circles, I have to be sure to differentiate... But, its what we’re called.” Alana explained as she shrugged her shoulders. The room ended up becoming a paradise for fans of the series. Shelves filled with various collectibles, a couch decorated with two throw pillows and a blanket, a coffee table with two sets of coasters, a large rug, framed posters, plushies, moon and star lights along the walls and showering down the window and a tv mounted on one wall. In contrast to the vast majority of Death’s Domain, the room was an explosion of bright colors.

★

Nathaniel stepped into the restroom for a few minutes. Alana watched the door in anticipation. When he came out, he was running his hands along the circumference of the black wig, making sure it was in its proper place. The thought of how similar he looked to Viktor shot through her mind. She did her best to suppress that thought. "You don't even like cosplay..." She muttered as she smiled. "You do so much for me, I don't mind doing this for you." He grinned. "Nathaniel! I love you!” She cried as she wrapped her arms around him. “I knew I was going to see Princess Serenity, I didn't know Prince Endymion would be with her!” someone called from behind them. They turned around and saw Sam leaning in the doorway. “Sam! I look just like her!” Alana cried. "I wonder if I can get Ken to be Nephrite." Sam commented. “I'm sure he would be if you asked him. You two would be the perfect Jupiter and Nephrite!” Alana beamed. “I didn't know this was turning into a full on cosplay group!” Ken laughed as he walked up behind Sam. "Why not?" Sam asked. "I'm not sure Viktor would appreciate being Kunzite." Alana remarked. “He'd have to get used to it. Since Nathaniel is Endymion, that demotes Viktor to Kunzite.” Sam stated. "Right because when you guys were kids, Viktor was always Endymion." Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “Viktor has had years to accept his position in my sister's life. If he doesn't accept it, it will not end well for him.” Sam replied. "Do you think he will?" Nathaniel asked. "If he truly cares about her, he will." Sam nodded. “Viktor has known for years that our time ended long ago. Accepting his new position is painful for him, but he is well aware of the fact that it's something that he must do.” Alana explained.

A few minutes later, Renee walked into the room. “You both look magnificent! The girls and I have gotten a backdrop ready, would you two mind taking a few pictures?” She beamed. Alana smiled and turned to Nathaniel, a very hopeful look on her face. "Would you be okay with that?" She asked. Nathaniel nodded. "Sure." He grinned. They followed Renee into a room. "Oh my god! You two look utterly amazing!”, “You look beautiful Mels! Nathaniel, you look so handsome!”, “True Moon and Earth royalty!” the other girls cooed when they saw them. “I think we should do a cosplay group. I'm Jupiter and Rini will be Venus.” Sam commented when she walked in. "I volunteer to be Mercury!" Renee cheered. "I'll be Mars." Lyra smiled. "I'll be Pluto." Veronica beamed. "I don't mind being Saturn." Nora suggested. "I wonder if we could get Lucy and Noelle to be Uranus and Neptune." Sam pondered. "We could also see about getting Ravenna to be Chibi Moon." Alana proposed. “I think that would be fantastic. Who would be the rest of the Shitennou?” Lyra asked. "I could see if Armin could be Jadeite." Alana thought out loud. "Are we really setting up a cosplay group?" Nathaniel asked. Sam looked at Nath, as if he had said something really stupid. "Do you not realize how highly rated Sailor Moon cosplay groups are?" She asked. Nathaniel shook his head. “Sailor Moon cosplay groups are some of the most elite cosplayers in the anime world. Sailor Moon being one of the most iconic anime in history, it is instantly recognizable. The cosplayers take some of the most beautiful pictures, make some of the coolest videos, and even do events. They may not be unionized like Star Wars' 501st Legion, but they come together and coalesce with great ease whenever they recognize each other. Children who recognize them run up to them the same way that they do with superheroes, and typically, they are nice to them. It is a sisterhood of love and justice.” Sam explained. "Not to mention how fun it would be to finally be in one." Alana cooed. “We'd still need Zoisite.” Veronica stated. "I wonder if Derek could be him." Nora pondered. “Uh, guys? Can we please get to the photoshoot?” Renee asked impatiently. 

After posting for photos for what felt like an eternity, Nathaniel and Alana went into the changing room to get out of their cosplays. "You do look really beautiful in that." Nathaniel smiled as he took the black wig off. Alana blushed. "Do you really think so?" She asked nervously. “Of course. You look magnificent.” He blushed as he walked over to her and kissed her. “Thank you for doing this my love. It means the world to me.” Tears came to Alana's eyes as she spoke. “I love you my Melody.” Nathaniel cooed as he wiped a tear from her cheek. “I love you so much Nathaniel!” She mused as she threw her arms around him.

★

A few weeks later, in the early hours of the morning, several cars arrived at an old castle in the country. “This place looks amazing! Perfect for our photo shoot!” Alana cheered as she got out of the car. “Welcome to the Astarian Royal Palace Lady Melody!” A woman with long brown hair, sunglasses and wearing a knee length blue dress beamed as she walked up to them. “Mrs. Reynard, I presume?” Alana asked as she shook the woman's hand. “Yes ma'am. We spoke over the phone.” the woman smiled. “You are fully aware as to why we need the palace today. Am I correct?” Alana inquired. “Yes. For your little photoshoot. Cosplay, I believe.” Mrs. Reynard replied. “Yes. Sailor Moon. Its important the palace be the backdrop to this shoot.” Alana stated. “The photographer will be here in a few minutes to set up. They'll need time.” Mrs. Reynard explained. “That's fine. We need time to prepare.” Alana smiled.

After a couple of hours, the members of the group began to step out of their respective preparation rooms and into a lounge. Lynne Roster as Queen Serenity, Sam as Sailor Jupiter, Severina as Sailor Venus, Renee as Sailor Mercury, Lyra as Sailor Mars, Noelle as Sailor Uranus, Lucy as Sailor Neptune, Nora as Sailor Saturn, Veronica as Sailor Pluto, Ravenna as Small Lady Serenity, Viktor as Kunzite, Ken as Nephrite, Armin as Jadeite, Derek as Zoisite, Nathaniel as Prince Endymion and Alana as Princess Serenity. When the entire group was gathered in the lounge, tears filled Alana's eyes. “It's so beautiful!” she happily cried out. “Awe! Mels!” Severina cheered as she hugged Alana. “This was a fantastic idea!” Lynne beamed. "How long do we all need to wear this?" Armin asked, slightly uncomfortable. “Just a few hours. We're gonna get a TON of shots! ” someone replied as they walked up. It was a young woman with short platinum blonde hair, bright green eyes, and pale skin. She wore black pants, a white button up top and a deep blue beret. "You all look so regal!" She cheered. “Alright everyone, let me introduce you to you Catarina. She's a friend of mine from boarding school. She's the photographer I told you guys about!” Severina introduced. “Hello everyone! It is an absolute pleasure to meet you all!” Catherine bowed. ” Severina introduced. “Hello everyone! It is an absolute pleasure to meet you all!” Catherine bowed.

The photoshoot took several hours, and took place at various locations within the castle grounds. Lynne insisted on at least one family shot with Sam and Alana, and one with Sam, Alana, Severina, Ravenna, Ken, Nathaniel, and Viktor. “This is odd. I don't quite know the anime, but those characters aren't actually family, aren't they?” Catarina asked, curiously. “Not exactly... I mean, Queen Serenity, Princess Serenity, and Small Lady Serenity are three generations of lunar royalty, and Prince Endymion is Princess Serenity's husband and Sailor Chibi Moon's father... But, this shot isn't about the show's family. It's about their family.” Lyra explained. “Oh. That's sweet!” Catarina smiled. Alana insisted each “couple” got their own picture. Viktor wasn't too happy that his couldn't be with Alana, but he didn't mind posing with Severina. Kentin was very happy to have a romantic pose with Sam. "Nephrite and Jupiter look so fantastic!" Renee cheered. “Are you kidding? I've been wanting to do this set for a long time!” Sam beamed. “My favorite part of all of this. I hate this wig, but being your knight is worth it.” Ken mused as he looked at Sam lovingly. "This is awkward." Derek rolled his eyes when he and Renee had their turn. "Oh grow up!" Renee snapped. "Derek... You know what happens when Renee gets mad!" Alana laughed. “Yeah... She gets pretty scary.” Derek sighed. Everyone laughed as Renee forced Derek into a somewhat romantic pose. "But this is so awkward!" Derek whined. "Just do it!" Renee demanded. When their part of the shoot ended, Derek sat down and shot back a bottle of water. “That was weird. "Lyra, Armin, you're up!" Alana cheered. “Now this will be interesting! ” Ken chuckled. “And in Dragon Ball references Armin! Toei may own both franchises, but now is not the time to try to mix the two!” Sam ordered. “Awe come on! That takes part of the fun out of it!” Armin whined. “Armin, if we were doing a smaller photoshoot, I wouldn't mind a few “fun” shots. So please be more serious.” Alana urgent. "Fine." Armin sighed as he and Lyra took their places in front of the camera. 

“God that was exhausting! Who'd have thought that Cosplay would be THAT much work?” Nathaniel whined he crashed onto the living room couch at Death's Domain. "If you had cosplayed as the Winter Soldier when Armin and I cosplayed as Captain America and Black Widow at that Marvel Exhibition in High School, you would have known, first hand, A LOT sooner!" Alana shot as she crashed down next to him. "You still won't let me live that down?" He asked. "Nope." She chuckled. "Why not?" He asked. “Because Armin and I worked our asses off to do our characters justice and we were hoping you would join in on the fun. Especially considering how Natasha and Bucky get together in the comics several times, so it would have been a cute “couple's cosplay” for you and me. Not to mention how cosplay is more than just “wearing a costume”. When someone properly cosplays, they also wish to play the character, even for just a day. They temporarily escape reality and enter the one the character they're cosplaying as resides in. Weeks, months, and even years are spent building props and even hand making the items and outfits. There is a lot of blood, sweat and tears that go into it!” She explained. "I know you and Armin love it, but I don't think I could do it as often as you want to." Nathaniel sighed. “I get that. Its not for everybody. But, I'm thankful you did it for me.” Alana Mused. “I love you Alana. You always do so much for me... And it has been a long time since I've been the "prince" to your "princess." He grinned. "And I'm sure rubbing it Viktor's face added to your enjoyment.” She chuckled. "That did make it a bit more fun." He smirked. "I really wish you wouldn't antagonize him." She sighed. over you and find someone else. It's the same with Castiel. You're not going to be with him, so he needs to quit pining." He shot. "Yes, but with Castiel, you two have reached a mutual agreement, and he has angered me in such a way that I spat that truth with him." She chimed in. "Which makes the situation with Viktor worse. had your family and Severina telling him for years... Yet he insists." He huffed as he rolled his eyes. "Despite that, he is still one of my best and oldest friends. We were raised together and are still like family. Can you at least try to play nice with him?" She requested. Nathaniel looked at her annoyed. "Please! Pretty please! My sweet Endymion…” Alana begged as she playfully batted her eyes. He thought for a minute and exhaled. “Fine. ” He sighed. "Thank you." She mused. “But if he oversteps the boundaries that you and I put in place, I won't be so kind.” He stated. She cuddled up next to him and kissed his cheek. "I love you Nathaniel." She cooed. He put his arms around her and kissed her forehead. "I love you too Alana."

★

Several weeks later, after the images from the photoshoot had been posted and gone viral, an idea came to Severina's mind. She turned to Alana and Sam and smiled. "What?" Sam asked. “What if we did a cosplay concert?!” Severina cheered. “Nope. I'm not singing.” Alana stated. “PLEASE! We could choose a song from Sailor Moon and singing it at a convention!” Severina urged. “Really? What song would we even do?” Sam asked. “What about “Moon Effect”? It's sung by all of the scouts!” Severina cheered. “Please no. I don't sing.” Alana begged. "But, you wouldn't be alone... And we can't do it without our Sailor Moon!" Sam sneered. “Honey... You're such a beautiful singer! Please!!!!” Severina pleaded. “No…” Alana muttered. “Damn it Mels! Just do it! We all know that you sing when you're alone! On top of that, Nath, Rini, Viktor, Mom and I have all been telling you for years that we all think your singing is beautiful! So, just do it!” Sam snapped. "Don't forget how your teammates think so too." Severina added. Alana thought for a few minutes and huffed. “Fine. I'll do it.” She sighed. “Huzzah! Let's do it at Comic Con!” Sam cheered. "No! That’s too big a venue!" Alana pleaded "That's why it should be done there! You'll get over your stage fright on one of the biggest stages on the Convention Circuit!" Sam explained. "My babies singing a Sailor Moon song in full cosplay? I'd love to help you with it!" Lynne cheered as she walked up to them. "Fantastic! We'll make it a family project!" Severina smiled. Alana looked around at the other women, thought for a few minutes, sighed, and sheepishly grinned. “I guess the Roster Family women are putting on a show!”

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

Words cannot describe how badly I've wanted to write something Sailor Moon related to my story... 

Sailor Moon means a lot to me... It was my mom’s and my “thing”. No matter how much we fought, argued, and went at each other’s throats, we always bonded over the series. The first and last time I watched it in it’s entirety was with her just before her disease started taking its hold. She was the one who got me my first bits of merch, who was always happy to talk to me about it. The last Christmas gift I got her was a blanket with all the scouts on it, and she gave me plushies of Luna and Artemis. When mom died, Sailor Moon came to mean so much more to me. My aunt made me pendants with her ashes in them that look like the Legendary Silver Crystal, I got Pluto’s Garnet Rod tattooed on my back, and I became more adamant about collecting items. Each time I get a new item, I feel closer to her... There are times where I’ll even burst into tears because of Sailor Moon making me think of her....

Yes, I used the character sprite of Nathaniel that I edited from the Dark Chocolate Steward to make him look more like Endymion. I made his hair black, and edited his rings and earrings out.

Little tip... The bit about Adonis won't make sense unless you've read the Codename Sailor V manga.... If you’re not in the mood to read it, Adonis was a lowly Venusian soldier who was in love with his princess (Venus). Venus fell in love with Kunzite instead of him. He found her on Earth and cursed her to never be able to have love again, thus freeing more of her time up to focus on her duty as the leader of Princess Serenity’s Sailor Guardians.

This was originally going to be a Valentine's Day special for 2020. Then 2020 became the dumpster fire that it was and my real life needed more of my attention....

The majority of this does take place during the first year between University Life and Love Life. Before Nath and Alana go on their globe trotting adventure. The flashback section takes place at various points in time.

Credit goes to:

Naoko Takeuchi for Sailor Moon

@candysweetposts for the Princess Serenity Pack (seriously, thank you for going through with my request!)

@chinomiko and Beemoov for My Candy Love

[blueskrugs]

Four Times Fate Brought You to Vince Dunn, and One Time You Found Him on Purpose

I wrote this simultaneously with another Vince 4+1 (coming tomorrow, hopefully!) and yelled to @captainpetty​ and Erin​ about them constantly. Sorry guys. 

length: 3k words

An Accident You met Vince Dunn for the first time in an emergency room in St. Louis. Normally you worked the pediatric floor, and not on the night shift, but sometimes you floated to the general emergency room for an extra shift because, well, money is money.

You liked pediatrics because dealing with kids was far easier than adults, in your opinion, even when parents could sometimes be just as difficult as a screaming toddler. But at least screaming toddlers could be calmed down with the promise of a sticker or a lollipop. 

“Hey, can you pick up the new guy that just came in?” one of the other nurses asked as she breezed past you to handle one of her patients. “I think they said something about him being important around here.”

“Being important” meant that, when you pulled the curtain back to face your newest patient, you came face-to-face with a very drunk Vince Dunn and a significantly less drunk Colton Parayko. You simply raised an eyebrow and moved over to the computer to start charting.

“I’m not really sure I want to know what happened here, but I think I have to ask,” you said, trying to ignore the fact that you were pretty sure Vince was whispering to Colton about you.

“Is there any way, like, our training staff-”

“And Petro!”

“God, yeah, and Petro, won’t find out about this? Because I wasn’t supposed to let anything happen to him, and we have a game tomorrow,” Colton finished. 

That really didn’t answer your question, and you weren’t sure how anything that brought the two of them into an ER after midnight was going to be easily hidden for a game the next night. You turned then, properly looked at the boys, took in Vince sitting on the bed with his feet swinging above the ground like a child. His shirt was a little wet with what was probably beer, and, when you looked closer, blood. His left hand was wrapped in a bar rag–that you really hoped had been clean when they got it–that was definitely blood-stained. 

Colton explained to you, as you started an IV in Vince’s right arm and cleaned the gash in his palm that would definitely need stitches, that they had gone out in spite of their captain telling them it was a bad idea. Vince had had one beer too many and had ended up on a table, then fell off the table, catching his fall on someone’s pint of beer. By the way Vince winced when you moved his hand around to clean it, you were pretty sure his wrist sprained, too.

You hovered a bit as one of the ER doctors came in and checked out Vince’s hand and wrist. Vince was quiet, but you could feel him watching you as you fidgeted around the small room. By the time everything was ready for him to be sent home, he was definitely more sober himself, but that also meant he was lucid enough to be embarrassed about how he ended up in the ER. You watched as Colton led him out of the ER and to a waiting Uber, and you wondered just how the hell they were planning on hiding his hand from everyone the next day.

At a Bar The second time you met Vince Dunn was, somewhat ironically, in a bar. You had seen him as soon as you walked in, laughing with some of his teammates in the corner, but you diligently ignored him as you headed to the bar with your friend to get a drink. Why would he remember some random ER nurse from over a month ago, when he had been drunk? You shook your head, determined to ignore the loud hockey boys in the corner and have a good night yourself. 

You had been at the bar almost an hour and had done a pretty good job of ignoring and avoiding the hockey players in the corner. You headed over to the bar for a second drink, when you felt a hand press against your lower back. You tensed, twisting around as much as you could in the crowded bar to see who was behind you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” Vince said, but he didn’t move his hand. He raised his left hand to get the attention of the bartender, and you saw the flash of a still-healing scar on his palm, pink even in the dim light of the bar. “You were that nurse from the ER, yeah? I never thanked you for taking care of my drunk ass that night.” He smiled, then, wide and genuine, hand still warm against the small of your back, and you relaxed a little bit. 

You were surprised that he recognized you. You’d heard stories of the younger players on the Blues wheeling multiple girls at once; you vaguely wondered how they kept track of them, much less a nobody nurse he’d met once. 

You didn’t say that, though, just smiled back at him as the bartender slid two beers in front of you. You reached into your pocket to pay but Vince grabbed your wrist.

“Nah, this one’s on me. Said I had to thank you, didn’t I?” he told you. You tried not to think about how green his eyes were up close. 

You shook yourself again; you didn’t need this. You didn’t need this. Besides, how many more times could you run into Vince Dunn?

In Enemy Territory It was in Pittsburgh, of all places, when you saw Vince Dunn again. One of your brothers had moved out there for work, and you were visiting him for a week, helping out with babysitting his kids, hanging with your sister-in-law. You hadn’t even thought to check the Blues’ schedule; you had no idea they were on a road trip to play the Penguins. 

You were standing in line at a Starbucks, your two-year-old nephew balanced on your hip, your sister-in-law still outside with the other kids.  You heard the door open behind you, and a loud group came in, but now you were focused on ordering before the toddler you were carrying decided he got bored and threw a tantrum. You were struggling to reach your card one handed when someone else reached past you.

“Add it to ours,” the voice belonging to the arm said. You spun, only to see Colton Parayko looking down at you with a smile. You looked over his shoulder to see several of his teammates shoving each other playfully in line. That would explain the loud group you’d heard come in. Colton was introducing himself to the two year old you were carrying, but you were still watching his teammates. Vince caught your eye from where he was trying to put Jordan Kyrou in a headlock and grinned, immediately letting go of Rouzy. You smiled back, a little caught off guard. 

You stepped to the side as you waited.  Before long, you were joined by Vince, both of you trying to ignore the catcalls from his other teammates. 

“And who’s this little guy?” Vince cooed, actually ignoring you aside from a quick smile. You raised an eyebrow a little bit at his baby-voice.

Your nephew tucked his face into your neck, suddenly shy. “Oh, come on now,” you said to him. “This is Jake, he’s my brother’s youngest,” you explained to Vince. Vince continued to talk to your nephew in that same high, gentle voice, until he was giggling and chattering right back. The barista called your name, and Jake picked that moment to decide he was done being patient and started fussing, very close to crying and screaming. You couldn’t balance two drinks and two sandwiches as well as a fidgeting toddler, and you groaned. 

“Here give him to me,” Vince said, reaching out to take him before you could protest. Jake settled immediately, and you glared at him a little. You could hear Vince talking to him more as you scrambled to pick up all of your order. He followed you outside, and you ignored the interested stares of the rest of the guys. 

He continued to hold Jake as you handed off your sister-in-law’s half of the order, stood there to chat with her and the other kids, long after Sammy came out with Vince’s drink. He used the same voice he had used to befriend Jake on the other two kids, but he talked and laughed with you and Sarah in the next breath, even teasing her for the Pens shirt she was wearing. 

You were doing your best not to think about how that voice was making you melt every time he used it. His teammates eventually dragged him away to get back to the hotel before the game, but not before Vince talked you into exchanging phone numbers. 

You tried telling yourself that you were never going to use it. 

In a Grocery Store You were pretty sure the universe was laughing at you at this point. Your mom had invited herself over for dinner, and you had nothing in your apartment to cook. Which meant you rushed to a grocery store on your lunch break, and you ended up at a different one than you usually went to because it was closer to work.

Why couldn’t all grocery stores be laid out the same? You were trying very hard to make it look like you weren’t turning in circles as you tried to find everything you were looking for when your phone buzzed. You pulled it out with a huff, fully expecting it to your mom again, but instead the name on your screen read, “Vince Dunn.” 

You paused. It had been nearly another month since Pittsburgh, and neither one of you had texted the other one. You were (mostly) perfectly content with leaving it that way, but clearly Vince had other ideas. The screen had gone dark, but it lit up again, reminding you it was there. You read the text, the simple words “you look a little lost.” With that you spun around, and, sure enough, Vince was standing a couple feet behind you, leaning against a shelf with a smirk on his face.

“I don’t have time for this,” you said, turning back around and starting to push your cart in a direction that hopefully ended in pasta. 

“Hey, wait,” Vince said, taking a couple annoyingly long steps to catch up to you and put a hand on your cart to stop you. “Lemme help. It’ll be faster. I’ve been watching you walk in circles for like ten minutes.” You blushed as he smirked again, but his eyes were soft. 

You wanted so badly to just push past Vince, forget you had ever met him, and then met him again and again, delete his number from your phone, but you also knew he was right; he would probably get you out of this damned grocery store a lot faster than you could probably manage on your own, and maybe you really wanted to spend a little time with him, too. 

So you sighed, handed Vince the list you had scribbled on the back of a gas receipt, and let him lead you around the grocery store. He let you rant about your mom, and then about work, only pausing to offer opinions on the food he was putting in your cart. After a while, you realized you had actually managed to get everything on your list, but now Vince was wandering aimlessly around the store, sneaking junk food into your cart. You raised an eyebrow as you watched him slip a package of cookie mix behind the box of pasta. He looked up at you as you leaned on the cart handle, sheepish now that he’d been caught.

“What?I like snickerdoodles,” he said in defense.

You shook your head and pulled the package out of the cart. “I can make better snickerdoodles from scratch, dude.” You looked closer at everything in your cart. “And I don’t like jalapeno Cheetos,” you said, throwing the bag at Vince.

“Is that a promise on the snickerdoodles?” Of course he focused on that.

“I don’t know, maybe. Now go put the damn Cheetos back.”

Vince laughed. You willed yourself to focus on getting out of the store and home to cook dinner, not just kissing Vince in the middle of the baking aisle. 

“Don’t knock ‘em until you try ‘em. Thommer’s gotten the whole team addicted at this point,” Vince told you over his shoulder as he went to put the Cheetos back from wherever he found them. You turned around and headed back in what you thought was the direction of checkout. Vince found you again as you stood in line. You had honestly thought the whole Cheetos thing would be the end of this interaction with him, but apparently not. 

“Don’t you have your own grocery shopping to do?” you asked, realizing just how much time Vince had spent with you in the store. “Instead of helping some random girl?” you added, allowing the insecurity you were suddenly feeling slip into your voice. 

Vince started putting your groceries on the conveyor belt. “Nah, Sammy just wanted some snacks, and he can wait.”

You let Vince load the rest of your stuff onto the belt, you didn’t let him pay–though he fought you on that one for several minutes–and you let him walk with you to your car and put all of your groceries in the trunk.

You were halfway home before you thought to wonder if he actually went back and got snacks for Sammy. 

At a Hockey Game When your best friend texted you and asked if you wanted to go to a Blues game with her, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. You had grown up a hockey fan, had found Hannah in high school, and there you two were, years later, still yelling about the Blues over texts and phone calls and in person. Your eagerness had absolutely nothing to do with Vince Dunn. 

You also didn’t hesitate to snap a picture of your ticket and send it to Vince after Hannah handed it to you. You didn’t really think he’d see it so close to puck drop, but you still regretted it as soon as the tiny little “sent” appeared underneath the picture. 

The game was exciting, and the Blues won, which helped distract you from the anxiety you were feeling over Vince. Mostly. Until he scored a goal, and his eyes swept the sea of blue in Enterprise Center, and, for a split second, you let yourself think he was looking for you. 

Until after the game, when you and Hannah were getting up to leave, and an usher appeared next to you, saying your name and telling you to follow her. Getting down below the arena was a blur of people and security, being given neon wristbands and convincing people that, “Yes, I was invited down here by a player, I belong down here,” even if you didn’t really believe that second part was true. 

You both hovered awkwardly in the doorway to the room where all of the WAGs and kids were waiting, and suddenly you regretted wearing your Parayko jersey just a little bit. You were thankful to have your friend next to you, though, and you explained the whole grocery store thing to her while you waited. You were starting to debate leaving, telling everyone that, yeah, actually, letting you down into the tunnels was a mistake, that you have no business being there, when you’re wrapped up in a hug suddenly, and there’s Vince, freshly-showered and back in his suit– and this is new, but it’s nice and you let yourself relax into the hug.

Vince pulled back, and he was smiling at you and introducing himself to Hannah, and Colton was standing behind him with a matching smile. You remembered the 55 sprawled across your back, and you knew Colton saw it, but then he was wrapping his arm around your shoulder and didn’t say anything about it.

You weren’t so lucky with Vince. “I’ve gotta get you a new jersey,” he said. You just rolled your eyes and shrugged. 

“I’ll sign that one for you,” Colton whispered. 

Vince and Colton started arguing over that, and you were starting to think that this is something you could get used to, since this was apparently your new normal, when Alex Pietrangelo comes over to your little group, and you were reminded a little just how not normal this was for you. 

“Is this the nurse Dunner won’t shut up about?” Petro asked Colton, who nodded over your head. “You really freaked him out when you texted him before the game,” Petro was talking again, this time to you. “We thought he was gonna go out into the stands to find you himself.”

You laughed, more at the bright blush that was spreading over Vince’s cheeks. “What happened to ‘Petro can’t find out about this?’” you asked.

“That went out the window pretty fast,” Colton told you.

“And I don’t know how you ever thought you could hide eight stitches in your hand and a sprained wrist from me,” Petro added.

“You should have heard him after we saw you in Pittsburgh. He kept looking for you at the game that night, too.” 

You smiled up at Vince, who was blushing all the way up his ears now, but he just wrapped his arm around your shoulders and buried his face in your hair. Yeah, you could definitely get used to that. You elbowed him in the ribs a little bit, but his arm just tightened around your shoulders. 

He and Colton walked you and Hannah back to your car outside the arena, Colton chirping Vince relentlessly the whole way.

Vince grabbed your hand before you could get in your car. “I’ll text you, yeah?” He looked unsure, which was probably the first time you’d ever seen him nervous around you. “Sammy won’t stop asking me when you’re baking us cookies.”

“I don’t remember saying anything about baking Sammy Blais cookies,” you laughed. “Text me when your next day off is, and we’ll see about those cookies.” And then, because apparently you couldn’t stop doing impulsive things tonight, you pushed up on your toes to kiss Vince on the cheek before climbing into the car.

Your phone vibrated in your cupholder less than five minutes later, and you knew without checking that it was Vince. 

[bonniebird]

As long as she needs me

Alcide x Reader

Requested by @human-and-angel-2​

Alcide hugged you as soon as the door was opened. “Alcide! It’s nice to see you too.” You said. Your voice was muffled against his shoulder as he squeezed you. Eventually letting you down.

“It’s been so long! You said you had an emergency.” He explained and smiled when you nodded.

“It’s a werewolf problem.” You said as you glanced around and pulled him inside. The last thing you needed was the nosy old bag from next door overhearing.

“Like, you’re a werewolf now or…?”

“Oh! No, not me. My nephews. They’re real little but apparently. One the last full moon. They turned into wolves and my sister is sending them here. I don’t know if they’re werewolves or shifters or… oh gee they could be anything I guess. I would ask Sam but he’s away and, well, Sookie has all those vamps around her. I suppose. Well I just thought maybe you could help for a while, just a few days. Until they settle in.” You explained and Alcide smiled.

“I don’t mind helping you pup sit. It’ll make a nice change to the usual favours people ask me to do.” He said cheerfully.

“Oh Alcide you are a lifesaver. They’ve already eaten me out of house and home, they were running rings around Arlene. You know how my sister is. She just turned up at the crack of dawn, unloaded them, no shoes still in their pajamas and started hollering about werewolves. I don’t have a phone number for her or an address or anything. The last time I saw the youngest he was newborn.” You started blabbering on until you paused and your eyes went wide. “They’ve gone quiet!”

Alcide hurried after you as you rushed to your yard. Jason Stackhouse had built a fence all around the yard one summer way back when you were in school with Sookie. Your sister had tried to run off with him that same summer and Sookie had told you that she was surprised to find anyone more of a flake than Jason.

“They couldn't have got out! The yards fence in!” You said quickly as you started looking for them.

“They probably squeezed through here.” Alcide said. He pointed to a small hole he’d crouched next to. “If they’re turning into wolves like your sister said they couldn’t be very big, they’re young.”

“What’re the chances that all three with different fathers are all werewolves?” You asked uncertainly.

“Maybe it’s on your side?” Alcide offered as he started stripping. You turned away, catching the clothes he tossed at you as he shifted.

“I know we have two witches and a psychic. No wolves or shifters though. Unless my sister has a type.” You said to the wolf that was now looking up at you. He sniffled softly before heading to the back gate. You unlocked it so he could squeeze through. “I’ll wait here in case they come back and I’ll leave the back gate open for you.” You called after him.

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

“(Y/N)!” Sookie said as she let herself into the house.

“Sook! I need your help for a second.” You called from upstairs. You heard her running up the carpeted stairs and she reached up to grab some of the blankets that had been in your arms.

“You said your sister abandoned the boys again!” Sookie said as you climbed down from the airing cupboards top shelf with a few pillows.

“Well Mom and Pop aren’t around anymore so they’re stuck with me. Apparently they started turning into wolves and she couldn’t cope.” You explained. “All three. Did you call Sam?”

“Yup, all three. I tried but he won't be back until the end of the week, which totally sucks but, luckily Alcide came. He’s out looking for the boys, he’s been gone a while. I’m sure they’re all fine but I’m starting to worry.” You admitted. Sookie sighed as she followed you, letting out a low whistle letting you know she didn’t envy you one bit.

“I’ll call Sam later and see if he has any advice for you. Arlene said the boys were wild earlier.”

You hummed in agreement as she helped you set up the spare room for Alcide. Your sister’s old room would have to squeeze in all three of the boys for now. “I don’t mind looking after them. I don’t. I’m sure we’ll all figure out how to deal with whatever this wolf thing is, which, i might add you. I have yet to see with my own eyes. I just hate to let them down. I’m gonna have to juggle working and then tracking down their mom. Poor Alcide came down here and I’m sure he was hoping for a quick punch up and a scenic trip home.” You said to Sookie who gave you a sympathetic hug.

“Me and Jason will help out, Bill too, once the wolf thing is under control you just know Tara will be happy to help too, she just loves the oldest two and she’ll be dying to meet the little one. He hasn’t been round here since your momma made your sister come home to have him.” Sookie said as she pulled away.

You both hurried to the window when you heard a ruckus outside. Jason was walking up the drive, Alcide chasing two smaller pups that were darting all over the place. The youngest sat on one of Jason’s shoulders, wearing his shirt like which fell long past his feet. “There see, they found them. One less thing to worry about.” Sookie said encouragingly.

“Oh my stars! You were all gone for so long I was worried.” You said as you rushed down the stairs, taking your youngest nephew from Jason who was promptly tackled by a pup. Alcide sloped off to excuse himself, dragging his pile of clothes with him.

“Yeah, this one ran in front of my car starkers. Had the fight of my life. Then I saw these two chasing him. Then I recognised the big dog that followed. Sookie said something about them being shifters or whatever. What’d your sister get into?” Jason said as he ruffled the fur of the largest wolf who was sniffing at him.

“Who knows.” You sighed and thanked Sookie who had hurried into the hall to fetch a bag of kids clothes Arlene had gathered for you from people around town.

“The oldest is definitely a were.” Alcide said as he came back, now dressed. “The younger two could just be shifters that imprinted and seem like werewolves because they’re mimicking their brother.”

“How do we figure out… what they are?” You asked nervously.

“We wait until they’re older and ask Sam.” Alcide said quickly. He started wrestling with the small wolf pup as he took a seat on the sofa.

“Well, how do we turn them back? We can’t just have a bunch of wolves running around in broad daylight.” Jason pointed out.

“You’ll have to wait for them to want to turn back.” Alcide explained and you nodded.

“I have just the thing.” You said decisively. You hurried out of sight and came back with three chocolate bars. Immediately the boys changed back and Sookie helped you wrangle them into the new clothes.

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

“Thanks for your help today.” You said to Alcide. He paused, having been washing up the dinner plates. Sookie had insisted on take out, when Laffayette and Tara heard the boys were back they wanted to see the rascals for themselves. It had ended in a family style dinner, with take out from all the places that were open.

It took two and a half hours and a phone call from Arlene to get the boys to sleep. By the time that was over everyone was ready to get home and rest up for work the next day. “It’s no problem… but I do have to run back home for some things.” Alcide said quickly.

“Oh! You don’t… don’t have to stay if you… There’s a room made up but…” You started saying and he shook his head.

“I’ll be back, I just packed for… Well I didn’t pack. I figured I’d be running an unwanted wolf out of town. I um. I figured I’d stick around for as long as you’ll have me. It’s hard enough for a pack to deal with lots of pups. Never mind one human. Not that you couldn't handle it alone. I just.. What kind of friend would I be if I abandoned you now.” He laughed a little and smiled at you as you started helping him clear the dining room.

“Thanks Alcide.” You said and hugged him quickly.

“I shouldn’t be long, I’ll just need a few tools and clothes, it should only take an hour or so.” 

“You should take these. House keys, Sookie left hers. She said she’d share Tara’s copy so we don’t have to cut any extras.” You explained quickly as you held out a set of keys on a keychain with a sparkly pink heart.

Once Alcide was gone you finished tidying up, setting things in piles that you could deal with the next day, you finally decided you had done enough and flopped down onto the sofa. You knew you should trudge up to bed but now you’d sat down you couldn’t be bothered to move. “A few minutes with my eyes closed won't hurt.” You mumbled to yourself.

Alcide had taken longer to pack up than he’d meant to. He was overthinking and he knew it. He’d met you through your sister. More specifically. He had met you when you turned up in a werewolf bar when you were all younger and had dragged her out. He’d dropped her home a few times after that. Your father hated him and decided he was the reason for your sister running away for days on end and dropping out of school. Your mother was more than happy that someone was willing to run her back home every time your sister passed out in a bar she’d managed to sneak into.

When you were all younger he’d daydream about what it’d be like to end up with you. When you’d invited him to a party and introduced Jason as your best friend’s brother, he assumed that you’d end up dating Jason. He felt nervous. More nervous than he had the night he’d almost kissed you for the first time after you snuck him into your house to celebrate your graduation.

By the time he’d pulled himself out of his head Alcide had realised he’d packed up everything in his apartment into his truck. He repeated to himself that he was helping you because he was a good were, no human could handle three growing pups alone and Sookie meant well but you needed his help. It didn’t mean anything more. He would be a good friend, no feelings mixing things up. 

He would help you handle the mess your sister had dumped on you and when Sam Merlotte got back into town you wouldn’t need him anymore and he would step aside. Because he was your friend, he’d been your best friend at one point, you’d told him everything. He let himself into the house as quietly as he could and paused in the hallway, setting down the few bags he’d need in the morning. He smiled as he saw you, asleep, uncomfortably sprawled upright on the sofa. After looking at you for a moment he sighed. Crossing the room he lifted you into his arms and carried you up to bed. He set you down gently and kissed your forehead as he pulled the blankets around you.

“Only as long as she needs me, nothing more, no feelings just helping your friend.” Alcide whispered to himself under his breath as he pulled away from you and shuffled out of the room, closing the door as gently as he could.

He looked up to see three curious faces starting at him from round the doorway down the hall. “Alright, let's get you back to bed.” He said with a fond smile.

[ayellowcurtain]

After tonight’s clip (which actually broke my heart) could you maybe write a lil something about the next time Yasmina will see Younes (alone, or if you want with her brother or Aicha)?

Yasmina and her mom going to the supermarket and meeting Younes who’s there with his mother. Of course there would be a lot of staring between Yasmina and Younes, but also I would love to see him with his mom

Yasmina doesn’t feel like going out, but she’s been denying any invitations from her mom for the past few days and she can tell her mom is starting to worry and soon she’ll start her questions. And Yasmina doesn’t want to have to find an excuse as to why she’s been hiding in her room since Friday night. She spent the whole night crying, not only for Younes and Aïsha being more than friends but everything else, meeting them at the movie theater was just the last straw.

And then she was extremely tired yesterday for the whole day, not feeling like interacting with anyone, even though Elias still has to learn how to knock on a door and he may have sensed something was wrong when he bursted into her bedroom to get borrow some clean sheets because she forgot to put his ones to dry.

She adjusts her hijab around her ears, sitting at the edge of the seat to see herself closely, make sure the dark circles around her eyes are well hidden with the make up she put on.

“Yasmina?” Her mom knocks on the door and Yasmina checks the time while grabbing her phone to put inside her jacket. Her mom is a little early but she rushes to open the door with a smile, closing and locking the door behind her.

“Everything okay?” Her mom asks, clearly searching for any signs that something might be wrong, and Yasmina nods her head, walking to the door.

“Did Elias ask for anything?” She changes the subject, unlocking the door for them, waiting for her mom to join her outside.

“Of course, when does Elias not ask for food?” Her mom laughs quietly, walking next to her and Yasmina snorts. Elias always wants something. She clicks on her phone again because it’s like part of a routine now, to constantly check your social media at all times but Yasmina doesn’t even want to see anything on instagram or check if she got new messages.

Aïsha posted with Younes on Friday, and Yasmina almost deleted instagram from her phone. She and Younes were never a thing but she couldn’t help being mad at Aïsha for posting those photos when Yasmina told her about feelings she wasn’t even sure about. She didn’t trust Aïsha to tell, it just slipped out of her mouth that day but still. Aïsha heard her feelings pouring out and she still acted like she didn’t know a thing.

There’s some notifications from the groupchat with the girls and Yasmina rolls her eyes at that, thinking about Britt and her hot and cold behavior all the time, changing as quickly as the weather.

“So...how are your friends?” Her mom asks, and Yasmina tries not to get defensive and actually tell her mom about them, some of them, at least.

“Luca invited me to go out for lunch today but I didn’t feel like it. I’ll probably have to go to Robbe’s this week to do some homework. We have to watch an old movie for a class…”

“Do you know the title? Maybe I know it.”

Yasmina shakes her head, laughing and meaning it while thinking about how carried away her mom can get with her opinions about movies.

“Robbe has the notes so I don’t know the title.”

Her mom nods her head slowly, pressing her lips together.

“Robbe is…?”

“The one we saw a few weeks ago with his boyfriend.” Yasmina looks at her, not able to keep one more worry to herself. “You didn’t like them.”

Her mom stops before they enter the grocery store.

“I didn’t say anything!”

Yasmina rolls her eyes at that, ignoring the deathly look her mom gives her as a warning.

“You didn’t have to say it, mom, I think they noticed how uncomfortable you were, and decided to walk away to avoid making you even more upset.”

Her mom sighs, following her inside the shop, grabbing a basket for them to put the groceries.

“You and your belgian friends…”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Mom, you don’t even know them. A puppy is literally more harmful than Robbe.”

“Robbe doesn’t understand you. It might seem at times that you live in the exact same reality but it’s not.”

“And I’m only allowed to be surrounded by people that understand me completely?”

Yasmina grabs the milk, carefully putting it inside the basket.

“No, but you’ll understand how it can be helpful once you have the right group.”

“Robbe is a good friend. He understands how annoying it is to study until your brain is fried, he understands about always wanting to get the best grades, he understands about liking to study just because. He understands about enjoying our teenage years, even with school. So it’s not everything, but it’s one thing that’s important to me that only he really gets the way I do.”

Her mom smiles, looking at her, not as judgmental as before.

“He seems nice.”

Yasmina exhales, not wanting to constantly be justifying herself and her choices to every single person.

“He is.”

Someone is walking down the same aisle and Yasmina stops talking, pretending to need to grab something at the top shelf when the other people passing by stop talking and she looks over her shoulder, finding Younes holding a basket, and an older woman next to him, smiling at Yasmina.

“Hi…” Younes starts, looking at her mom. Yasmina is not sure how her mom will react, if Elias has tried to talk to her to talk to their dad and let Younes inside their home again.

“Good morning.” Her mom nods her head at him, and smiles at the older woman.

“I’m sorry, we just moved to this neighborhood and I can’t seem to find where the spices are.” She justifies, and Yasmina’s mom steps closer to take a look at her groceries list to see what they’re looking for exactly.

Yasmina meets Younes’ gaze but only for a brief second, and accidentally. She thought he had stopped staring already.

"How are you?” He asks quietly, and Yasmina keeps her eyes at their moms - she assumes it’s his mom based on the way she has hand carefully wrapped around his biceps.

“Good.”

Yasmina tries to think of anything else, some light and funny to keep her blood running normally inside her body, not making her blush, and to not remind her of what she was on Friday and how much she cried about it already.

Younes’ fingers are holding the basket tight, his knuckles going white as he squeezes the handle. He opens and closes his other hand slowly.

“How are you, Younes?” Her mom finally asks, making them both jump, and Yasmina sees his feet quietly moving a little bit back, away from her.

“I’m good, thank you...How’s everything?”

Yasmina looks at her mom, nodding her head and smiling at him, not as defensive or mad as her dad is about him.

“I’m sorry about my husband. But you’re welcome at our home.”

Yasmina frowns, would quietly squeeze her mom’s arm or gently kick her feet if they were close enough. The very last thing she needs is Younes back to visiting her home, her brother on the daily.

“I’ll talk to him, don’t worry.” Her mom adds, and Yasmina steals another glance at Younes, blushing, with his eyebrows as high as they can go, surprised by the news and his mom had to reassure him, right?

“I’m gonna go look for some new shampoos…” Yasmina walks away without saying goodbye, in desperate need to not be around Younes, needing to put it to good use the time away from him she has now that he’s allowed to go to her place again.

[vintagedolan]

mixtape | track ten

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

Indiana’s mental health class was in her first semester in the pre-med program. Abnormal Psychology, PSY 249, in a stuffy room in a building on the far side of campus. She’d hated it. College was supposed to be challenging, her program was supposed to be the most rigorous, and yet the class was a breeze. They went through condition after condition - depression, PTSD, anxiety, schizophrenia. The inner workings of the brain, the chemical imbalances, the medications that would help people come back to themselves. She passed the class with a 101%, stowed the knowledge in a seperate folder in her brain for safe keeping, and moved on at the end of the course. But she kept one piece of paper out, one piece of knowledge that didn’t make sense.

Voluntary Emotional Detachment. It was a relatively new idea in the world of psychology, seeing that many of its characteristics could fall under depression. That wasn’t what confused Indy. No, that came when her professor lectured on the voluntary portion. 

“Emotional Detachment is a useful tool sometimes, when it’s used purposefully. For example, if you have a toxic family member in your life, you may voluntarily emotionally detach yourself from them. It’s a defense mechanism, especially during times of trauma. You’ll find yourself numb, unable to feel even if you wanted to. It happens with loss sometimes as well, where you can’t feel the gravity of what you’re losing. Your mind knows what it can withstand, and sometimes, it pulls back. It shields you from the cruel world we live in. It protects.”

Indy had scoffed in her seat, so loud that her professor looked at her and frowned, which was enough to have her blushing red and keeping her head down as she scribbled notes for the rest of the class.

It was the one time she’d ever been reprimanded by an academic authority. Professor Upton pulled her aside before she could escape out of the lecture hall doors. 

“Ms. Cross. You seem like a bright girl, but I don’t appreciate the disrespect.”

“I’m very sorry professor, it won’t happen again.” Indiana had practically stumbled over the words to get them out, her palms sweaty on her backpack strap as she held it on her shoulder.

Indy had a million explanations, but she knew that her professor didn’t care to hear them. And they were lies anyway. The true reason she’d scoffed was something she didn’t want to share.

It was because her professor had made it seem so easy, to just turn it off. Emotionally pull the plug, to sever your ties to someone.

She’d scoffed because if her brain had the capability, and it hadn’t moved to protect her when her mother died, shielded her from the aftermath of unimaginable pain that she’d endured, she wasn’t so sure that she was at all intelligent after all. 

But she understood why now. 

It was because her mother dying had made sense.

Not in the grand scheme of things. Not in a karma driven universe - there was no justifying losing a light as bright as Nicole Cross in a world that had checks and balances, a world that cared. 

But physically, it had made sense. 

Nicole’s cancer started in her pancreas. Stage III when they found it. 13.3% survival rate. And it spread like wildfire. Indiana threw herself into her books, looked for anything, some medical breakthrough that someone had missed. She looked into drug trials, she looked into synthetic pancreas research. All the while, her mother’s cancer took over cell by cell, multiplied and multiplied the way cells are built to. And when it reached her brain, it took over her brainstem. 

When it got to that point, Indiana heard the four words that she would never forget.

“She’s done. We’re done.”

They had echoed out, bouncing off the bleached linoleum, making a cold room even colder. Her father’s voice had never sounded so unfamiliar, and she was glad that her mother was sedated when she broke down. There was no detachment, only raw, searing pain unlike anything she had ever experienced. She sunk to the floor, ragged sobs finally breaking free when she realized what she’d known was coming was finally happening.

The fight was over. It was time to let go. 

Charlie hadn’t cried. No, Charlie stood still as stone in the corner of the room, eyes unblinking as she stared at the shell of her mother in her hospital bed and willed it to be a dream, a nightmare that she would finally wake up from. 

And then, she remembered where she was. She remembered who she was. And she picked her little sister up off the floor and held her in her arms, like she always had when Indiana was hurting.

 Without the vital cues from that little piece of Nicole’s brain telling them to, her heart stopped beating and her lungs stopped asking for air, and she died. 

And it made sense.

This didn’t make sense. His words made no sense.

There was no one to hold Indiana Cross now, and she had a new set of four words that would haunt her.

“I can’t do this.”

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

Six days. Grayson’s thoughts ate him alive for six whole days. He lived through the odd limbo that the world seemed to find itself in on the days between Christmas and New Years. A pause in the spin on the axis, a time to reflect on everything the year had brought, and what the next one had to offer.

Even in his daze, Grayson could only remember one other December he’d tried to hold onto so hard. 

His father’s face was at the forefront of his mind, but not the images that he wanted to see. All he saw was a look of disappointment in his eyes with each hour that Grayson’s lips stayed pressed together while Indiana rested, oblivious in his arms. He towed the selfish line of wanting to enjoy the last days he had with her while his guilt threatened to drown him with every breath he dared to take. He hid it well, as he always did when he really needed to. They had their date nights, with movies and postmates since he still didn’t want her out in public with him. They stayed in the tiny house again to enjoy nature, snuck into Jet’s a few times. He smiled when he was supposed to, went through the motions that were expected of him. It had worked for him before, for videos, for time with friends when all he wanted to do was sit in his room and speak to no one. The only person he could never fool was Ethan, who kept his distance, but stayed close enough to keep his eyes on him. He thought he had everyone but his twin fooled.

But Indiana noticed. Indiana always noticed. 

Nicole had called it the curse of intelligence when she was younger. 

“Sometimes,” she’d said. “When you know too much about how the world works, how people work, you see things you aren’t supposed to. You understand things you aren’t supposed to.”

Indiana was 12 at the time, sitting on the other side of the kitchen table. 

“What do you mean mom? How can you know too much?”

“You’ll know one day. You’ll see.”

The way she’d said it made Indy sit her fork down, her stomach suddenly tight. 

And now she’d seen.

On New Years Eve, Indiana Cross leaned in to kiss her boyfriend as the clock struck midnight, on her couch in her apartment, with her picture frames on the shelf over their heads and the sound of fireworks outside her window.

Grayson didn’t lean in. 

He leaned back, and he spoke.

“I can’t do this.” 

Indiana took a breath. In. Out. Filled her lungs and emptied them again.

She’d noticed. But she hadn’t let herself believe it. She’d pushed every little nuance she’d seen, every time that Grayson’s eyes didn’t catch the smile he tried to put on his face the last few days- she’d pushed it to the back of her mind and justified it. He was just worried about leaving, he was just stressed about Bekah like she was, he was just tired. She’d seen every sign and she’d justified it. 

She swallowed air, her throat painfully dry.

“What?”

“I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

Indiana did what she always did, what she’d always done her entire life when anything didn’t make sense, when anything went slightly off track. 

She tried to understand why. 

She racked her brain for everything that she’d done, every syllable she’d spoken, and every movement she’d made since that first day at Frazier outside, with him in his green pants on the bench, and her with two Jet’s coffee’s in her hands. 

Her fingers were cold as she pressed her hands together. There was a finality in his tone that had her chest tight, her ribs pressed together, muscles pushing on bones and squeezing everything until she felt like she was going to suffocate. She opened her mouth. 

“Oh.”

Grayson had his head in his hands, leaned over his knees on the couch. He shook in an unfamiliar way, like he was choking, and it took Indy a moment to realize that he was crying. 

She felt like she was in a dream, watching what was happening to her from the outside. It was like slow motion as she watched the girl on the couch curl in on herself, her walls reconstructing at ten times speed - he’d been so gentle with each brick that she didn’t even realize they’d been taken down. He spoke after a moment of heavy silence.

“I love you, but we can’t. I can’t do this to you.”

Her brain refused to process it, refused to even try to dissect it, and she spoke the only word she seemed to be able to find.

“Oh.”

“Indy I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, I should have said something sooner, I wanted to, I’m an asshole for waiting this long.”

She swallowed and wrung her hands together.

“When is your flight?”

His tears streamed faster somehow as he blinked.

“Tomorrow afternoon. We have meetings on the 2nd.”

In. Out.

“What time?”

Grayson looked up. Indiana was sitting straight up, head up high. The only thing moving were her hands, which she kept squeezing together over and over. It scared him, to see his once bubbly girl so still while his tears continued to fall. He couldn’t read her. 

“I’m not sure, I’d have to check. Dee, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She smiled her hospital smile, the one she used when she got bad news, and it was somehow worse than if she’d yelled at him.

“Indy.”

“It’s okay. C’mere, it’s okay.”

She opened up her arms for him, and she didn’t even seem to notice that they were shaking ever so slightly.

Grayson’s eyes were too blurry to see the quiver. He was fighting himself again, wagering whether sinking into her arms would only cause more damage in the long run. But he knew how it felt to be there, and he wagered that it would be worth whatever hellish guilt it was sure to bring later. So he leaned in, and just a single touch from her had him sobbing again. He pressed his face into her shoulder with so much force that she fell backwards a bit, and suddenly they were intertwined with him above her on the couch.

His pain was physical. She could feel it, in the way his body shook and paused when he tried to suck in a breath that his lungs desperately needed, the wet hot air soaking through her shirt with every exhale he choked out. His tears were warm, the salt already stiffening the fabric that soaked them up. Her hands found his back, and she lifted a finger to his skin before she paused. 

She didn’t know what to write anymore.

Instead, she moved her hand to his hair, scratching at his scalp, holding him steady. He was heavy against her and she closed her eyes, felt him there with her, took in the weight of him. 

“Shhhh. It’s okay.” We’re okay. “You’re okay.”

Her words only made Grayson cry harder when he realized what she was doing. He came back to himself for a moment when he realized that all the shaking wasn’t him. He could feel the way she held onto him and shook, so subtle that he could tell she was fighting it. His stomach churned at the thought of how bad her pain must be if it was causing a reaction in her body, and he moved to push himself up.

“Indy.”

She clung to him, panic breaking through the protective numbness that had taken hold so quickly. If it was the last time she was going to get to hold him, she’d hoped it would have lasted just a bit longer. 

But she took a deep breath and she let him go, forced her arms to release him.

It hurt worse to see his face again, see the pain in his puffy eyes. She reached back out for him, swiped her thumb across his cheek to catch a tear. Her fingers got distracted in the feeling of his scruff, and she scratched over it for a moment, indulging herself, willing herself to remember the way it felt on her fingertips.

“It’s okay.” It was a reflex to her, and she couldn’t stop herself from saying it.

“It’s not though. Indy, it’s not okay. I’m hurting you.”

She didn’t have a response to that. Her eyes fell to her lap, picking at her fingernails. 

“I’ll be okay.” It was a lie, but she would have said anything to bring some of the light back to his eyes. Her pain she could manage, but his was her breaking point.

“Please don’t do that. Please don’t pretend on this.” He brought in a shaky breath, blowing it out quickly.  

In. Out.

“What do you want me to do?” 

“I want you to scream. I want you to be pissed at me, I want you to be mad that I waited this long to tell you! You haven’t even asked why,” he cried. Indy wondered for a moment why it always hurt more to see boys cry. It seemed to be more painful for them somehow - heavier. 

“I think I know why.” 

He sat up a bit more at her words. Waiting.

“It was a chance thing, you being here. Us meeting. Your life is entirely different than mine, and you have your people in LA. There’s… I mean there’s plenty of girls there who don’t have the stuff I have. Class, work -” Her voice cracked at the end, Grayson’s outline blurring just a bit as she looked up.

“No. No no no, hey,” he stopped her, hands hovering over her for a moment before he gave in and rested them on her arms, holding her without fully pulling her in. “It’s not that. I promise you, it has nothing to do with anyone else. I want you, I don’t want anyone else. But I know you, and your dreams are here, and I’m not gonna take that away from you.”

Indiana’s confusion only grew. She’d only heard one thing he’d said.

“You want me?” Her voice sounded pitiful, even to own ears. 

“Of course I do.” He spoke it like it was the only possible truth, and a flicker of hope rose in her gut, fighting it’s way up. “Indy of course I do.” 

“Then… why?” 

“Remember when we went to LA?”

His words brought back a flood of memories. The two of them kissing in the ocean, the secret beach, sleeping in his bed with his green wall, piggyback rides around the house, the late night Cudi drives.

“Yeah.”

“You remember how much you hated it there? How bad you wanted to come back home? And what did I promise you?”

Indy couldn’t find her voice. Her brain was otherwise occupied, watching her memories being drug through dark ink, staining them. 

“I promised you I would never ask you to leave New York.” He finished it for her. “And I meant it. But I can’t stay here Indiana, no matter how bad I want to.”

“Your life is in LA.” She repeated her words from earlier, monotone and unattached. Her heart fought with her, begged her to tell him everything. Tell him that she was going to start working at Jets and start therapy so she could fly out to see him. Tell him that she was halfway through her UCLA application essay that she’d been working on on nights he fell asleep before her. Tell him that she’d drop everything and follow him anywhere. 

“You’re the most giving person I’ve ever met. You give so much to everyone but yourself. But I’m not letting you give up your life for anyone, especially not me.”

She wanted to be mad that he assumed that she would. But there was an understanding, a sadness in his eyes that reminded her that he knew her better than she had ever realized. 

“We could make it work.”

He looked like he wanted to believe her. 

“You deserve someone who is here for you.”

“You’re here for me.” Her mouth was starting to outrun her mind, a dangerous game that she usually couldn’t stop once it had begun.

“You deserve someone who is here to celebrate your accomplishments every day, not someone in a different time zone on the other side of the country.”

“We could make it work.” It was more of a plea that time, and she saw it register across his face, the pain it caused him. 

“Indy.” 

“People do long distance all the time, we could do it.”

“We aren’t long distance people,” he said, but Indy’s mind was already running.

“We could set up a facetime schedule, and you wouldn’t have to visit that much, I’ll be busy with school anyways. And if we hate it, then we can stop. We just have to try, we’re never gonna know unless we try it.” 

Grayson was silent for a minute, which was enough of an answer. He’d known this was coming. Ethan had warned him that it would happen, that Indiana would try to reason her way through it. He’d told his brother that he had to be confident in his choice or he’d get swayed off course.

Grayson wasn’t sure he’d even be confident in his choice to remove himself from the best person he’d ever known. But knowing that in the long run it would be better for her was the only thing that let him cling to the last bit of resolve he had. 

“Indy.”

Her lip quivered, and he felt his heart crack. 

“Please,” she said.

“C’mere. Just c’mere.”

It wasn’t a surrender, but an offering of comfort. Indy knew it would hurt her later, but she didn’t have the willpower to resist it. She crawled into his lap, and the last of the numbness that had started faded away. In his familiar arms, she lost her last semblance of control.

She crumpled into his shoulder, broken sobs shaking her frame as she clung to him, let him hold her as she wrapped herself around him, as if it would somehow make him stay. 

He rocked her as she sobbed, accidentally pressing a kiss to her shoulder before he realized what he was doing. It was torture in the rawest form, worse than he could have expected to be the cause of her pain. 

“I’m so sorry Indy, I’m so sorry,” he whispered to her over and over, hoping she believed him. She pressed her face against his neck to keep her eyes closed, pretending for a moment that everything was fine.

“I love you.” 

The tears returned to his eyes, and in a moment of weakness he turned and pressed a kiss to her hair, her temple. His lips had missed her. 

“I love you too Indiana Cross.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

Her finger traced against his back. F-O-R-E-V-E-R. She wished she could erase it somehow when his breath caught in his throat again. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and he shook his head.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” His voice was muffled by her skin, seeing that he was unwilling to lean back from her.

“I know this is hurting you too,” she said, and was met with the feeling of more of his tears on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“The only thing you did was make me love you too much. Don’t be sorry for that.”

The way her heart squeezed wasn’t natural, and though she knew the phenomenon wasn’t as everyone said, she was sure it skipped a beat in her chest. She squeezed him tighter to her, like she had so many times. She synced her breathing to his, laid her head on his shoulder, committed the sound of his heartbeat to memory. 

Their tears dried out over the next hour, the numbness of acceptance starting to blanket over them. Neither of them dared to move a muscle, Grayson especially. All he did was rub his hand over her back, up and down the same as he had been since she climbed into his lap. They both knew that moving would mean having to figure out what to do next. 

It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. Indy wasn’t sure, and she was scared to look at a clock, to see her fleeting time left with him wasting away.

“Did you pack your bag already?” Her voice was too loud even though it was barely above a whisper, pulling them back into the reality they wanted to avoid.

“Yeah. It’s at home.” 

Indy could see it in her head, his Jersey room, quiet and waiting for him with his orange duffle on the bed. But her stomach filled with a wave of nausea as she realized what it meant.

“So you have to go home.” 

Grayson’s hand paused on her back. She was holding her breath.

“I… I didn’t know if you would want me to stay.” It was the first time he could remember not knowing what to say to her. 

Her arms tightened around him, her breathing getting a little bit more ragged. He ran his hands over her back quickly, desperate to soothe her.

“Shh, shh hey, I’m staying. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yet.” She whispered, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he flinched. “Sorry, that was harsh.”

“Not undeserved,” he said, turning and resting his cheek against her shoulder. “I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have. So whatever you need, I’ll give it to you.”

Indy sat up. Her eyes had settled a bit, her tears washing the jellyfish blue into a shade of navy that Grayson didn’t recognize. It made his breath catch in his chest. 

“Whatever I need?”

“Whatever you need.” 

She looked at him, and her head tilted to the side just slightly. A small smile tried to make its way to her face, but her lips quivered. 

“Could you kiss me?” 

He paused, watching her fight off her tears with a deep breath. 

“Is that what you need?” 

“Just… just one. I didn’t know, you know. That the last one was gonna be the last one. And we’re here, and I just thought, that maybe - ” 

He kissed her. For the first time, he was hesitant. He kept his hands to his sides, not wanting to push anything too far, not wanting to make anything worse somehow. Indy barely reacted either, too nervous to do something wrong. 

They pulled back from each other, breathing shallow, nerves taking over as they tried to figure out what to do. 

“Thank you,” Indiana said. 

Grayson swallowed hard, watched her eyes as they flickered between his own. 

And then they were kissing. Really kissing, chasing the taste of each other like air at the end of a sprint. His hands went to her face, holding her to him as her hands went to his torso, bunched up his shirt and tried to pull him into her, closer somehow despite the fact that they were already touching everywhere that they could be. The desperation was palpable, in the way their hands roamed and fell back into their familiar patterns. Indy sucked in the first real breath she’d taken in since the clock had struck midnight, breathed him in as best she could, trying to lose herself in him like she always had. But her mind wouldn’t shut off, reminding her that it could really be the last time she had him like this. 

He felt her tears, first on his thumb that was holding her cheek, and then against his own skin. It took all his willpower to pull back from her lips. She let him, her breathing shaky as she tucked her face back down into his neck.

He picked her up effortlessly, standing up from the couch and moving them to her room. The Cudi vinyls seemed to mock him, especially when he laid down and stared up at them on their small shelves. Indy didn’t move an inch, staying wrapped around him, laying on top of him when he rested back against the pillows. 

Time moved quickly, and Indy still avoided the clocks, scared to see what had already passed. 

Grayson wanted to hear her voice. Wanted her to talk to him, wanted to commit every single thing she said to memory, but he wouldn’t ask. She had given him enough. 

He closed his eyes, focused on the feeling of her fingers over his shirt, tried to make out what shapes she was drawing like he always did. He felt her hands travel up higher, up his neck to his skin, scratching over his beard.

Her fingertips were gentle as they moved up, over his lips, around his cheek to his eyelids, down over his nose, then to the other side of his face. She traced the pattern a few times, and Grayson waited until she was on his nose to speak.

“What’re you drawing?”

“You,” she said. “Memorizing.”

He didn’t know how he still had more tears to make, but they started to fall anyways, down the side of his face over his temples. 

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say.

“I know. I wish you could stay just a little bit longer.” 

“Me too.”

He traced a heart on the back of her arm.

“I love you too.”

The truth of it was, she didn’t know how to not love him, and that was the scary part of it all. She couldn’t imagine a world where she didn’t love him with everything she had in her. 

She didn’t know who she was without it anymore.

“If you ever change your mind, I’ll be here you know,” she said. He took in a deep breath, pressing a kiss to her hair. 

“I’m not gonna do that.”

Her heart sank.

“That’s not fair,” he said. “I can’t ask you to do that, to wait for me. I’m not going to string you along, that’s cruel. Once I’m back in LA, I want you to move on.”

Indy shook her head against him, burying her face in his chest. 

“No.”

“Indy.”

“No.” Her brain refused to process it, to imagine a single scenario where she felt anything good without Grayson by her side. She knew it wasn’t healthy, and she vowed to never tell anyone but in that moment, she reserved herself to be miserable every minute that she wasn’t with him. 

“I know it’s not gonna be easy, but you deserve to be happy. And I’m sorry that I’m gonna make that harder, but you’ll find somebody who can love you better than I do.”

“Does that mean you’re going to just move on when you get back to LA? Just forget about me?” There was a spite in her voice that she didn’t like hearing in her own voice. But Grayson didn’t flinch. It was almost reliving to him. He was getting what he deserved, what he’d earned for breaking her heart. 

Her anger meant she cared.

“Indiana I’m never going to forget you. If you think I could, I was an even worse boyfriend than I thought.”

“No, don’t do that.” She pushed off his chest and sat up. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to make me think that the last three months were bad. That’s the last thing I have to hold onto. Those were the best months of my life, you don’t get to take that.” 

Grayson didn’t have an answer. 

“Okay.”

“You made this decision for the both of us, I don’t get a say in it. So I’ll hold onto it as long as I fucking want to. You don’t get to tell me I have to move on.”

“Okay.” 

“Okay then,” Indy said, reaching up to wipe a tear away. She sucked in a breath and pushed it out through shaky lips, trying to hold herself together.

“Sorry.”

Grayson shook his head. “Indiana you can be mad at me. You should be mad at me.”

“I am mad at you.” 

She knew it wasn’t in the way that he meant. Because she wasn’t mad that he’d broken up with her. Because deep down, under all the pain and all the love and all the worry, she knew he was doing it for her. He was doing what she would never have the guts to do, even if it was the right thing.

No, she was mad at him for infiltrating every single part of her. Every thought, every muscle, every cell of her body contained him. Every hope she had for her future was molded around him. He was there in everything. His curls were in the dreams she had about her future children. His smile in the back of her mind every time she closed her eyes. His eyes, bright and green, always there.

“Do you want me to leave?” There was no malice in his tone, only genuine concern. 

She pondered it for a moment. Thought about what it would look like, for him to actually walk out the door and never come back through it.

“No.” 

“Okay. Then I’ll stay.”

“I can drive you to the airport. So Ethan doesn’t have to come into the city.”

“Okay. I’ll tell him.”

“Okay.” 

They stared at each other for a moment, staying very still, waiting for one of them to make a decision. 

“We should probably sleep.” Grayson checked his watch. “It’s 4am.”

“Okay.”

Another pause. Another moment of uncertainty that they’d never had to navigate.

“Do you want me to take the couch?”

She shook her head, and with a sigh, she gave in. Grayson could finally breathe again when she settled against him, pushing her hand up under his shirt, running her fingers over his ribs. He wrapped her up in his arms tightly, focused on the feeling of the weight of her on him.

And he closed his eyes. 

His alarm went off at 9:45. As soon as it sounded, Indy turned her face into his chest, a new wave of tears coming forward as the realization hit her

It was time to let go.

He just held her and kissed her head for as long as he could. She didn’t know if she’d slept. If she had, it was only for a few moments. She’d kept waking up, reminding herself that he was still there. 

They barely spoke. No one ate breakfast. He hadn’t brought a change of clothes, and parts of his shirt were stiff from the saltwater of both their tears. It took all the strength he had to keep it together when he closed the apartment door behind him for the last time. 

She took his hand in the elevator, and his tears fell, making his cheeks even colder when they walked outside. It felt odd, for him to climb into the passenger seat with her in the driver’s as they continued down the road. His mind was flooded with memories, with doubts. He couldn’t stop picturing the smile that would spread across her face if he told her that he’d changed his mind, that they could try. 

He fought it, kept his mouth shut, reminded himself that this was his decision and he had to deal with the repercussion of it. 

Indy was quiet too, evidence of her earlier decision to not hurt him anymore than she already had. She didn’t want to make it any harder on either of them. No matter what, she still loved him, and she didn’t like to see him hurting. She kept herself superficially distracted, focused on the colors of the cars that passed, and the number of the exits on the highway. 

The airport had never come quicker.

Grayson’s chest tightened when they pulled off. He couldn’t ignore it anymore, couldn’t push it down and stay strong like his dad had always told him to. An image of him hugging her goodbye over her console came to his mind, and he panicked.

“Would you want to come in? Like park and come in? I know you hate airports, and you can say no. But… I’d like to give you one last good hug before I go.” 

She merged into the lane that led to the parking as her tears began to fall. He ran his thumb over her hand until they got out. They found each other again behind the car, Indy linking her arm around his and holding on as tight as she could as they walked. She was ten times more anxious than the last time she had walked into an airport, her usual pertifying fear of Grayson being on a plane the least painful part. 

It was hard to keep her sobs quiet but she bit them back as best she could. Grayson heard them, shifted so he had his arms wrapped around her as they walked. Her eyes were blurry with tears but she noticed the bright yellow and orange bags before she spotted Ethan. He gave her a sad smile that she did her best to return. From the look of pity in his eyes, it was even worse than she thought. 

Her vision was obscured by Grayson, who moved in front of her. She clung to the front of his jacket with both hands, unable to look him in the eyes. She didn’t know if she could handle it. 

“I don’t want you to go,” she whispered, tears so full that they dripped off her chin and onto her shirt. 

“I’m so sorry.” His own eyes burned as he watched her. But her next words caused the worst pain he’d felt in a long time.

“Can we have a redo?” As her voice shook, his last barrier fell, and he was sobbing - the kind you try to choke back and keep quiet as he crushed her against him, burying his face in her hair.

“Not this time baby. Not this time.” 

They weren’t sure how they could cry harder, but they did. He swayed as he held her, tight and warm. Ethan wiped his own tears away with his jacket sleeve as he checked the boarding time on the tickets. 

“I love you. So much,” she said. 

“I love you too. I’m so sorry. If you ever need me... “ he trailed off, unsure if his offer would only hurt them both more down the road. She understood what he meant, and she took a deep breath. In. Out. 

“Right now, I need you to turn around, and I need you to walk away, or I’m never going to be able to let you go.” 

“Okay.” 

He didn’t move. She finally looked up at him and held herself together, determined to look at his face in person for the last time without the distortion of tears. 

“Take care of yourself, okay? Be safe. Be happy. I’m always gonna love you.” Her voice was as steady as she could make it, and that somehow hurt him worse. 

“Forever,” he whispered, and then he was kissing her. He wrapped her up in his arms as tightly as he could, held her to him until he forced himself away, only keeping a hold of her hand. 

Ethan, always in tune with his brother, seemed to recognize his cue. 

Indy nodded and squeezed his hand one more time, and then she let him go, their fingers tracing over one anothers until they fell away, the distance too much.

A numbness spread over her body as soon as he let her go, and she watched from her spot as he disappeared down the hallway and into the security line.

She didn’t remember getting back to her car. But somehow, she managed to crawl inside and lock the doors before she crumpled forward onto her steering wheel.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Fight

CW: Ableism against a child, references to attempted noncon/assault of a survivor, religious references to the Bible, conditioning, trauma recovery, trauma response

TIMELINE: Immediately post-Creepy Pet Lib Guy. Links in piece.

She hears his footsteps, the soft motion of him through the living room and into the den, where a single lamp is on in the corner on the side table next to the old couch Paul never could bear to throw out. Ronnie doesn’t look over at him, instead picking at a bit of duct tape affixed over a ripped spot while sipping her beer straight from the bottle.

There’s a show on the television - they have a new one finally, but Ronnie’s never thrown out a damn thing that wasn’t broken just because it got replaced and she’s not about to start now, so she moved it in here - but she’s not watching it. Not even sure what the show is, only that the laugh track is tinny and never seems timed to the moments of actual humor. 

The house is mostly silent, this late at night. There’s no sound but the occasional gurgle from the ice machine in the fridge, the soft hum of electronics that she never notices except when the power goes out, and then only because of its sudden absence. 

No sound but the television’s off-key laughter and the footsteps of her son, creeping up behind her. 

“Mommy?” His voice is so high and soft, fuzzy with sleepiness, and she turns with a tired smile to see him dragging his favorite blanket behind him along the floor. It’s a quilt she bought at a church’s Christmas market when he was two, and it had buttons sewn in with the patches, giving the cats the quilt is decorated with three-dimensional button eyes. 

His face is rounded and so like his father’s, even so, his face and eyes and his hair are all Paul’s, through and through. He’s an echo, a clone of his father, in a lot of ways… up to and including navigating a world that has already labeled him as difficult, and he’s only six years old.

“Hey, baby. What are you doing up?” She’s twenty-three with a six year old son, and doesn’t that seem strange, some days? So many of her friends from high school are still out until dawn, posting photos of their drunken shenanigans on Facebook, and here Ronnie sits… twenty-three, with a husband who works nights, and a six-year-old son whose teacher calls him hopeless, right to his fucking face.

“I, I, I had a bad dream,” He says, and his eyes are so, so big in his small round face. Paul’s eyes are like that, big and green and soulful. She’d fallen into them, her junior year, and she’d never wanted to climb back out. No matter that her friends thought he was weird, no matter that yeah, okay, he is weird - he’s her kind of weird, and she and Paul understood each other right from the start. 

“Oh, no.” She pats the couch cushion beside her and he clambers almost eagerly up to tuck himself in beside her. Her throat nearly closes as he carefully spreads his blanket out to cover them both, the simple gesture of care and love. How do you look this boy in the eyes and tell him he can’t do something? “What was your bad dream about, do you want to tell me?”

“Monsters,” He says, as if that single word relays all the information she could possibly need. Maybe it does, really - at least the monsters her son dreams about are easier to vanquish than the ones Ronnie has to help him learn how to face on his own as he grows.

“Good thing I monster-proofed this house before we moved in,” Ronnie teases. She moves her arm around his shoulders and he smiles, faintly, eyes closing as he leans his head against her collarbone, his ear right where he’s always wanted it, ever since birth - over her heart. Listening to her heartbeat. Sure enough, his fingers find their way to her stomach and start to tap in time with it, and Ronnie sips her beer again.

“Monsters aren’t, aren’t, aren’t real, actually,” He says, speaking quietly and without opening her eyes, and Ronnie thinks if her six-year-old well, actuallys her one more time… she read all the parenting books and has a whole shelf of parenting memoirs she’s picked up and not a single one mentioned that little kids are fucking know-it-alls. Not one.

“Well, if they’re not real, then why are you buggin’ Mommy at midnight because of dreaming about them, huh?” She keeps her voice light and affectionate, just this side of teasing. Tristan doesn’t react well to any kind of perceived anger or rejection, moping for a day or more around while his brain tries to process that she didn’t stop loving him just because he did something that bothered her. Tris as a toddler broke her heart more than once with terrified insistence that you, you, you don’t even like me anymore after time-outs or discipline.

He’s just being manipulative, her mother had said once, but Ronnie knew better. 

He’s three years old, Mom. He’s not trying to manipulate me, he’s scared.

He’s just doing what works, Veronica, you can’t always give in to it.

Mom. He is a little boy. Do you realize how you sound?

Now his teacher is repeating the same tired circular logic that cycles round and round her son without ever seeing him. Ronnie is staring down the barrel of another round of meetings, talking to administrators to try and get around the teacher’s rigidity and hostility, arguing for Tris to get moved into a new class, and all the while he’ll fall further and further behind in his in-class work - while at home he rockets through the homeschooling workbooks she buys, a six-year-old already doing second-grade reading and writing work, first-grade math, obsessed with a kid show about science that they have to watch every single day or he has seriously informed her he might die.

The knowledge is there, and his love of learning hasn’t been throttled by school yet, and Ronnie can’t do anything but try to work within a system that tells her that her son needs to be changed or cured in order to not be kept locked away from everyone else.

Monsters are pretty fucking real, in Ronnie’s experience. 

One day her son will have to learn that all the monsters are human beings.

God, she’s so tired of fighting, and so very aware that she’s not going to stop until the whole damn world remakes itself to give space for Tristan, until the world deserves how unreservedly her son loves it.

She takes another drink, then sets the beer bottle carefully down on the coaster - she ordered them last year, and they all have little stylized drawings of the three of them on it, faceless sketches of a man, a woman, a child - man and child red-headed, woman with brown hair. 

When she’d gotten the positive pregnancy test, right before Thanksgiving her junior year, she’d thrown up and cried for a week and been sullen and silent at the holiday table, trying to figure out what to do next.

But Paul had never hesitated. When she told him, his response had been to go home to his dad and ask to start working part-time with the Garden, running packages he never looked into, playing lookout outside of bars while the Garden met inside. His first pay - cash handed to him in an envelope - he’d spent some of it on a onesie, a baby blanket, and a stuffed puppy with fur so soft Ronnie could barely stand the fluff. 

Then he’d spent some more on ginger chews and ‘Preggo Pops’, lollipops that were supposed to help with Ronnie’s morning sickness, and three books on pregnancy for her and one book on becoming a dad for him. 

Paul did what Paul always did - took one look at a cliff he had to cross and simply leapt headfirst and hoped for the best. That impulsiveness that she loved and that had gotten him in so much trouble in life, the enthusiasm that carried her long with it.

There are monsters in the world, Ronnie thinks, running fingers through her son’s fine, soft hair. But there are people who help you fight the monsters, too. Even if the monster is just the stares from other students at school as her stomach grew, the way her friends’ parents stopped letting her come to their houses, the thin-lipped disapproval of the principal handing her a high school diploma as she half-waddled across the stage, refusing to be shamed, engagement ring on her finger. Even if the monster is a world that tries to shove her son into boxes that he can’t fit into, or a teacher who sends him home in tears convinced he’s too stupid to learn anything.

Her jaw sets.

Veronica Higgs has been headstrong since birth, and she’s never made a decision she didn't follow through on. Never turned away from a fight. She’s not about to start now, not when it’s her son.

Ronnie has never turned away from the sweet baby that had looked at her with such dark-eyed seriousness when he was born, the infant who cried for reasons Ronnie couldn't’ fathom, the toddler who screamed that the lights at Target hurt his skin, the little boy who lined up dinosaurs and cars and toy horses in perfect color gradients, the boy who rocks in her arms and hums when he’s happy, the boy she hopes will one day be able to live on his own without her, because…

Because if only Paul and Ronnie are going to fight for him, then they’re going to have to be a fight so fierce that everyone else can’t possibly hold out against them.

The doctors said he might not talk - and he talks a mile-a-minute, about any-fucking-thing that comes into his mind. They said he wouldn’t make friends easily, but he goes on sleepovers with his gymnastics buddies, just went to a party at Chuck E. Cheese with a little preparation so he wasn’t scared of the games and lights and noise when he got there. They said he would struggle in school, and-

Well, he does. But only because of the adults who refuse to understand that Tris learns just fine… if you let him listen in his own way.

“Hey, Tris?” She smiles down at him and he turns those big green eyes up to her. There’s a chapped spot on his lower lip that looks like he might have messed with it until it opened into a sore, and she reminds herself to get some vaseline on it. “You want to stay here with me for a bit? We’ll watch one of your shows, and then back to bed. How’s that sound?”

He smiles at her, and nods a little, still tapping along to her heartbeat. “Oh, oh, okay, Mom. Can, can, can… can-can… can we watch Dino King?”

“Yeah, sure.” Ronnie hates that show, but really - he loves it, and it’s one night, and she could use the way his open, brilliant happiness helps her forget that he’s going to have to work harder and harder to hold onto it as he grows.

She picks up the remote, brings up the menu, switches to a streaming network, and listens to the grating, familiar theme song start to play as her son’s eyes move contentedly to the screen. 

He watches the show, but he never takes his head away from her heartbeat.

---

Natalie Yoder has had easier nights than this one, that’s for fucking sure. She leans over the kitchen table, papers spread out in front of her, trying to figure out where they went wrong. This is one of their biggest grants, it’s a bit of funding that she has always relied on, and… denied approval for the upcoming fiscal year. 

Thousands of dollars she needs to feed and clothe and house her rescues, gone up in smoke, denied with a bloodless email and no ability to fight back, not for this one. Not this year. It could be a simple error, something she overlooked, sure. Or maybe the association that gives out the grants is suspicious of her story about transitioning homeless people into permanent housing, which really is exactly what she’s doing, isn’t it?

Just… not the kind of homeless people the grant givers are imagining.

She’ll have to call Vince to beg for him to help her fill in the gap, and that will mean time for him to speak with his finance guy and get another couple of shell companies to funnel the money through so it doesn’t go back to him. He’ll give it to her, to be sure - Vince could give her the money to run this place flat out for the rest of his life and still be one of the wealthiest men in America, thanks to his low-key lifestyle and strong work ethic meaning he spends more time filming or producing than he does doing anything else.

Nat knows why Vince doesn’t want to be home, to sit up alone with a bottle or a glass in his hand. She knows his work ethic is simply escaping the demons that will never stop haunting his footsteps, what he traded away for his success, what he lost, what the money and fame can protect him from but can’t remove the stamp of it already written over his soul.

He’s famous, and rich, and Owen Grant can’t touch him now… but the tradeoff of Vince’s survival was that some innocent kid was abducted and turned, through drugs and torture and horrifying assault, into Kauri.

Kauri, who hasn’t answered the phone or sent a text in a week.

Not since that fucking group meeting where Chris was assaulted and Kauri stood up for him. Not since Kauri’s intuition that Kyle had some less-than-savory interest in Chris had proven correct, because… it wasn’t intuition at all.

It was experience. 

Nat groans, rubbing her hands over her face, closing her eyes and reminding herself, teeth ground together, to try and stay calm. It’s not unusual for Kauri to disappear for a while, a week or more. It’s not a sign that something is wrong. He was hurt by Nat pushing him, he needs time to think. 

He’ll pop right back up again, smiling like nothing happened, like he isn’t giving Nat gray hairs (well, new ones, anyway) trying to tell herself he’ll be okay.

All she can do is trust that he’ll come back when he’s ready.

... and castigate herself for letting that fucking predator get close to Chris without picking up on what he was planning, and for not realizing Kauri wasn’t just being overprotective of a younger rescue, but - in his own way - waving giant red flags that Nat, and Jake, and everyone else just didn’t see.

That, and then losing the grant, have made for one hell of a fucking week.

Nat takes deep breaths. Her hands smell like dish soap and a hint of the roasted garlic she’d put in the soup for supper lingering. The kitchen still smells like the garlic, roasted parsnips and rosemary. Chris had never had parsnips before-

Not that anyone knows if he really hasn’t or not.

“Oh, Nat, you are a mess tonight,” She mutters to herself. “Just full-on moping, huh? That’s how we’re gonna play it?”

Then she hears the soft scrape of a foot on the tile and looks up, blinking, to see Chris in the doorway, leaning against the wood of the frame, the big purple fuzzy blanket she’d gotten him a few weeks back wrapped around his narrow shoulders, the hints of faded muscle that still linger there. Usually he’s draped in Jake’s clothes but tonight he’s only wearing his basketball shorts, no shirt at all.

The rare glimpse of so much of Chris’s skin - she hasn’t seen so much of him since the night he arrived in the pouring rain - tells Nat more than anything else that Chris isn’t okay, either. 

“Hey, Chris. What’s up, sweetheart?” Nat glances over at the oven, squinting at the clock, and then groans. “Jesus, it’s nearly 2 am. I lost track of time, I guess.”

Chris doesn’t move from the doorway, not at first. He’s gone quiet again, since the assault, regressing back into periods of stillness and silence that they were so sure he’d gotten past. Jake says he’s testing again, trying to push Jake and Antoni into repeating the patterns that were tortured into his mind as normal, reacting with relief at their rejections - and then testing again, within hours, reminding himself that they’ll never say yes.

Nat looks at him, the shadows under his green eyes, and tries, “Did you have a nightmare?”

He slowly nods, and she watches his hands twist a little into the soft fabric of his blanket, rhythmically twisting to the side and back, nearly invisible with how well he can hide what he does to soothe himself, a skill taught in all the worst ways, learned in a desperate attempt to keep himself sane.

“Hm. I can see that. Was it about the meeting, the other night?”

His eyes dance away from hers, move to the ceiling, and he’s staring upwards at the rough texture up there as he nods, chewing on his lower lip with his top teeth, worrying at a spot that she knows he’ll eventually work to bleeding, sooner or later. He pauses and says, softly, “Kauri… didn’t come find me. That was, was my... my dream. And... it. It hurt.”

His voice, slow drips of speech, hits Nat like a knife to the heart. She nods, slowly, and pushes herself up, chair scraping back across the tile. Chris flinches minutely at the sound, curling a little into himself. “I understand, sweetheart,” She says, softly. “I’m so sorry we didn’t know sooner.”

She thinks, looking at him, of Daniel in the lion’s den, an old Bible story that’s never left her. Daniel trusted God and walked out unscathed, but she’s always thought maybe he wasn’t quite as unscathed as the Bible wants you to think he was. 

It’s one thing to have faith that you’ll survive being thrown in with monsters - it’s another to be so inhuman that you don’t wake with nightmares, for months or years after, that you were never saved at all. She is certain, deep down inside of her, that Daniel dreamed of a lion’s teeth and a promise broken, a prayer unheard.

The stories talk about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in a furnace walking out of the flames untouched, but of course the flames had still touched them. Scars aren’t always written openly on your skin. 

Of course they dreamed of flames scorching their skin, curling their hair, smoke stealing breath from their lungs. They, like Daniel, must have woken gasping, certain that their faith had been misplaced, that their trust that someone stood between them and the monsters who would destroy them had been betrayed.

They must have breathed, panting, in the middle of the night, and sworn they could still see the smoke in the air, feel the heat against their skin. 

They must have needed to come fully awake to remember - and believe - that they had been rescued. They must have needed the reminder.

Chris has no scars from walking with monsters - all his scars are inside his head. Chris’s scars come in his fear that she will not want him, that no one really wants him, when he can’t fight back or say no or defend himself, when he needs someone else to be his defense, to go to war. They come in his insistent, constant testing of Jake, pushing to see if it’s all been a lie, if they only want to use him the way he has been taught he is made to be used.

“Kauri was smarter than any of the rest of us,” Nat says, feeling suddenly exhausted. “We should have listened. I shouldn’t have had to step in. You deserved better.”

Chris deserves a fucking angel to lead him untouched out of the flames.

All he has is Jake - and Nat. 

She fills a saucepan with cold milk while he watches her, his eyes on her back a tangible, palpable weight, and pops a lid on, turning the dial until the flames flicker up from the burner to start heating it to a simmer. 

“I’m going to have hot chocolate the old fashioned way,” She announces, pulling down a bag with some discs of melting chocolate in it. They cost too much and mostly nobody notices the difference, but tonight… tonight, she thinks the extra effort is worth it. “You want whipped cream on yours, when it’s done?”

“Yes, please,” He whispers, and she looks over at him with a small smile. His hair is mussed still from sleep, a hint of red on his cheek where he must have had it pressed into a pillow. His freckles stand out in the thin light of the kitchen’s overhead light fixture. 

Next door, at Miss Ruth’s, a light turns on, and Nat glances through her own window to see it. Jaden, probably - that kid sleeps about as little as Chris does.

“Well, good, because I’m having some, too.” She pauses, leaning her back against the kitchen counter. There’s a long silence that draws out between them. The milk heats, bubbling just the tiniest bit around the edges in the saucepan, and Nat carefully drops in the chocolate discs to melt whisking until the liquid is a rich brown, thickened, ready for her to pour carefully into two mugs and top with the spray-bottle whipped cream she keeps in the fridge.

Nat sets the mugs down on the kitchen table, pulling Chris a chair up right next to hers. He relaxes a little at the tacit, silent request for closeness, drops into his chair with a slight smile playing over his face. He picks up the mug with both hands and takes a sip, getting whipped cream at the end of his nose, wiping it off with a scrunched-up expression that lifts some of the fatigue that dogs Nat’s muscles in the early-morning hours.

“I know the dreams are scary,” Nat says softly, reaching out to lay a hand on his back. He looks over at her, with those giant green eyes in his narrow face, searching for something in her. Maybe just for certainty that the promises she’s made to him will be kept. “But Kauri did come to help you. And you’re safe here, with us. We’ll always come for you, Chris, no matter what.”

He leans over, with slow inevitability, until the top of his head brushes against her neck, his head just at her collarbone. She lets her arm slide around his shoulders, her hand moving to run fingers slowly through his fine, soft coppery hair. “I, I, I forgot how to say no,” He whispers, and presses his head against her. 

“I know, honey. But that’s okay, we get back up and try again, right?” Nat sips her own hot chocolate slowly, and Chris holds his cupped warm in his palms, but even as he keeps taking sips, he doesn’t pull away from her. Eventually, he puts the mug back down on the table and shifts a little, so his ear is just over her heart.

“We, we, we try again,” He whispers. “But, but, but I don’t want to, to, to, I don’t-... want to be, um, to be scared again, to… have someone-”

“I know.” Nat swallows, her throat closing, briefly, but she fights it back and keeps her voice - and her hand through his hair - steady as she speaks. “There are going to be bad people out there, Chris, who want to hurt you. But you’re not alone.”

She thinks again of Daniel, waking from nightmares of gnashing teeth, maybe kicking off blankets and pacing a room, his skin written invisibly with the aftermath of a terror that never punctured skin. She thinks of three men in a fire, dreaming again and again that the fourth never arrived to lead them out of the flames.

She thinks of promises made, and kept. Prayers spoken in desperation, and answered, although so often far too late.

She thinks of the prayers for mercy, in the cold white rooms, that are never heard at all.

She’s tired, but she loves them - all of them, who have passed through her doors and gone on to other places - and she can’t imagine being anything but their army, their defense, the wall they can hide behind to rebuild themselves until they fight on their own. 

Not on their own, though, never really on their own.

She may never know what happened to him, to bring him here to her doorstep - but she knows that he doesn’t have to face the monsters, the flames, the danger alone. Not anymore.

“You’re safe here,” She says, gently, and turns her head to rest her chin on top of his head. “You’re safe here, and loved, and there’s nothing we won’t do to make sure you’re safe. Whatever comes at you, sweetheart, we’ve got you. And we’ll fight it for you, every time, until you can fight for yourself.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then he asks, in a whisper, “Do, do, do you you-you promise?”

“Promise, Chris. Cross my heart and hope-”

“Don’t-... don’t say the, the end of it.” His voice weakens. “Please.”

“Sorry, sweetie.” She tightens the arm around his shoulders a little, and feels him snuggle closer in response, a low sigh of relief at the reassurance in the embrace. “Swear on everything. I’ve got you, and Jake has got you, and we’re not gonna disappear. I don’t-... I don’t know if we can always save the day for you, Chris, but I can promise you that we will always try.”

He hums, eyes closing. One of his hands slides over her stomach, and begins - slight, soft, barely-there - to tap. 

It takes Nat a few seconds to realize that he is tapping along to the beat of her heart.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @endless-whump, @whumpfigure, @slaintetowhump, @astrobly  @newandfiguringitout  , @doveotions  , @pretty-face-breaker, @boxboysandotherwhump  , @oops-its-whump  @moose-teeth  , @cubeswhump  , @cupcakes-and-pain  @whump-tr0pes  @whumpiary  @orchidscript, @itallcomesdowntopain

[misscorn]

Day 5

Favorite Couple

Surprise, surprise my favorite couple is Ritsu and Masamune LMAO so let's keep the nostalgia going @sihjrweek (again if you haven't then read my previous entries for context ❤)

***

"I won't be able to hang out after school tomorrow." Ritsu said, currently dressing and desperately wishing that his Senpai would STOP staring at him. However, Saga was perfectly content to stay naked under his covers and watch Ritsu put on his clothes. Of course, the older teen would've preferred that Ritsu keep them off and spend the night, but it was a school night and Ritsu's mother wouldn't allow it.

"Why not?" Saga asked, sitting up. It had been almost two weeks since White Day, the jar of stars on Saga's nightstand, some of them obviously unfolded and refolded. Although Saga was still understandably irked about his boyfriend having a literal fiancée (even if Ritsu insisted she wasn't one) he spent as much time with Ritsu as he possibly could. That included hanging out in the library after class every day. Maybe Saga was becoming a little clingy or needy, but he didn't care.

"My parents want to spend the day with me tomorrow since it's my birthday." Ritsu shrugged. He had finished dressing and now he had moved on to trying to fix his hair.

"Tomorrow's your birthday? Why didn't you tell me it was coming up?!" Saga asked. He had no time to plan anything! He had no present, no cake, no way to celebrate!

"Honestly, I sort of forgot my birthday was coming up until my mom said something yesterday. It's not really something I ever think about." Ritsu said, not seeing what the big deal was.

Saga huffed. "Well, start thinking about it, moron. I want to do something with you for your birthday." He said. "Let's celebrate over the weekend."

Ritsu blushed, flattered by the unexpected offer. "W-We don't have to do something, Senpai. I'm happy just seeing you." He said.

Crap, why did he have to say such cute shit like that? It made Saga want to yank him right back into bed and kiss him breathless.

"You see me almost everyday. I wanna do something more special than that." Saga said. He didn't like that it wouldn't be on Ritsu's actual birthday, but at least it gave him a little more time to prepare. He watched as Ritsu opened his mouth to protest. "Please?" Saga spoke softly before the brunette even got the chance.

"O-O-Okay." Ritsu agreed, a little caught off guard by the gentle 'please'.

"Come over on Saturday. You can spend the night."

Ritsu nodded. "I'll see you Saturday then." He said, trying not to think too deeply about what 'spending the night' would hold, otherwise he'd become a flustered mess.

"Wait, c'mere." Saga said after Ritsu grabbed his bag, clearly ready to leave.

Ritsu shuffled closer to the bed and Saga grabbed his hand before pulling him down to give him one last kiss. "Love you."

Ritsu predictably turned cherry red. "Y-you can't just sneak attack me like that!"

"What about that was sneaky?"

"Y-You know what I mean!" Ritsu quickly tried to put distance between them, but Saga held his hand tightly.

"Say it back."

"S-S-Stop teasing me!" Ritsu was not at all used to hearing Saga say the L word yet. It also seemed like every day Saga was becoming more affectionate. Not that Ritsu disliked it! Quite the opposite in fact! His poor heart just couldn't take it.

"Not letting you go till you say it." Saga said, leaving a few kisses on Ritsu's hand. Maybe if he embarrassed Ritsu enough he'd get the response he was looking for.

Ritsu's knees almost gave out from such a simple, but intimate action. "I-I can b-barely talk at all when y-you do things like that!"

'Damn it. I really don't want him to leave.' Saga thought. "You're sure you can't spend the night tonight?" He asked.

"My mother would kill me for even thinking about it." Ritsu said.

Saga sighed and flopped on to his back, still holding Ritsu's hand. "Fiiiiine."

"So...you have to let me go..." Ritsu reminded him, half-trying to wiggle his way out of his grip.

"You have to say it back first." Saga said.

"I-I love you too."

Saga, although he didn't want to, released Ritsu's hand. "See you Saturday. Around 12 sound good? We can have lunch together."

Ritsu nodded in confirmation, deciding to be just a little bold and kiss Saga's cheek before running off quickly.

Shit, that brat! Doing something cute like that and running away before Saga could grab him.

'Saturday.' Saga reminded himself before groaning. 'Fuck, what am I even gonna do for Saturday?'

The next day Saga decided to skip the library at the end of classes since Ritsu wouldn't even be there. Plus, he needed to use his free time to try to find a present for him. He felt like a book was a safe bet, but that was also just way too obvious. Still, the bookstore wasn't a bad place to start.

Saga took his time looking through titles, eventually reaching for a book. His hand ended up meeting another and he pulled away, looking over to see who was trying to get the same novel.

Kohinata An.

Saga couldn't help but to frown. Why, why of all people did it have to be her? Ritsu had told Saga that An knew about them, which didn't bother the upperclassman, but he still didn't want to see her.

"Oh, hello, Saga Senpai." An said before giving a knowing smile. "You're here to shop for Richan too, aren't you?" She had been invited to by Youko Onodera to spend the day with them and Ritsu for his birthday, but she had politely declined. She knew it was just a way for Youko to try to set them up.

Saga tried not to look too terribly annoyed at the question. She was Ritsu's friend, of course she knew when his birthday was and of course she'd be getting him a present, but something about it still bothered him.

"Yeah." He answered.

"Richan's sooooo hard to shop for. Every year I try to keep an eye out for something he might like, but I always end up resorting to books." She laughed, but slowly lost her smile when Saga did not react. "Um, Saga Senpai, I..." She trailed off.

"What?" He asked, hoping she'd leave him alone soon.

An hesitated, wanting apologize for what happened on White Day, but instead she smiled and grabbed the book off the shelf. She held it out to him. "You should get Richan this book. He's been reading a lot more fantasy novels lately and I've heard a lot of good things about this one. He'll love it."

Saga slowly took the book out of her hands. "...thanks."

An nodded. "Oh and, one more thing." She said before making herself look as stern as she possibly could. "If you ever hurt Richan, you'll be sorry. So you better treat him right!"

Saga was a little dumbstruck by that, having expected some declaration of rivalry instead, so he only nodded.

Still, that was enough to satisfy An. "Good. Have a nice day, Senpai." She said before taking her leave.

Maybe this An girl wasn't too terrible...

Saga would still keep an eye on her, but he supposed she wasn't the conniving boyfriend stealing witch he suspected her of being.

He looked down at the book he was holding, deciding to get it along with a new horror novel release. Ritsu didn't seem like the type to like that kind of thing, but Saga had been proven wrong by Ritsu's extensive collection of horror books.

'He reads horror but not shoujo...make it make sense.' Saga shook his head at the thought, leaving the store after making his purchases. He stopped in a bakery, getting a small strawberry cake for the two of them to share before heading home to work on his last gift. He needed as much time as he could possibly get for that one.

Once Saturday came, Saga tried to hide how excited he was to celebrate with Ritsu. He felt like such an idiot being so happy over something like this. He hoped Ritsu was just as happy.

"You're sure this is where you wanna go for lunch? We can go anywhere you want, it'll be my treat." Saga said, the two of them entering Pandaway together.

"Y-You don't have to-"

"I want to." Saga interuppted, not letting Ritsu try to talk him out of here.

"I want to eat here." Ritsu assured him. "I like this place, it reminds me of our first d-date." He admitted before he looked at Saga nervously. "That...was a date, right?"

"What else would you call it?" Saga asked as the two of them got in line.

"I just wanted to make sure." Ritsu said, now embarrassed for asking.

Saga just hummed in response. Ritsu was always asking things like that, but Saga hoped he'd be able to quell these insecurities of his.

"Want me to order for you?" Saga asked.

"That's even more embarrassing than stumbling and stuttering over my order." Ritsu said. "Besides, I'm a little more prepared than I was the first time." He added, determined to redeem himself.

Saga held back a laugh and shrugged. "Alright, if you say so."

The two soon got to the front, Saga ordering first. Ritsu ordered afterward, only panicking one or two times when he hadn't heard the employee correctly, but he actually managed to get through the process without wanting to die. Saga paid for them both before Ritsu could even attempt to pay for himself.

The teens sat across from one another with their food, eating and talking casually.

"What did you end up doing with your parents for your birthday?" Saga asked before taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Oh, it was actually really cool! My dad set up for me to meet the author Sumi Ryouichi. When I stopped completely panicking I got to talk to him about his books, including one that's in the works right now." Ritsu said with a bright smile. "After that we went to some fancy dinner, which was nice, but not really my thing." He added with a laugh.

"How the hell did your dad set that up?" Saga asked. He knew Ritsu's parents were wealthy, but what sort of connections did they have?

"My dad's company publishes Sumi Sensei's novels."

"Your dad's what?"

Ritsu frowned and furrowed his eyebrows a little bit. Had they not talked about this before? "My dad's company, Onodera Publishing."

"Onodera?"

"Yeah...like...my name?" Ritsu didn't understand what was confusing about this.

"Onodera...not Oda?"

Ritsu paled. No. Nonononono, this wasn't really happening! "Did I not ever properly introduce myself to you?" Ritsu squeaked out.

"No. I knew your name from the library cards. Are you telling me your name isn't Oda Ritsu?" Saga asked. Well, this was probably the most random and creative way to make Saga feel like the worst boyfriend ever. He hadn't even known Ritsu's actual name!

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Ritsu apologized quickly. "I-I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote down that name, I didn't want to seem like a stalker and write my real name, b-but now I realize that doesn't really make any sense." Ritsu put his face in his hands, wanting to hide forever.

"First a fiancée, now a fake name and you're suddenly an heir to a publishing company. You're not gonna tell me you're on the run from the cops next or anything like that, are you?"

"Of course not!" Ritsu hastily denied, not yet realizing that Saga was only teasing him. "I'm sorry, I swear I didn't hide this intentionally, I-"

"I know." Saga assured. He knew his boyfriend flip flopped between laser focused determination and totally scatterbrained, so he wasn't too mad about this. "But it would've been sort of funny if I still didn't know and found out after ten years or something." Saga said. That would've been quite a story.

"That would not be funny, that would be mortifying." Ritsu pouted.

Saga just chuckled and resisted the urge to reach over and ruffle his hair.

Once they finished eating and threw out their trash, Saga spoke up. "I was thinking we could go see the cherry blossom trees. If that's something you'd like."

Ritsu smiled. "I'd love to!" He said. "I love doing anything as long as it's with Senpai."

Saga held back the desire to frown. Why did Ritsu have to say cute things like that when he couldn't kiss him? He settled for reaching out and holding his hand.

"H-Hey!" Ritsu was quick to protest, but Saga held on.

"You can't just say something like that and not expect consequences." Saga said. "Come on, let's go." He walked, still holding Ritsu's hand.

Ritsu attempted to free himself a few more times, but to no avail, especially since him flailing his arm brought more attention than just the two of them holding hands.

Plus, not wanting to lose Ritsu among the other cherry blossom viewers was a good enough excuse to hold on to him. The crowd wasn't incredibly thick, but it was a pretty popular activity and it was a weekend as well, so there was a steady amount of visitors.

The flowers were in full bloom, painting the view a gentle shade of pink.

"I've never been cherry blossom viewing before." Saga admitted.

"Really?" Ritsu looked away from the flora, looking to his Senpai instead in surprise.

"Yeah. I'm glad I'm seeing them for the first time with you."

Ritsu turned as pinker than the petals around them. "W-Why do you always have to tease me?"

"I'm not teasing." Saga frowned a little. "I'm serious."

Ritsu looked away from him, unable to meet his eyes out of embarrassment. "Well...I-I'm glad you're with me too." He said softly, giving Saga's hand a slight squeeze.

Ba dump

Fuck, Saga didn't know if he'd ever be able to admit it out loud, but Ritsu was able to make his heart pound way too easily.

'I want to do this with him every year.' Saga thought. There was so much Saga wanted to do with Ritsu in general. He could only hope that he'd get the opportunity.

"Let's head back." Saga said after the two had been strolling together for a while. "I wanna kiss you and if I try to do that here you'll freak out."

Too late, Ritsu was already freaking out. "Y-Y-You can't just say something like that!"

Saga just shrugged. He was trying to be more open about his feelings, even if those feelings embarrassed the hell out of Ritsu.

"S-Seriously, it's like you're trying to kill me." Ritsu complained with a pout.

"Would love be such a bad way to die?"

Ack! The L word again!

"Yes!" Ritsu huffed.

Saga laughed.

Ritsu felt his entire body heat up. His Senpai...LAUGHED. He couldn't recall a time that he had heard his Senpai laugh before. He wanted to hear it more often, wanted to see him smile like that every day and be the reason for it.

"C-Come on, let's just go." Ritsu said quickly before he became overwhelmed with such thoughts.

Once they arrived back at the older teen's house, Saga took the opportunity to kiss Ritsu, just as he said he would.

"Sit. I'll get the cake and presents." Saga said after he pulled away.

Ritsu went to tell his Senpai that he shouldn't have gone through all that trouble, but he knew Saga would just insist that he had wanted to do this. So, instead Ritsu sat and said hello to Sorata, scratching under his chin. The cat curled up in his lap as Ritsu continued to give him attention.

Saga didn't take long, bringing the cake and presents into the living room. Sorata and Ritsu were definitely a cute sight together, making Saga smile a bit.

"Thank you so much for all this, Senpai." Ritsu said after they had cut the cake and he had opened his gifts. He was admittedly very exciting about his two new reads, even if that made him feel like a nerd. Plus, they were books that Senpai got for him, so that made them even more special.

"There's one more thing." Saga said. "It's in my room." He stood and left, heading up the stairs as Ritsu waited and distracted himself with keeping Sorata from eating the leftover cake.

Saga soon came back down, holding something behind his back. "So, I sort of stole your idea and I didn't have much time to get as good as you with the paper folding, but..." Saga brought a jar full of paper stars forward. They were pink like cherry blossom petals. He sat back down next to Ritsu as he spoke. "I noticed you still look so...shocked whenever I tell you I love you. Even now you're always saying stuff like 'we're dating right?' when I keep telling you how I feel. So, I thought that this might be a nice reminder. If you ever start doubting my feelings for you, you can read as many as it takes for you to stop doubting. This is real, Ritsu. What we have and what I feel for you is real and I don't want you to forget that." Saga said, handing the jar over. "These are only some of the reasons, though." He added, thinking there weren't nearly enough stars.

"Some?" Ritsu stared at the stars. This jar full was only some of the reasons Saga loved him? This couldn't be real.

"Well I couldn't fit all of them. I didn't have enough time." Saga said. "Because someone didn't tell me their birthday was coming up."

Ritsu just smiled. "Thank you." He said, excited to read all the little messages inside the stars, but he'd wait till he was alone so he didn't melt into a puddle right in front of Saga.

"Mm. Happy birthday. I love you."

"I love you too."

[bestworstcase]

farran rereads lost lagoon: chapters 5-6

- mixed feelings about eugene’s first impressions of cassandra here. on the one hand, she did make a snide remark about him being a thief, which must sting when he’s already making an active attempt at self-improvement and attending classes in criminal justice. this isn’t tts eugene - who spends 6-7 months loafing around the palace basking in luxury until cass drags him for being self-absorbed and lazy. this eugene has a work ethic and seems to feel some actual responsibility regarding his new role as rapunzel’s consort. it’s not fair for cass to make a snap judgment about him based on his past and decide to be rude to him because of it.

on the other hand… he and rapunzel did just barge into her space against her will and her subsequent prickliness was reasonable, which eugene doesn’t seem to have any awareness of. and taking into consideration the likelihood that this cass is supposed to be about 17 while eugene is an established adult, that isn’t a fun vibe.

- sort of amused by the role reversal of eugene, in the licensed fanfic cassunzel s1 au, is the one who introduces rapunzel to the library. i guess the key to unlocking rapunzel’s romance option is to not show her the books. but also, why is eugene the one showing her around lol

- did he steal from the coronan palace so much that he just knows where everything is

- the dialogue in this chapter is… hm

“You can take these books back to your room if you want,” Eugene said.

“I can?” I said, staring at the stocked shelves around me.

“I think I’ll open a window,” Eugene said. “It’s a little musty in here.”

like what’s going on here? is this a dialogue bug introduced by spot editing that didn’t get patched before publishing? does eugene have adhd? is this a romance novel™ thing to demonstrate that while eugene and rapunzel talk to each other plenty they’re not on the same wavelength to such an extent that raps asks a question and eugene responds with a complete non-sequitur, which will be contrasted with how completely rapunzel and cass ‘click’ together later? hello?

- one point in favor of the romance novel™ theory is that immediately after this eugene conks out instead of sharing in rapunzel’s discovery and exploration of the library and it is implied he is having a fun flynn rider dream ie he’s lost in his own fantasies and oblivious to rapunzel’s. symbolism!

- anyhoo, this is when the plot device of the ‘lost lagoon’ book of poems turns up. i will say that, having spent the better part of my teen years working in an actual library, it beggars belief to say that a book got shoved behind other books in a popular section (sports) by mistake and got left that way for so long that dust blooms out of it when it’s finally cracked open again; likewise, anyone who attempted to intentionally hide the book this way is an idiot. my dude, you are in a palace riddled with secret passageways. maybe hide the secret book there?

like it’s not even well-hidden. rapunzel pulls out one (1) book from the sports section and immediately spots it. which also just feels dumb. like… there’s a million other ways this book could have been hidden. inside another book would have been more believable. rapunzel rips a bone-dry book of census records off the top shelf because she’s insatiably curious about corona’s people and surprise! it’s got this slim little book of poetry crammed inside it. like ??? i know it’s juv fic but make an effort

- coronans canonically speak english according to this i’m die

- rapunzel hides the book from arianna just… because, and i can’t help but feel this is another case of anxiety written by someone who doesn’t quite get it. she’s ‘just not ready’ to share this book of poems that means absolutely nothing to her yet except that she thought it sounded pretty.

but like. this girl grew up with gothel, who made a habit of belittling her interests, thoughts, feelings, and desires. everything rapunzel had she had because gothel deigned to give it to her, and anything she valued could have been snatched away just as easily. in the film it’s made clear that rapunzel hides pascal’s entire existence from gothel, and while the reason for this isn’t spelled out, it’s clear to me that she was afraid gothel might hurt or get rid of pascal should she learn of his existence. so, like. this is all a recipe for rapunzel having this general anxiety about things being taken for her and with this fear being linked to mother figures it makes sense that arianna would tend to trigger it especially. there is a perfectly obvious, understandable reason for rapunzel to be terrified of sharing anything she found by herself and sees value in or is excited about with her new mom, even if she knows rationally that arianna would never take it from her.

as it is, it really comes across more as an arbitrary plot device to keep the lagoon a cassunzel-only thing.

- there’s a lot of odd characterization decisions in this book but i think rapunzel being resistant and reluctant with regards to the idea of having a human companion is probably the weirdest. ??

- arianna feels like she’s characterized the way a lot of fanworks characterize her, i.e. the authorial mouthpiece who (in the case of cassunzel fic specifically) overtly ships cassunzel and does things to facilitate that relationship. don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to see her doing stuff at all, but… i dunno, i find this brand of arianna doing things just a little wearying. let her just be her own character.

- implication is that arianna and the captain agreed that cass would be rapunzel’s lady-in-waiting, arianna okays this with rapunzel and then tells rapunzel to announce it to cassandra at this public holiday feast. with no prior warning. wow. i think the kindest possible reading here is that the captain has been telling arianna that cass would be delighted and honored to receive this position and arianna assumes he’ll give cass a heads-up as a courtesy beforehand, but that paints the captain in a pretty bad light on account of him lying and essentially manipulating the queen in order to force his teenage daughter to accept this huge responsibility that she vocally does not want. in any case, absolutely nobody involved in this shitshow gives a damn what cass wants.

- lagoon comes in hard with the saporian!cass symbolism l o l. rapunzel reads a saporian poem out loud, not knowing what it means but loving the sounds, while daydreaming about becoming friends with cass.

- arianna seems to genuinely believe cass will be thrilled to have the lady-in-waiting gig sprung on her, which seems to lend credence to the theory that cap has been talking it up as something cass wants. or the intention here is to paint arianna as an out of touch noblewoman, but i don’t think that’s what howland was going for. i don’t know, it’s an odd conversation.

- eugene calls cassandra “sport” lmfao

- lagoon cass has never read a book in her life, apparently

- i don’t want to keep harping on this too much but it keeps leaping off the page at me; cass’s behavior throughout this dinner scene really just bleeds teenagerhood. eugene and rapunzel both make actual stabs at conversation by asking her about things they know she’s interested in, and cass brushes them off/stonewalls them. in tts, on the other hand, cass is actually pretty open to deep conversations with both rapunzel and eugene—it’s just that they never. ask her about herself. eugene goes 6-7 months before he asks cassandra a personal question in cassandra vs eugene, which if i remember right is the only time he asks her a personal question. rapunzel gets very invested very fast in becoming friends with cassandra, but she does it by strong-arming cass into being her partner in a contest, and when cass decides to open up to her it isn’t in response to rapunzel asking her things. the dynamic is totally different.

- actually now that i think about it - lagoon cass feels a lot like the cranky new dreamer version of cass (you know, the flavor of new dream fans who resent cass for ‘being mean’ to eugene, ‘being controlling’ of rapunzel, and ‘stealing’ eugene’s narrative spotlight). this cass is rude, she does come off as a bit spoiled and very bratty, she is nasty to eugene for no good reason, and while i do sympathize with her on the grounds of her evidently being a child i don’t find her to be especially likable or compelling as a character. if cass acted like this in tts i think the cranky new dreamer contingent of the fandom would have a much stronger leg to stand in - especially if she was still supposed to be 22.

like… this:

“So,” Eugene said, distracting me. “What’s it like to be the daughter of the captain of the guard? You obviously have a thing for weapons.”

“So,” I said.

“Have you been training since you were a little kid?” Eugene pressed on. “Do you have friends in the castle?”

“No,” I said. “Who needs friends?”

“Jeez!” Eugene muttered while Rapunzel whispered with the queen. “I don’t need just any icebreaker here, I need a pickax.”

I rolled my eyes.

this is way more interest in cass as a person than eugene shows in tts… like ever. at this point, eugene has met cass ONCE for a few MINUTES and he already knows more about her than he does in cassandra vs eugene, after six or seven months of frequent contact. yet cass scoffs and gives him monosyllabic answers and radiates way more hostility for way less reason than she displays even in tangled before ever after. i think eugene is totally justified in going, yeesh, what’s this kid’s deal?

- rapunzel goes straight from “i’d like you to be my lady-in-waiting” to “you’re my new lady-in-waiting!” without waiting for cass to answer. and i mean, at this point it is a done deal, queen’s orders and all, so i can’t hold this against rapunzel at all. but man, the adults involved in this decision sure aren’t concerned at all about making sure rapunzel learns how boundaries and consent works.

How was I going to train? How was I going to live the life I was born to live?

Fury heated my blood as I stared down the moon.

heh.

i wonder how much howland knew regarding the planned villain arc, because on the one hand lines like this are drenched in foreshadowing, and she’s done a much better job establishing cassandra’s belief in destiny than tts did. but on the other, had she known about the gothel twist, she would surely have known that cassandra is several years older than rapunzel, and that doesn’t square with how cass… acts.

this is half-remembered hearsay so take it with a grain of salt, but i seem to recall something about cass, in her original conception, being younger than rapunzel (and also aware of her parentage, and secretly villainous all along). could howland have been working from information given to her during the transitional stage between that proto-cass and tts cass? that would explain a lot.

- the last paragraph of 6 is the most effective passage in the book thus far:

This was a decision that had bars around it. I couldn’t protest without falling out of favor with the king and queen, and then there would be no way I’d ever be allowed in the guard. I couldn’t argue my way out of this with my father. A royal assignment was the final word. My fate had been sealed. I fell to my knees and stifled a scream.

[ghosttotheparty]

while the world ends around us (make believe with me)

2. I just wanna go where I can get some space AO3

Lucas doesn't know what to do with himself. 

He still hasn’t worked up the energy or motivation to unpack beyond what he needs, even after weeks of being in Antwerp. He’s barely even worked up the motivation to get out of bed. 

He’s barely left the apartment, even after his two-week quarantine mostly in his room (during which he unpacked a few shirts and the white comforter that’s strewn across his mattress, which lies on the floor next to a window), despite his father’s demands that he get groceries. That was their first fight after Lucas moved in. Words had been thrown around the room. Lucas wishes he had thrown other things too. Anything that might just convince his father to send him back to Utrecht. Maybe some plates. Glass. But he figures that would probably just get his father’s belt lashed at him. 

When his father finally surrendered to letting Lucas stay home, he told him to unpack. And then told him that he isn’t allowed to put anything on the walls. Not even with tape. 

So Lucas has boxes and boxes filled with things he can do nothing with but look at. Photos he’d printed before moving specifically to put on his walls, that he now just thumbs through longingly, gazing at Kes and Jayden and Isa and Liv. He even has photos of Noah, whom he’d gotten closer to in the days before the move. Noah had given him a goodbye gift of a set of pencils accompanied with a wink and a hug later on that night. He’d told Lucas that he’d caught him doodling on a napkin at a get-together a few weeks before. 

“You’re pretty good,” Noah had told him. “You could do it seriously.”

“I do,” Lucas had responded. “I just don’t show anyone.” 

“Well maybe if you show more people, more people will get you new supplies.” 

Lucas had just made a face and allowed him a “Maybe.” 

The pencils are in the same box as all his sketchbooks, the ones he’s started filling with drawings and doodles, and the ones that are completely blank, bought before he moved just in case he wouldn’t be able to buy any after arriving.  In the box, he also has watercolours and paints and an abundance of brushes, along with palette knives he’s never used. The box is on the floor next to his door. He moved it from the top of a stack of boxes after needing to find his lined notebooks for school. And his clothes. 

Anyway. 

The photos. 

He remembers when they were taken. He heard a lot of laughter that day. He had taken some before Kes had snatched his phone (freshly cleared of storage just for the occasion), and taken more than Lucas had bothered to count. Pictures of Lucas and Isa, Isa by herself, Lucas and Liv, Lucas and Janna, Lucas and Engel, Lucas and Noah, Lucas and Jayden, Lucas and Ralph, before he had begun taking photos of them not posing. Photos of them eating, laughing, talking, hugging.  Them all existing. 

They were beautiful.

Lucas had told Kes he could be a photographer. Kes had said he’s never thought about it. 

Then Lucas had taken his phone back and taken photos of Kes and the others until his storage ran out.

He printed each and every one of them.

He flips through them whenever he can, grinning and rolling his eyes at the photos of Jayden making a face and the photo of Noah flipping his middle finger to Kes with a flat face, smiling fondly at the photo of Liv and Isa hugging, Isa’s cheek squished against Liv’s, gazing longingly at the ones of them all together. 

He sighs. 

He supposes he feels lonely now. Of course, he’s still been talking to them, chatting and giggling at the stupid videos and memes they send, but he hasn’t seen or touched them since he moved. He thinks he misses that the most. Hugging, shaking hands, receiving cheek kisses from Isa and Janna and Ralph. Sitting on a sofa and immediately feeling someone’s leg press against his, or lay over his lap. Feeling someone’s head rest on his shoulder, someone’s fingers mess with his curls. He misses when Isa would stand too close while talking to him, close enough for him to wrap his arms around her waist and hold her close while she speaks. He misses when Kes’s thigh would press against his as they sat side-by-side, and when Jayden would greet him with a fist to his shoulder, or Ralph with a pinch on his cheek. 

He hasn’t touched anyone since moving. He doesn’t think the accidental brushes against his father’s shoulders as he storms past count. 

He misses it, more so sometimes than others. Sometimes he misses it so badly he aches, pulling a pillow to his chest, or wrapping his arms around his legs, trying to feel some sort of contact, some sort of pressure. Sometimes he wonders if he’ll forget what it feels like to touch other people. He, no one for that matter, doesn’t know when it’ll be completely safe to touch others, to hang out with them without covering their faces, to greet them with kisses on the cheek, the way Janna likes to. He doesn’t even know if he’ll have anyone he’ll want to do those things with. 

He doubts he’ll find friends like Kes and Jayden, kind of doubts he’ll find friends full stop. 

It’s not like he’s going to have the opportunity to get to know anyone at school, as they’re not even at school. And it’s not like he really wants to make friends, anyway. He’ll just leave Antwerp after high school, just have to say goodbye. The first chance he gets, he’s leaving on a train back to Utrecht. He’ll figure his life out from there. 

But for now, this is what he has: a mattress on the floor. Blank walls. Towering cardboard boxes. A stash of cigarettes and weed hidden between his mattress and the wall. His skateboard propped up against a stack of boxes. His laptop sitting on top of a box, ready for when he finally starts school, which he’s dreading. 

Just more things to do. 

More chores. 

Everything feels like a chore lately. If he thinks about it, everything’s felt like a chore for a while now. Instead of a to-do list, he has a fuck, I still have to do that list. It takes energy to roll out of bed. It takes commitment to wake up. 

It’s gotten worse since he got to Antwerp. Maybe, he thinks, because it’s so much work to exist in the same place as his father, who blames him for every single thing the universe throws his way. But he also thinks it’s because there’s no one here to shake him out of it. Back home, he would get texts and texts from his friends, telling him to meet them at the skatepark, at a cafe, at some party. Giving him things to do. 

Here, he still gets texts. 

He answers them laying in bed. 

He doesn’t know how to explain it. 

It feels like something is missing. Like there’s an emptiness in him. It’s easier to ignore when he’s around other people, when he’s listening to loud music and talking and laughing, or scrolling endlessly on social media. It’s easier to pretend there’s something there, on that empty shelf in his chest. 

Sometimes it’s sadness, he thinks. Especially since he moved. Sadness from missing home, missing people. But most of the time it’s just… nothing. 

And he can’t really spend time with his friends, so he scrolls. Or draws or paints. But he hasn’t been making much art beyond sketches lately. 

Part of him hopes he might make some friends when school starts, at least some people to chat with, or hang out with when it’s safe. But if he’s completely honest with himself, he’s not expecting to. He doesn’t even remember how he became friends with most of the friends he has. Kes and Isa had, for lack of a better word, adopted him when they were younger, had taken him under their wings and shown him the ropes of existence. 

Which feel like they’re unravelling. 

Lucas rolls over in bed, looking up at his laptop on the boxes, sighing. This is his life now. Boxes and the internet. The sound of his father tripping down the hall, grumbling to himself because Lucas isn’t there to scold. (This is just about the only instance Lucas can think of when he hears his father’s voice. The amount of words they’ve exchanged outside of their fights could usually be counted on two hands.) He’ll finally hear some voices that don’t belong to his father next week when he goes to class. 

The thought of going back to school, even through video calls and online assignments, makes him itch. He’s picked his lips red and raw in the past few days, without Isa to swat his hands away from his face before he can start tasting blood. When he lets his mind wander, his leg starts to bounce. His mom would set her hand on his knee, making it stop, and chuckle while telling him he’s making her seasick. He doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. 

He already has lots of emails from teachers; he checks every time he uses his laptop, but he hasn’t responded to any of them. They all sound the same.

This is new to all of us The school year looks very different this year Thank you all for doing your best! These are uncertain times This digital landscape is difficult to navigate This is a unique challenge This could be an opportunity for you

All monotonous, inspiring voices of people waiting. 

He doesn’t know how the hell he’s supposed to respond to any of them. 

He tries to think that is really is something everyone is experiencing. That This is new to all of us and We’re all doing what we can, but he feels like he’s in it alone. He knows even Kes and the others aren’t seeing each other in person, aren’t hugging and hanging out the way Lucas longs to, but at least they’re at home. Lucas is stuck in a box, and it feels like it’s closing around him. 

He sighs again, shutting his eyes. It’s not quite dark yet, but he feels exhausted, even after doing nothing all day. He’ll probably wake up in a few hours anyway. And he’ll open his blinds, looking out at the city, just half-alive, just like him. 

[carlyserrano]

[ GEORGINA AMOROS, SHE/HER, CISFEMALE ]  —  [ CARLOTA “CARLY” SERRANO ]  is a child of  [ HYPNOS ]  with the power of  [ SLEEP MANIPULATION AND INDUCEMENT ] .  they were born in  [ 1998 ]  and have been in nemean lion since  [ 2016 ] .  with the change, they  [ ARE TRAINING IN ]  the  [ STANDARD ]  role which makes sense since they’re usually  [ HAVING AN EXISTENTIAL CRISIS AND NAPPING ] .  if you’d like to meet them try the [ SUN ]  building .  —  kati / she & her / est / 18+

links: stats / pinterest . 

background

carly spent most of her life knowing this : her mother died of sadness. it must be a terrible thing, to be a mortal that loves a god that deeply. so much that not being able to be with them tears you apart. 

she doesn’t really remember her mother, she was only three years old when she took her own life, but carly still wishes she could have done something, that she could have been enough to make her happy – or at least to take away that overwhelming sadness. 

as a result, carly was raised by her mortal grandparents. this accounts for some of carly’s old-fashioned taste in film, music and even fashion, raised by guardians fifty years her senior. 

carly loved stories. whether her nose was stuck in a book or she was daydreaming herself, her mind was always exploring fantastical possibilities. sometimes daydreaming would take a step further into actual dreaming, which was something teachers started to struggle with in class. prone to fits of sleeping – which would be diagnosed as narcolepsy by her teachers – it became problematic. it was very difficult, pretty much impossible to wake her if she didn’t want to be woken up. as her powers grew, people around her would be prone to sleeping as well, but she didn’t understand how she was doing it or what exactly triggered it.

on carly’s thirteenth birthday, her grandparents sat her down to have “the talk” – they told her about her father’s identity and the true story behind what happened with her mother, finally thinking she was old enough to understand. it devastated her, how truly sad things had been for her mother and the circumstances surrounding her life. she honestly just wanted to be NORMAL. when her grandparents brought up nemean lion and suggested sending her there, carly refused. only thirteen, she didn’t want to travel to a new country and leave behind her grandparents. the changed scared her and she still held out hope of living a somewhere ‘normal’ life. she was legit just thirteen and scared to travel overseas and leave home...but with some new added trauma, too. 

but things started to get worse from her going forward. children of hypnos are extremely powerful and carly didn’t know how to control any of the things that she was going through. her sleep patterns as a teenager became erratic, insomnia for days on end and then the inverse. after carly slept for a week straight, her grandparents felt like they had no choice. they couldn’t care for her and weren’t properly equipped to handle what she was going through, and when carly was seventeen, she had no choice but to pack her things and move to america. 

despite missing her grandparents terribly, carly wanted to make the most of a bad situation. mentors at nemean lion taught her about her powers and more about how to use them – her ability to alter someone’s consciousness with a snap of her fingers. slowly, she started to become more confident in powers that she’d never thought she would be able to control. carly is the sort of person who tries desperately hard to make others happy, to look after them, and she considered switching to the hero track when she had a better handle on things, but she never got that far. 

all of these people telling her how gifted she was definitely added to her confidence, but maybe...overdid it a little for a girl who had never felt special before, for someone that felt like an outsider and now was very much an insider with a lot of friends and like, the ability to have a social life now that she could maintain a normal sleep schedule. she really started to envision herself as this bold hero. 

i’m having trouble putting this articulately and i keep rewriting this so i’ll just present this part. messily. naive, romantic carly falls for a fuckboy > loses her virginity then he totally ditches her like there was never anything between them > she’s pissed off and hurt so they get into a fight in the middle of the training room > she snaps her fingers to get him to shut up while her emotions are at an all time high and...he ends up in the infirmary in a coma. that was enough to teach her that her powers were not a good thing.

not only did she land the reputation of being the-person-most-butthurt-from-being-ghosted-ever but she also realized that her powers are STILL growing. she never thought she’d be capable of doing something like that, and she doesn’t know her own limits, and the realization scares her. she doesn’t feel like she’s capable of controlling her own emotions under pressure and she loses the confidence that she’s built – remaining in the standard track for the next two years or so. 

homeboy likely did wake up from the coma as a result of NL having the best healers in the world but it took like some months, like he got his shit ROCKED. 

so, that’s kind of in the past for her now, though it’s something she still struggles with, not knowing her own strength and being scared of letting her emotions get the best of her again. she now rarely uses her powers and is a bit scared of her own self, kind of just floating by in the standard track and only thinking of the hero track in like, her wildest daydreams. she just doesn’t really trust herself and doesn’t even know the full extent of her abilities, especially because it’s possible that as a child of hypnos she’s probably still developing more over time. 

personality

FAIR: carly tends to stick to her morals, a distinct sense of what’s right and wrong. this can have some gray areas on the godly world, but she sees good guys and bad guys. due to her diplomatic world view, she’s pretty good at looking at a situation objectively and treats people and situations with fairness, apt to try to be the peacemaker in a friend group or during a disagreement. she also thinks that everyone inherently wants to be good and do good, so she’s inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt and second chances going forward. 

SOCIABLE: extroverted and loves being around people, once you get started on a conversation with her, she could go for hours. definitely not one to isolate herself, she’s happiest when hanging out with friends or at social gatherings, doing things with other people. if she is awake, she is probably either reading or talking to someone and i’m sure her friends think she could learn to shut up sometimes but she can’t help but share her every thought, really lacks a filter. 

LOVING: carly will freely give her whole heart to people, i think ! she’s not afraid to put her heart on her sleeve for people and she honestly puts a lot of her own value in the happiness of others / needing to make others happy, so she’s pretty selfless about wanting to show great love and care for the people in her life. i think of carly as a pretty big-hearted person who is not afraid to put herself out there and say how she feels about someone or something and she will show great affection for her friends, who she considers family. 

i suppose some people could feel smothered by her at times but truly her heart is just so full

NAIVE: often thinks what you see is what you get with people, which...rarely the case. but she’s just so inclined to believe in the goodness of people and give second chances that she can sometimes get in over her head. the fact that she sees things in such black and white can be hard for her, because she’s seen her powers do bad things and she’s inclined to believe that she herself might be bad, or that those powers are bad, and she refrains from using them. essentially, she still has so much to learn. 

STUBBORN: once she gets an idea in her head, it is really hard to change carly’s mind or get her to waver on it. she can be a bit infuriating in an argument because of this, and this also tends to get her to believe that her very first judgement of people is correct. very firm in her ideas once she has her mind made up, to a fault. 

ANXIOUS: literally has anxiety but tends to get really nervous about being liked or doing things wrong, overthinking the small stuff. and the big stuff, like her powers. when she gets overwhelmed, however, her favorite escape mechanism is simply to go take a nap and then she’ll deal with it when she wakes up. essentially prone to nervousness, which is why she can sometimes overcompensate by talking a lot or going to great lengths to make sure someone likes her or to make sure that person knows she likes them. 

headcanons

honestly is so fulfilled by reading like, she’s the sort of person to get really attached to characters in books and feel like they are her best friends ! so, she gets a lot out of stories and spends a lot of her alone time a ) reading or b ) journaling/scrapbooking.

is a really meticulous record keeper ! she keeps track of her days and is probably the one snapping photos when hanging out and she keeps scrapbooks over the years at NL and beyond, has the most fun collection of colored paper on her shelf that you’ve ever seen. 

big angel energy ? i think. she doesn’t really partake in drinking or smoking ( though she’ll have like, a glass of wine during dinner or before bed, she really likes white wines bc she basic ) and do be wearing her heart on her sleeve, a very trustworthy person, i would call her dependable in situations though she’s too naive to be your mom friend because her advice definitely does not come from wisdom – she can be a bit of a ditz/airhead, actually. 

if she sees something shiny and pretty in nature, she will keep it. so, that means she’s got flowers pressed between books, pretty rocks lining her windowsill, and some colorful leaves probably crumpled up in the bottom of her backpack. just loves collecting STUFF. 

lots of her clothing is either vintage/thrifted or sweatpants/sweatsuits. generally she will go for comfort first when picking out something to wear. 

favorite ice cream is cookie dough and she could eat it all day.

takes a nap every day i feel like most of her friends know they probably can’t reach her between like 3pm-6pm because she is having her little nap. 

i might give her another power at some point idk i read on the hypnos wiki that his children are mad powerful and sometimes develop additional abilities later in life so who knows but prob something cute with dreams idk

wanted connections

gal pals, girl besties, girl squad ?? i just think that women, essentially, and i feel like the vibes of movie nights and sleepovers together and painting each others nails and gossiping late into the night would be super wholesome and would make me feel at peace in my soul and such. 

i also want like a brooke to her haley james !!! sort of. i want this vibe, where carly is 🌼👼🧸 and ur muse is kinda 💃🍷💋

also gal pals in the way that they kiss sometimes but it’s not serious or is it !!! show ur friends u love them by kissing them on the mouth !!!

that boy she put into a coma. idk if your character fits sort of that player archtype and would be kind of a dick / would ghost a girl after sex then maybe this is for you !! if you’d be down to have your character have been in a coma for like 2 months a couple years ago. she feels so so bad about it though.

an ex? probably on good terms so we can talk about why things didn’t work out but honestly break my heart and fuck me up because it probably would have been like, her first love and there’s still a bit of a soft spot even if it’s not the same i’m sure she just wants them to be so happy ! maybe she’s trying to like, set them up with one of her friends and it’s weird. 

married couple friends. you know, that best friend she has where they kind of bicker like a married couple and they’re both really stubborn but there’s a lot of love and mutual respect there. 

a mentor or something? maybe someone in the hero track that sees how much she’s struggling with her powers and puts in the extra work to help her train a little. she says she doesn’t care about being a hero but maybe they can see right through her a little bit. 

someone she can actually help. i’d love a way for her to realize she can use her powers for good a little bit! maybe if your char suffers from insomnia, bad dreams, something in their trauma makes it hard for them to have a regular sleep schedule...she feels inclined to help them a little bit? this would take time and some build up because she’s not really comfortable using her powers, but i’d love a storyline where she learns how she can use this power positively like that and she helps someone sleep a little better. 

yearning. i don’t know <3 carly can have a little crush on someone who doesn’t give a fuck about her. i feel like she’s the type to have little crushes on everyone she’s prob a little in love w all her friends. 

old friendships. maybe something that fizzled out after the incident a couple years ago, like maybe they were close before but they were really pissed at her for what she did and the two of them were just never able to make up afterwards, maybe they were pals with the guy that she hurt !! 

bad influence? she’s so LAWFUL and GOOD, i’d love for someone to help her see the grey areas a little bit and crack her out of her shell or something, just kind of soft. in a healthy way, maybe they bring out the best in each other but also maybe one day it gets taken too far ! 

[valhallanrose]

A Kindling, Of Sorts

The invitation to join their grandmother that would change Astoria’s course forever. 

This fic predates What the Water Gave Me and Katrinah Josephina, taking place when Astoria is about thirteen. 

Astoria is nonbinary, and uses she/they pronouns interchangeably. 

4k words. No CWs apply. Title: A Kindling, Of Sorts by The Oh Hellos

In the early hours of the morning, Castle Kintyre was beginning to stir, the hearths lit to combat the mid-winter cold and servants passing through the halls to begin their duties before the Canonach family began to rise and emerge for the day.

Of all the children who lived within the castle walls, only one would willingly stir so early, rising with the sun and making their way down to the lounge where their instrument sat covered in a swathe of fabric to keep it protected from the forces that were their cousins. 

With a serene smile on their face and their harp between their knees, Astoria began to play, half-closed eyes fixed on the rays of golden sunlight that began to filter through the window from the morning sky. 

The sky shifted from lavender, to rose, and when the sky began to shift to gold the door to the lounge creaked open. They didn’t seem to notice the sound, not when the wooden floorboards squealed and a cane tapped lightly against the carpet until the source of it stopped a few feet away from where Astoria sat.

“Do you ever sleep, Astoria?”

They jolted out of their trance, hands falling away from the harp strings to rest on their knees and looking sheepishly toward their grandmother as they laid their cheek against the shoulder of the instrument. 

“I do, I just...don’t like to waste the day. And I wanted to play before Erskine woke up. They pulled some of the strings out of tune the last time I played around them.” Astoria shrugged lightly, their hands lifting to the strings again to pluck out a few notes. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Not at all. Seems the older I get, the less time I spend asleep.” Myrna chuckled, leaning on her cane slightly as she lowered herself into a plush armchair across from Astoria. “Though I suppose that isn’t so bad, getting some peace before the chaos that is our family. Would you be willing to play for me a little while longer?”

Astoria cracked a smile at that, watching as their grandmother accepted the tea tray from a passing maid and poured herself a cup with a relaxed sigh. “Any requests?”

“Whatever your heart desires.” Myrna waved a hand as she leaned back into her chair and closed her eyes, both hands wrapped around her teacup and cane kicked defiantly beneath her chair - an action that made Astoria giggle before turning back to the harp.

And so, Astoria readjusted their posture, raised their hands to the strings, and began to play again - a gentle melody that filtered through the air as the sky transitioned from gold to clear, crisp blue. 

They sat like that until Myrna’s eyes snapped open at the sound of gurgling laughter in the halls, quick footsteps making Astoria leap out of their seat and toss the cover over the harp before Erskine could come charging in - 

Only for the laughter to pass, the sound of Flora’s playful voice following the toddler down the hall toward the kitchens for breakfast.

Astoria breathed a sigh of relief as they slumped back into their seat, and Myrna chuckled, rising to her feet and offering Astoria a hand as she patiently waited for them to finish smoothing out the cover. 

“Remind me to pester Errol into helping you move the harp out of the lounge. It’s the least he can do, since it’s his child terrorizing the instrument.” Myrna smirked a little, then flung an arm around Astoria’s shoulder as they stood. “Suppose we should go be social and get breakfast?”

Astoria grinned a bit at that, looping an arm around Myrna’s waist and letting their grandmother guide them out of the lounge. “If I must, I’ll make the sacrifice. Do you think they’ll have butteries by the time we get there?”

“Monroe knows to save me a few. I’ve brawled with my brother for the last one too many times.” Myrna brandished her cane playfully, making Astoria snort in amusement, then gave them a squeeze. “Come on, then, I heard they broke into the gooseberry jam this morning. Gods know the gooseberries here are better than I can get when I’m on the road.”

*      *      *      *      *

Mealtime was always somewhat...eventful. 

The eldest generation was still fairly young - Malvina, having only recently stepped down from the title of Baroness at sixty-four, had just turned sixty-six a few weeks past. Ualan had just broken seventy, as the eldest, with Griselda, Monroe, and Astoria’s grandmother Myrna behind them in their fifties and sixties. 

Their children, encompassing Flora, Fiona, Bridget, Grace, Quinn, and Astoria’s mother Senga, were starting families of their own by then. Save for Bridget, who had just turned eighteen to Astoria’s thirteen - certainly an odd thing to consider, having an aunt who was close to them in age, but Astoria liked Bridget - but Flora, Grace, and Quinn had all married by then. 

Flora’s child was Erskine, the harp-assaulting toddler currently raising a fuss at the end of the table for not being allowed to have a third buttery when half the table wasn’t there yet. 

Astoria did not envy Flora for having to wrangle them.

Grace had two children, one with each of her spouses. Sachairi, the closest to Astoria in age at a mere six months younger than them, and Leana, who was eleven. 

And then, of course, Astoria themself - the eldest of their cousins, having turned thirteen in the summer - and their half-sibling, Malcolm, who was a few months shy of turning a year old. 

The breakfast table was usually full of some degree of bickering and healthy debate over clan affairs, something Astoria was content to watch while nibbling on a tattie scone and staying well away from. It’d been especially intense since their mother became Baroness of Kintyre, opening the door for new policy and leadership to see what new directions they could lead the clan in now that a new generation had come to the forefront. 

Astoria found it all rather snore-worthy. 

Sachairi settled into the seat to Astoria’s right, elbowing them lightly before he reached for the plate of tattie scones they’d dragged closer to their plate when it seemed nobody else was interested in them.

“Morning, cousin. Willing to share?”

Astoria shrugged, reaching up and ruffling his mop of red curls as he snagged a scone and shoved it halfway into his mouth. “Help yourself. Have you got lessons this morning?”

“No, they’re in the afternoon.” Astoria made a face as crumbs fell from his mouth, and he paused, covering his mouth to finish chewing before he continued. “Sorry. I meant to ask you, though, what’s the big deal happening in the library today? Something about your mom having some friends over?”

“Yeah, mum’s got some visitors. Friends from other clans who wanted to see Malcolm. I don’t really know, she’s been pretty busy lately and I haven’t wanted to interrupt the whole ‘new happy family’ thing she’s got going on.” Astoria didn’t notice the way Myrna paused in the seat across the table, instead shoving a bite of eggs into their mouth and gesturing with their fork a little when they continued. “In the library, though? That blows, I wanted to go poke around the shelves a bit this morning.”

Sachairi glanced left, then right, then leaned in to whisper excitedly to Astoria as they ate. “We still could poke around, you know. There’s that passage by the library we can sit in, maybe go listen? For all the talk about the clans we’ve been hearing, it’d be great to hear it from the horse’s mouth. I mean, your mom’s not a horse -”

Astoria snorted into their glass of water, grinning a bit as they elbowed Sachairi lightly. “None taken, I knew what you meant. But yeah, I’d be alright with that. Now eat your breakfast, your rumbly stomach isn’t giving us away when we try and listen in.”

*      *      *      *      *

The pair had practically barreled away from the table as soon as they were given permission to go, dashing down the halls toward the passage that led up to a gap behind the shelves where they could slip out a few books and listen in close to the group of giggling women in the alcove usually reserved for studying, not teatime. They pulled out just enough to peer through, to hear their voices, but not enough to make them visible to an unobservant eye. 

Astoria could see Senga, with her back to the shelf they hid behind, long blonde hair braided back and falling neatly over her shoulder out of Malcolm reach. The other women Astoria didn’t recognize - one brunette, one redhead, another blonde, one with hair so blue it looked black. They seemed to have arrived mid conversation, where the redhead had been passed a sleeping Malcolm and allowed to hold him while Senga watched over them both like a hawk. 

“...so darling, Senga, my boys were never this sweet when they slept. They always seemed on the brink of waking up and screaming whenever I held them.” The brunette laughed, leaning in to push a bit of Malcolm’s blanket out of his face where he lay in the redhead’s arms. “Was Catriona as darling when they were a babe?”

Astoria wrinkled their nose as Senga shrugged, the chuckle audible on her lips as she reached for a teacup. “Sometimes. Catriona was very vocal - can’t remember a night they didn’t wake up crying at some point. But Astor was an expert at getting them to settle when Riordan couldn’t. Catriona was always attached to them.”

“Astor?” Sachairi whispered, and Astoria nodded, pushing their glasses up their nose as they watched intently.

“My mum’s brother. He passed away when I was six, but I remember how nice he was. Always taught me about something new when I came to see him. Uncle Astor was sick for a long time, we all knew it was coming, but...Granny says he loved me like he would have his own children. I’ll tell you more about him another day. You would have liked him.”

Sachairi nodded, leaning his chin on the shelf and closing his eyes as the two fell silent again.

The redhead eventually passed Malcolm back, watching with a serene look on her face as Senga cradled their half-brother close to her chest in the crook of one arm.

“Catriona’s what, thirteen now? How do you feel having a baby after so long? I imagine some of it is like muscle memory by now.”

Senga shrugged, dropping a kiss to the top of Malcolm’s head. “To a degree, yes. But James has been quite helpful, and with all the changes about our lives, and my family has been kind. My cousin Flora had a child three years ago, Erskine, and she’s been happy to offer advice where she can.”

There were a few beats of pause as the blonde cooed at the baby before the blue haired woman spoke up, hands folded neatly in her lap. 

“Do you...regret having a baby, so soon after taking the title? You’d barely been married when Malvina stepped down and it passed to you. Adjusting to a new child is hard enough, but the title, and James has said he felt like Catriona needed more time to adjust to the idea of having a stepfather after it just being you two for so long…”

Senga sighed heavily, enough for Astoria and Sachairi to see. “Not at all. While it’s certainly intense all at once, it feels like something I’ve been missing...has been completed. Perhaps the timing isn’t ideal, but of course I wouldn’t trade my baby for the world.”

Sachairi sighed himself before turning to Astoria and giving their arm a comforting squeeze. “Come on, Tori, it’s just mom gossip. We don’t have to stay. Why don’t we go for a ride?”

Astoria nodded, reaching for the books they’d taken down to slip them back onto the shelf. “You go ahead, I’ll just put these back. I’d feel bad if someone couldn’t find them where they were supposed to be.”

With a nod, Sachairi slipped out of the passage, and Astoria quickly began to reshelve the books. The women continued talking, long enough for Astoria to tune them out when they continued talking about James and Malcolm in particular...when their own name drew them back into the conversation.

“Catriona...I must admit, has never felt like my child.” Senga mused, tilting her head back as she spoke. 

Astoria froze in place, the last book half shelved, eyes fixed on their mother from the gap in the books still left behind.

“Catriona always took after others. Riordan, Astor, my mother...I never felt connected to them. They were always someone else’s child. And in the beginning, I didn’t mind. I had cousins ahead of me for the barony, so I thought that if I had a child before the others, I would at least be able to impart some influence on what the clan should be through them. I didn’t expect Astor to pass, nor did I expect both of my cousins to abdicate and pass the title to me. And now that I have it...I have a new child, a new husband. I feel that the bridge is impossible to overcome for Catriona and I to have a personal relationship beyond leader and heir. I am simply glad to have a family I can observe as my family, nothing more than that.”

Senga shrugged, and while the redhead, the blonde, and the brunette all seemed to nod along in understanding, the blue haired woman seemed aghast at the idea. 

“You had Catriona solely to ensure you had influence over the barony? What if Catriona doesn’t want it, what will you do then?”

“That’s not their choice. They know their obligations to the clan, and I won’t allow them anything less than what they’ve worked for all these years.” Senga seemed unbothered as she reached for her cup, bringing it to her lips as she spoke. “Such is the way of heirs, is it not? Their lives are laid out for them, and I expect nothing of Catriona beyond fulfilling the duty they were born for. I will rule, and then they will, and we will shape the clan the way it should be.”

The book fell from the shelf, thumping quietly to the stone floor, but Astoria couldn’t find it in themself to mind as tears began to trickle down their cheeks. 

That’s not their choice.

Was that...was that it, then? They’d felt a little...replaced since their mother remarried and had Malcolm, but...to hear it out loud, to know that you were expected to be nothing but a tool to further someone else’s agenda? To know your own mother did not love you, but what you could give to her? To know that you didn’t have a say in who you were, who you could become, that you were heir alone and that was the only purpose you were permitted to have?

Clasping a hand over their mouth to stifle their sobs, Astoria fled the passage and ran down the halls of Castle Kintyre - the broad stone walls feeling like they were caving in around them, crushing weight as they felt their breath catch in their throat. 

They ran blindly, stumbling through the halls and trying to hide their tears until they damn near bowled over their grandmother on the way to their bedroom. Myrna stumbled, leaning hard on her cane to catch them both, and had hardly opened her mouth to ask Astoria if they were alright before their grandchild was blubbering through an apology with tears streaming down their face. 

Finding their grandmother, the most comforting presence they knew, seemed to have been the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

“I’m - I’m sorry, granny, I didn’t mean to -”

Myrna took a good look at them, really looked at them, then quickly pulled them back in for a hug that left Astoria burying their face in the fabric of Myrna’s shirt to try and stifle their whimpers. 

“Oh, please, I’ve suffered worse than a tumble!” Myrna laughed, smoothing a hand over Astoria’s short pink hair and kissing the top of their head as they tried and failed to stop crying at Myrna’s words. “What’s wrong, a bhobain? I know you wouldn’t cry like this over a simple bump. Come, come, we’ll go sit in my room. I’ve just snuck some cookies from the kitchen, and I need someone to help me hide the evidence.”

Astoria cracked a small smile at that, and Myrna kissed their brow, smoothing a hand across their cheek to wipe away the trails of their tears that her shirt hadn’t absorbed. 

“There’s my little rascal. Tears don’t suit you, Astoria.” Myrna looped her arm through theirs, guiding them down the hall toward the heavy mahogany door that Astoria knew led to their granny’s room. “Deep breaths, and then you’ll tell me what happened, yes?”

With a sniff, Astoria nodded, and Myrna led her inside her living quarters. A few steps carried them both to the two plush armchairs in front of the hearth, where Myrna sat them down and made them take a chocolate chip cookie out of the handkerchief she’d shoved in her pocket before prompting them as gently as she could to explain what was going on. 

Slowly, ever so slowly - and through a new bout of tears - Astoria tried their best to recount what they’d heard in the passage, unable to meet Myrna’s eyes as she repeated the phrases that stuck out in her mind and refused to escape. They only managed to look up when they finished and their granny said nothing, the silence between them so thick and 

Myrna looked like fury hardly contained - white knuckled grip on her cane, expression dark, angrier than Astoria had ever seen their usually energetic grandmother in all their years. 

“Are you...are you mad at me, granny?” Astoria asked timidly, shrinking back in their chair as Myrna shook her head slightly.

“No.” Myrna got out, eyes fixed on a spot on the carpet as her jaw visibly ticked. “But I am furious with your mother. The absolute nerve of her -”

They flinched as Myrna shot to her feet, cane abandoned as she limp-paced around the carpet. “Please don’t tell her I was listening, granny, she’d get so upset with me for spying…”

“That’s her own damn fault for saying it in the first place.” Myrna snarled, then froze when Astoria let out a small whimper at the intensity of her tone. 

She let out a breath, trying to calm herself down enough so that she could school her expression back into one of neutral calm. For as angry as she was...there were more important things at hand. 

Slowly, Myrna stepped closer, kneeling in front of Astoria’s armchair after a bit of effort and clasping their hands tightly in her own.

“I want you to listen to me, and I need you to listen well. You understand?”

Astoria nodded, lowering their eyes to their clasped hands as Myrna leaned her forehead against theirs and let out a sigh.

“No human is perfect. I make mistakes, your great aunts and uncles and your cousins make mistakes, your father made mistakes in the time I knew him. Your mother is no exception - she has made many mistakes in her lifetime, Astoria, but you are not one of them, and damn her for making you think otherwise. There is not a day that goes by where I am not grateful for your birth, a day where I am not filled with joy when I come home and see the way you smile at me and welcome me back, a day where I do not love you for who you are and how proud I am to call you my grandchild.” 

Myrna squeezed their hands again as she heard Astoria sniffle, uncaring of the tears of her own that were beginning to slide down her cheeks. “Astor loved you. Balfour loved you, gods rest them both. Your cousins love you. I love you. You are so, so loved, my darling, and it breaks my heart to know that you have doubted it for even a moment as a result of someone else’s cruel words.”

She released Astoria’s hands to cup their cheeks, tilting their head down to press a few kisses to their brow. 

“What do I do, granny?” Astoria whispered, laying their hands over Myrna’s and squeezing their eyes shut. “Mum said...mum said she had me so I could be the baronet, but I don’t…”

Myrna leaned back slightly, enough to look Astoria in the eye when she tipped their chin up and waited for them to tentatively meet her gaze despite the tears that filled both their eyes. 

“Damn the barony. Damn all of it, Astoria, because the barony means nothing if you are not happy. No title, no amount of money, no amount of power, nothing is worth giving up your happiness. No matter what your mother said, you have a choice, and if that choice is throwing everything she wanted for you at her feet, then I will stand behind you because I know it is what you want. No one can make you be anything that you don’t want to be.”

Astoria tried to swipe at their cheeks, but the tears only fell faster before Myrna pulled them into a tight embrace right there on the fur rug beneath them both. They sat together a long, long while, Astoria’s face buried in Myrna’s neck and Myrna holding onto Astoria like she was afraid they’d disappear. It would only be when Astoria quieted that Myrna would speak up, her voice gentle and thick with emotion all her own that she’d been trying to keep at bay for the sake of comforting their grandchild.

“Sweetheart, I want you to think about something.” Myrna murmured, prompting Astoria to lift their head and look up at her to show she was listening. “I’m leaving next week. I have to go north, up to Prakra to speak to some colleagues, and then I’ll be going to Firent to work on a dig site. I’ll be gone from here for about two months, perhaps longer if I’m asked elsewhere. But...I want you to think about coming with me this time.”

“Come with you?” Astoria echoed, and Myrna nodded, smoothing some of Astoria’s hair back from their face. 

“You’ve spent your whole life here in Rosinmoor. I want to give you the chance to see the world, see what’s beyond our home - give you a chance to see what you could possibly become.” Myrna swiped a thumb across Astoria’s damp cheek, smiling a little despite herself. “I want you to know that you have choices, and I want you to understand how much bigger life is than it is here at Castle Kintyre.”

“What...what about mom?”

“Your mother may be Baroness, but she’s sure as hell got no authority over me. If you tell me you want to go, you’re going, and if I have to fight tooth and nail to make it happen, I will.” Myrna let out a playful growl, prodding at Astoria’s sides with tickling fingers and smiling when a peal of laughter fell from their lips and they shoved her hands away. “You don’t have to decide now, but -”

Astoria shook their head, looking up at Myrna with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. “No, I...I want to go. I want to go to Prakra, Firent, anywhere you go. I want to see it all for as long as you’ll let me.”

A smile broke across Myrna’s lips, and carefully, she reached for her cane - not before bringing Astoria in for another tight embrace. 

“Trust me, my dear, you’re welcome to follow me anywhere. You’re far more welcome company than some of my other traveling companions.”