#something bad happened to my 4 year old cousin.

[pizzapizzadickz]

.

[mingis-orangejuice]

Love and Deepspace Boys with an MC that's good with children Part.3: Rafayel

Summary: Rafayel desperately calls you to help him take care of his little nephew. Rafayel can't stand him but how difficult can one little kid be?

a/n: this one is my fave out of all the fics I've written so far. I love drama queen Rafayel. I made him as dramatic as possible, he's literally jealous of a 5-year-old kid cuz you're giving him more attention. Yep that's my man and imma stick beside him

Genres/Warnings: just pure teeth rotting fluff

Word count: 1173

Other parts: 1, 2, 4

“So what do you say will you help me pretty please?” Rafayel said from the other side of the call. He had called you to ask if you’d help him with his little nephew. He was stuck taking care of him since his cousin and her husband went off on another spontaneous trip. 

“Fine, as long as you pay double, bodyguards don’t babysit for free.” you joked

“Yeah sure double, I’ll even pay triple if you want just get here quickly!” you heard a crash in the background of the call and Rafayel screaming then he hung up.

You were only joking about wanting payment you didn't really think he would agree to it, but that crash had you concerned. Why was he so desperate for your help? How bad can one little kid be?

At Rafayel’s house, you let yourself in with the spare key. You hear your boyfriend yelling, another small voice laughing and the sound of something breaking. You follow the sound to the living room. The whole room was trashed. Mess everywhere, canvases and brushes on the floor, and paint everywhere even on the ceiling. Did a tornado pass through his living room? You see Rafayel chasing a young boy around the room as he causes more trouble “Rafayel what’s going on?”

“Oh thank goodness you’re here” He stops chasing the boy and runs up to you to greet you with a hug “He’s terrible, he’s destroyed everything in my studio I don't know what to do he just won't stop” Rafayel looked like he was almost about to cry.

“Who are you?” the boy stops in front of you “Are you Uncle Rafi’s girlfriend?”

“Yeah, I am” You bend down and put out your hand to shake his. “It’s nice to meet you, sweetie, what’s your name?” 

The little boy looks up at you with a big smile, completely enamoured by you “I’m Nate. Are you really Uncle Rafi’s girlfriend you’re way too pretty for him” he looks at Rafayel and sticks his tongue out.

“Hey I'll have you know that she is my girlfriend and she loves me, so there!” Rafayel sticks his tongue out at Nate too.

“Stop it you two.” you flick Rafayel’s forehead “You’re the adult in the situation you shouldn’t let him take advantage of you” you scold him as Nate laughs under his breath

“He started it, plus he doesn’t listen, he’s just a bad kid, we should bring him to an orphanage and leave him there,” he says pointing at Nate while hiding behind you.

You sigh and turn to look at Nate. “Nate, sweetie did you mess with your uncle’s art?” he nodded shyly. “That's not very nice now, is it” This time he nodded no. “you know you’re not supposed to do that right?”

“But Uncle Rafi was being so boring, I wanted to play tag but he just wanted to paint. He said he needed silence for his work so he left me in here alone.”

You turn and look at Rafayel. “Is that true?” He also just nods, looking like he was being scolded by his own mother. “Rafayel you can’t just leave him alone with nothing to do, what did you think would happen, he’d just sit there for hours doing nothing? No wonder he did all this, he was bored. You could have at least given him something to do.”

“I don’t know what kids like to do, that's why I called you. You’re so smart and would know exactly what to do to help your boyfriend in need riiight?” he attempted to flatter you so that you’d help him.

You sigh again. “Ok well, first we have to clean up this mess...” 

“I think you should make Nate clean it up himself, to make him learn his lesson” Rafayel glared at Nate.

You gave Rafayel the “mom death stare” and he quickly shut up “We are all going to help clean and then both of you are going to apologize, ok?” 

They both look at each other and then back at you. “Ok,” they both say. reluctantly

Later after the mess had been cleaned, you three sit on the couch exhausted. You hear a little tummy rumble.  You look to Nate “Oh are you hungry, maybe we should make something to eat” You head to the kitchen and Nate follows behind you holding your hand. Rafayel see this and jumps up from the couch trying to get in between you two. You push him away “Raf seriously, you’re jealous of a 5-year-old?” he looks a little embarrassed then quietly takes your other hand on the way to the kitchen. Nate looks over and sticks his tongue out at Rafayel again without you noticing. 

You guys cook up a nice simple meal for you all to enjoy but it wasn’t easy. Throughout the whole thing, they were both fighting for your attention. Rafayel was constantly giving you little kisses while you were trying to cook and Nate would keep pulling you away to get you to lift him up so he could get different ingredients or so he could sit on the counter. You found the little fight amusing so you let it go on since it was harmless.

You’re now sitting at the table to eat and the rivalry is still going on. “Come on just eat the food” it's healthy” Rafayel begs Nate “You need to eat something”

“No! it's yucky. I don’t wanna!” Nate whined and pushed his plate away from him.

“Nate sweetie, can you please eat all your food? If you do then you’ll become strong enough to be a hunter like me” You said with a smile. Nate instantly listens and shoves spoonfuls of food into his mouth. He’s finished in no time.

Rafayel looks at you in disbelief. How did you get this little brat to listen so easily? After Nate finished eating you got him ready for an afternoon nap. He gladly listened to everything you said while constantly glancing over at Rafayel to make sure he knew that he was only going to listen to you and not him. You put Nate in a bed in one of the guest rooms and waited for him to fall asleep. Right before you and Rafayel left the room Nate sleepyily said “ Uncle Rafi You should marry her I want her to be my new auntie.” 

You both look at each other and then back at him. “That’s the plan” Rafayel looks at you and winks. 

“Good,” Nate says right before he drifts off to sleep

You and Rafayel are now back on the couch, he holds your hand and looks into your eyes. “Hey thanks for today, you were a really big help I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you” 

“You don’t have to pay me, at least not with money.” You kiss him and give him a sly grin 

“Careful if you keep that up we’ll end up making another Nate” he laughed and kissed you.

[majimemegoro]

Kamurocho dashboard simulator

🏵 tojoc0re Follow

nishiki was 27 years old???

🏵 tojoc0re Follow

he shouldnt have been made a patriarch the dragon of dojima would of been better at it :/

( 420 notes )

📸 daily-mac-photos Follow

#kamurocho #tokyo #tenkaichi street #japan landscapes #photographers of japan #travel #cyberpunk #not as zesty as my usual subject matter but #lmao pls reblog this i almost got beat up by color gang members taking this photo

( 79 notes )

🦢 chinpiraposting Follow

my hungry ass can't be left alone with staminam x i suck those bad boys down like juice

( 9,839 notes )

🚲 wackycyclist Follow

.

#the entitlement i see on this site sometimes is disgusting #y'all will just post about having easy access to bicycles??? #some of us had our bicycles wrecked in fights??? #vent #do not rb

( 3 notes )

🗡 koinodiscoqueen Follow

CALLOUT FOR SHIMANO FUTOSHI

I've talked a lot about this already on this blog, but I want to have everything collected in one post so next time some dipshit with a hannya hand icon slides into my inbox to call me a liar I can just link to this post. tl;dr shimano futoshi made my cousin feel realy unsafe while she was shaving his head, and here are the receipts:

Keep reading

( 38 notes )

🚡 matsushigeboss-deactivated30190547

fr we need to stop letting twunks be in charge of anything

( 3 notes )

🍜 i<3kazama Follow

i stg if one more of you tells me the old yakuza way is dying I KNOW ALREADY shut UP

#feel like pure shit just want cold noodles

( 1,930 notes )

📖 kamuroscamwatch Follow

today's scam: Aha water (again)

Was walking down pink street when I got stopped by a barker who promised that all my problems could be solved..., long story short, anyone remember Aha water from the 80s? Well, they rebranded as AHA water (subtle, I know) and they''re back at it. I stalked the people who make it and they literally collected puddle water from the champion district to put in the concoction. I didn't really feel well after drinking it, but the overall experience was good because they totally tapped into that nostalgia. Overall a really solid scam. Stay safe out there kamurocho.

4/5 stars

#scamblr #aha water #1980s #scams #scam rating #safety #scam review

( 12 notes )

👺 hannya69 Follow

batting center is a normal place to get nastay in reblog if u agree

( 58,274 notes )

🚗 thepocketcricuitfighter Follow

Does anyone here still play pocket circuit? :)

( 0 notes )

📈 reglarsalaryman Follow

wtf this guy just ripped off his shirt in the street and started whaling on some guys?? everyone else started clapping and cheering and I just went along with it lmao 😅 am I missing something????

#this is right after he sang a song and saved a couple from jumping off a building #he was glowing too.... #average night in kamurocho

( 85 notes )

🐛 majimaunderlingbaddiebracket Follow

ULTIMATE HOTTEST MAJIMA UNDERLING BADDIE TOURNAMENT FINALS!!!!

🔘 shinji-deactivated30190303

here y'all go again pitting two bad bitches against each other

🌀 jingusforehead Follow

🌊 thugbaby Follow

everyone who voted minami is an arson apologist #nishidasweep

( 4,271 notes )

🔥 businessboi Follow

fuck my job so much. everyone manifest an attack on millennium tower so I can go home.

🔥 businessboi Follow

by talos this can't be happening

( 38,386 notes )

[fanfictionalraven]

Faithfully

Title: Faithfully

Song Inspiration: Faithfully by Journey

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, other SPN characters

Word Count: 4, 904

Warnings: Pregnancy

Author's Note: This was an anonymous request. Such a beautiful song and so perfect for Dean. Thanks for the idea Anon!!

Highway run into the midnight sun,

Wheels go ‘round and ‘round, you’re on my mind,

Restless hearts, sleep alone tonight,

Sendin’ all my love along the wire.

“Another?” The bartender asks Dean, pointing to the beer he’d been nursing for a while.

“No thanks. Work tomorrow,” Dean tells him, tossing some cash onto the bar. He and Sam had rolled into town a little earlier in the day. Some case Sam had found; a witch or shifter or…something. Dean couldn’t remember. 

“Leaving so soon?” A sultry voice asks. Dean looks over to find a gorgeous, young blonde sliding onto the booth beside him. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and leans forward to highlight her ample breasts. A hand reaches for his knee but Dean catches her wrist.

“Sorry, Sweetheart. Not happening,” he tells her, letting her go. She rolls her eyes and stands, moving to her next target. Dean laughs lightly, shaking his head.

A few years ago, that would have been all the invitation he’d have needed. They would have wandered out to the Impala, maybe made it back to her place for a night of meaningless sex, and he would have returned to Sam first thing in the morning, satisfied. But all that had changed almost a year ago.

As he heads out of the bar and into the cold, he pulls his phone out, smiling at the screen. The picture that greets him is one of his favorites. It’s from the small “vacation” the two of you had taken only a couple months ago. It was one of Bobby’s old safe houses he’d told Dean about; a beautiful little cabin out by a lake. Dean had snapped the picture of you sitting on the small dock, feet dangling off the edge. You’d teased him about pursuing a career in photography after seeing it.

He finds your name with ease and calls as he climbs into the driver’s seat of his car. It rings twice before you pick up.

“Hey,” you answer. Dean smiles immediately at your voice.

“Hey,” he replies. “Bad time?”

“For you? Never,” you laugh lightly. He smiles even wider at your laugh.

“Still in Utah?” The familiar sound of the Impala’s engine roaring to life comes through the phone.

“Yea. Found the nest though. Taking it out tonight,” you tell him, as you lean back against your car.

“On your own?” Dean asks, voice laced with concern.

“No, Dean,” you say, smiling to yourself. “I’m not stupid, ya know?”

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N,” he says. “Just…you know…”

“Awwww. You worried about me, Winchester?” You tease him, pushing off the car and walking to your trunk.

“Always,” he admits, almost too quietly for you to hear. Almost. Your smile softens as you open the trunk, glancing around at your weapons.

“You just calling to check up on me?” You ask, pulling a machete out to check the blade.

“No…just…missed you,” he confesses. You swing the machete around quickly to test it out. “Haven’t seen you since…”

“The cabin,” you finish. “I know. I miss you too.”

The two of you had been off and on for the majority of the time you’d known each other. It had mostly been a friends with benefits situation until last year. Suddenly, you were way more on than off. It was starting to feel like a real relationship. You hadn’t slept with anyone else and Dean said he hadn’t. You trusted him, of course.

“I’ve been thinking…” Dean starts, seemingly getting the subject away from…feelings.

“Haven’t hurt yourself, have ya?” You ask. You can practically hear Dean roll his eyes.

“Will you shut up? I’m trying to be serious here,” he tells you. You laugh and slam the trunk closed, machete in hand. Your cousin’s car pulls up, parking next to your own. You smile and wave at her.

“Serious. Right. Sorry. Go ahead,” you say.

“I was thinking you should come to the bunker,” he says. You smile and roll your eyes.

“I was planning to come by after this,” you tell him. He sighs and cuts the engine off, having reached the motel.

“No, Y/N. That’s not what I meant,” he says. You hold up a finger to your cousin, asking her to give you a minute when she gets out of the car. “You should move…into the bunker…with me.” You’re mid swing on the machete when he asks, causing you to freeze. The machete slips from your hand, landing near your cousin.

“Jesus, Y/N!!” She snaps. You wave a hand at her in apology as you walk away. 

“What are you saying, Dean?” You asks. He lets out a chuckle. 

“I’m saying that…I’ve really started to hate sleeping alone, sleeping without you. I hate waking up without you,” he starts. “Now, I don’t wanna tie you down or anything. Do your hunts, whatever you want. I just want the bunker to be…home.” You hold the phone away for a moment and breathe deeply. You were mere moments from clearing a vampire nest. You weren’t about to cry. Returning the phone to your ear, you can’t help but smile.

“Dean,” you say. “I’ll go anywhere you go. You’re already my home.” Dean smiles and closes his eyes for a second, thanking anyone who was listening.

They say that the road ain’t no place to start a family,

Right down the line, it’s been you and me,

And lovin’ a music man ain’t always what it’s supposed to be,

Oh, girl, you stand by me,

I’m forever yours,

Faithfully.

You walk into the kitchen of the bunker one morning, stretching. Sam’s already sitting at the table, his laptop open in front of him. You smile at him widely and walk over, kissing his cheek quickly.

“Morning, Sammy,” you tell him. He looks at you and laughs lightly.

“Good morning,” he says, watching as you walk over to the counter, humming. You pour yourself a cup of coffee, swaying to the music in your head. “You’re awful perky this morning.”

“Am I?” You ask, glancing back at him. He laughs and nods. You shrug, leaning against the counter. 

“I guess you two had a good Valentine's Day?” He asks. 

“We had a great Valentine’s Day,” you laugh. 

“Well, I’m glad,” Sam tells you, looking back at his computer. Dean comes in, a smile to rival yours plastered on his face. He walks over and kisses you quickly before getting his own coffee. Sam looks at the two of you and starts to laugh. “Is that a hickey??” He asks. You and Dean exchange glances before Dean moves your hair from your shoulder, examining your neck briefly. He smirks.

“Looks like it,” he says. You laugh and shrug at Sam.

“I said it was great,” you tell him. Dean smiles and pulls you in for another kiss, your arms snaking around his neck.

“I found a case. If either of you care,” Sam announces. Dean sighs as he let you go and turns to his brother, taking a drink of his coffee. “Stacy Altman, 19 year old babysitter from Hudson, Ohio was murdered last night,” he says. Dean nods slightly.

“Oh, that blows. But if her name’s not Amara, how is that us?” He asks. You lean against Dean and he wraps his arm around your waist.

“Because her heart was ripped out,” Sam tells you both. You grimace and Dean nods.

“On Valentine’s Day? What is that, like an ironic werewolf? Alright, we’ll check it out. But first, I need bacon.” Dean gives your waist a squeeze then looks down at you. “You coming?”

“Think I’ll hang back, keep working this Amara thing,” you tell him, going to leave the kitchen. Dean smirks and gives your ass a quick smack. You let out a squeak of surprise and look back at him as you go into the hallway. You just hear Sam mutter something about the two of you being disgusting as you head back towards your bedroom.

Glancing over your shoulder, you close the door behind you before locking yourself in the bathroom. You look at yourself in the mirror, take a deep breath, then pick up the stick you had left on the counter earlier.

“Please be negative,” you mumble a quick prayer.

You and Dean had only been together for about a year. You were both hunters. God’s sister was currently on the loose and very much out to end the world. This had to be the absolute worst timing. The two of you hadn’t even discussed starting a family. It certainly wasn't on your radar and you couldn’t imagine it was on Dean’s either.

You’d bought the pregnancy test a few days ago when your period failed to make its monthly appearance. You hadn’t mentioned anything to Dean yet, didn’t want him freaking out over nothing. Cause that’s all this was, of course. Nothing.

The timer you had set on your phone goes off and you nearly jump out of your skin. You flip the test over and…

**

About a day later, Dean pulls the Impala into the garage of the bunker. He sighs as he cuts the car off and lays his head against the steering wheel. Sam looks at him and smiles a little.

“Dean, it’s not that big of a deal. It’s not like you cheated on her,” he says. Dean shakes his head slightly.

“Doesn’t feel different,” he says. “We just had this great day, things were going so well…”

“She won’t be upset, Dean. Come on,” he says, getting out of the car. Dean frowns then gets out as well. They both get their bags and then head to their respective bedrooms. Dean tosses his bag into the corner then sits on the edge of the bed, running his hands over his face.

You make your way down to the room nervously, wringing your hands. You’d been practicing your speech ever since you’d read the test. You had it all planned out and were absolutely prepared to tell Dean. That was until he’d told you they were headed home. The minute you’d received that text, your nerves had gotten the better of you. You had been running every possible bad scenario, each one worse than the last.

“Dean?” You ask, stepping into the bedroom. You frown when you see him so distraught. “What’s wrong??” You ask. He pats the spot next to him and you bite your lip as you walk over. He knows. He already knows and he’s breaking up with me. You sit down next to him and he turns to face you.

“This case…it was a witch, a curse…it was passed by kissing. I kissed the woman who had it and got it passed to me so she was safe,” he explains. You let out a breath and take his hands in your own.

“Dean, did you think I’d be upset about that?” You ask with a laugh. He sighs and shakes his head.

“I’m not finished,” he tells you. Your smile falls slightly and he looks at your hands. “The curse, it takes the form of your deepest, darkest desire and then that person or whatever kills you.”

“I’m…guessing that wasn’t me,” you say. He shakes his head. “Amara?” You already knew before he said anything else. From the moment she’d been freed from her cage, she had some weird connection to Dean. It had only been a few weeks since he told you that she’d kissed him and he couldn’t help but kiss her back. It stung, sure, but you knew it wasn’t Dean.

“I don’t want this, Y/N. I don’t want her. I just can’t shake this hold she has on me. Sitting here with you right now, I want nothing more than to kill her,” he starts quickly. “But when I’m around her, I can’t do anything.” You let his hands go and take his face gently, raising it up to meet yours. You press a soft, gentle kiss to his lips.

“I’m not mad at you, Dean. I know you love me. We’ll shake this Amara thing soon enough and get back to normal,” you assure him. “You and me. And…whoever else comes along.” He looks up at you, confused. You smile at him and stand, walking over to the desk. It isn’t until now that Dean notices the small gift bag sitting on it. “It’s a little late for Valentine’s now but…” You shrug and hand him the bag. He raises a skeptical eyebrow at you before pulling the pink and blue tissue paper out of it. He looks into the bag, then up at you quickly.

“Is this…” He stops before sliding the contents of the bag into his hand. His hands shake as he flips it around, trying to find the little screen for confirmation.

Pregnant.

“Oh my god,” he says, staring down at the test in his hand. “This is…”

A mistake. The worst possible timing. Not what I want at all. You brace yourself against the desk behind you, waiting for the death blow.

“This is…incredible,” Dean says finally, looking up at you. There are tears in his eyes threatening to spill over but his face changes the second his eyes meet yours. “Are you okay?” He asks, jumping up quickly. His hands come to rest on your shoulders as he looks you over. “Y/N, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Which…is really saying something for us.”

“You’re happy,” you say quietly, looking at him. His brow furrows in confusion as he takes in your state.

“What? Of course I’m happy!! I mean…” He stops and shrugs. “Timing could be better but…a baby!!” He lets out a laugh and lifts you into a tight hug, spinning you around the room. You squeal and laugh as well, tears of sheer joy and relief streaming down your cheeks. “I’m gonna be a dad!! Sammy!!” He calls out, setting you on your feet. He grabs your hand and pulls you down the hallway quickly. 

Circus life under the big-top world,

We all need the clowns to make us smile,

Through space and time, always another show,

Wonderin’ where I am lost without you,

3…2…1…*beep, beep, beep*

You stare into the microwave as the light goes out. Popping the door open, you grab the bottle and test the milk on your wrist. Perfect temp. You turn to go feed your three month old son and accidentally send the stack of neglected and dirty dishes crashing to the floor. 

“Dammit,” you curse, setting the bottle on the counter. Kneeling down, you start to pick up the pieces of the shattered dishes and old food.

“Y/N?” Mary asks, stepping into the room. “What happened?” She comes over quickly to help. You glance up at her and shake your head before hissing in pain. You’d managed to cut your hand on a shard of glass. “Oh, Y/N.” Falling back against the counter behind you, your emotions overwhelm you.

“I can’t do this anymore, Mary,” you cry.

Dean and Sam were missing. They had taken on Lucifer once again and this time he was possessing the president. That was almost two months ago. For two months you've been struggling to take care of your newborn son on your own. Sure, you had Cas and Mary but it wasn’t the same. D.J. needed his father.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I…what do you need me to do?” She asks, handing you a dish towel. Wrapping it around your cut hand, you glance back up at the bottle.

“Could you feed D.J. for me? I just…I need a minute,” you tell her. 

“Of course,” she says. She gives your arm a quick, reassuring squeeze before leaving you alone in the kitchen.

You lay your head back against the counter and close your eyes, allowing the tears to fall once again as you contemplate life as a single mother. You knew this life was risky, of course. You knew there was always a chance one of you wouldn’t come back from a hunt. You just didn’t expect it to be two months into actually being parents.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Cas asks, when he sees you. You shake your head, eyes still squeezed closed as you cry.

Cas frowns as he walks over, taking in the disaster that is the kitchen. He hesitates for a moment before carefully sitting down next to you. You lay your head over on his shoulder as the sobs rake through your body. Cas shifts awkwardly and you feel his arm come around your shoulders, comfortingly. The pain alleviates in your hand and you pull it from the towel, perfectly healed.

“Thank you,” you mumble between sobs.

“I wish there was more I could do,” he says. You wipe at your cheeks and shake your head.

“Please stop blaming yourself. You followed the plan,” you tell him, laying your head back on his shoulder. 

The two of you sit in silence for a while, you don’t know how long. Eventually, you sit up and find a clean part of the partially bloodied towel to wipe your face. You rise from the floor and look at the mess at your feet before taking in the rest of the kitchen. You’d really let things slide lately. You sigh and shake your head, going to get the trash can. Mary comes back into the kitchen.

“No,” she says. You stop and look at her.

“What?” You ask, confused.

“You need to go get some rest. Take a shower. Take a nap. Refresh and reset,” she tells you, taking the trash can from your hand.

“Mary, there’s too much to do,” you respond, looking around at the kitchen again. It wasn’t just the kitchen either. You knew the library, war room, and bedrooms needed your attention as well.

“Castiel and I will take care of it,” she says, sending a pointed look to the angel as he gets up from the floor. He nods, looking at you.

“Of course,” he says. Looking between the two, you realize there’s no point in arguing. You were absolutely exhausted, barely able to get any sleep the last two months. Mary smiles at you, reassuringly.

“Shower. Bed,” she tells you. You sigh and nod, reaching for the baby monitor but Mary snatches it up quickly. “I’ve got him too.”

“Okay,” you surrender, holding your hands up.

You head down the hall and steal a quick peek in at your son, sleeping soundly in his crib. Continuing down the hall, you go into yours and Dean’s bedroom, closing the door behind you. One hour-long, steaming hot shower later, you slip into one of Dean’s t-shirts then under the covers. You don’t expect sleep to overwhelm you as quickly as it does. Your last thoughts are the same as they’ve been for the last two months.

Where are you, Dean?

And being apart ain’t easy on this love affair,

Two strangers learn to fall in love again,

I get the joy of rediscovering you,

Oh, girl, you stand by me,

I’m forever yours,

Faithfully.

Dean smiles politely at the waitress, taking his order. She was clearly flirting with him even though he’d told her about you and D.J. She walks off to put his order in, dinner for him and Sam to go, and he pulls his phone out to call you. It rings three times before you pick up.

“Hey,” you say, smiling. You’re sitting in the library, having just gotten D.J. down for the night.

“I miss you,” he says with a sigh. “This waitress won’t leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry. Is Dean Winchester complaining about being hit on?” You laugh. He shakes his head as he glances around, his eyes landing on the mechanical bull.

“I told her I had someone back home and a kid. She’s still flirting,” he says, watching as someone gets thrown off. He lets out a chuckle. “I was better than that,” he mumbles.

“What?” You ask.

“There’s a…a mechanical bull,” he tells you. You throw your head back, laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“I would pay to see that,” you tease him.

“Hey. I was awesome,” he assures you.

“Man. I can’t believe I missed that,” you say, still laughing. He smiles and shakes his head before someone catches his attention.

“Babe, I gotta let you go. Think I just got a lead on our case,” he says, standing up quickly. Your smile slips slightly and you nod.

“Be careful,” you tell him before he hangs up. You sigh and lean back in the chair.

**

“Dean’s been hexed. He’s losing his memory.”

That was the call you’d received from Sam earlier in the day. He thought it might be best if you were there to help. Thankfully, Mary had been in the neighborhood so she could keep D.J. for you. You’d peeled out of the garage, tires squealing as you headed for Arkansas, a 7 and a half hour drive. You make it in six.

You whip into the parking lot of the motel Sam had given you the address to and park next to the Impala. Grabbing your bag, you make for the door of the guys’ room and knock quickly. However, it isn’t Sam or Dean who answer the door but Rowena. Your shock gives way to anger almost immediately.

“Did you do this??” You snap, stepping up to her quickly. Her eyes widen in surprise before she smiles.

“Afraid not, dear,” she says. “But I am here to help.”

“Help? Are you kidding?” You ask, looking at Sam as he steps up behind Rowena.

“I know, I know. But...I didn’t know where else to go,” he explains. You sigh and glance around, spotting Dean sitting on one of the beds. He’s laughing at whatever he’s watching on the TV. He looks over and his eyes lock with yours before he smiles widely.

“Hi,” he says, standing. He remembered you. You smile as you walk over to him.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” You ask, your hands resting on his arms. He looks down at your hands then back at you.

“Much better now that you're here,” he says, his smile turning into a smirk. “I’m, ugh…I’m…”

“Dean,” Sam says, frowning.

“Yea. I’m Dean,” he says, introducing himself. Your smile fades as you take a step back. He didn’t remember you. It was worse than you’d thought. Sam’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder and you shake your head.

“I need some air,” you say quietly before leaving the room. Dean frowns as you go and Sam sighs, ushering him to the bathroom to talk. He explains the situation to him, reminding him of everything, everyone. Dean runs a hand over his face.

“So, after everything…that’s it. This is what nails me,” he says. Sam shakes his head quickly.

“No. No, no. Dean. I-it,” he stops and takes a deep breath. “It’s not gonna happen, all right?” Dean looks at him and Sam can see the fear in his eyes.

“Well, you just told me my whole life story. And I gotta be honest, man. I…I can feel it, slipping out of my head. I mean ganking monsters is one thing. But this…” He covers his face with his hands. “I forgot Y/N and my own son.”

“We’ll figure it out. We will,” Sam assures his older brother before standing up. He leaves the bathroom and finds you outside the door.

“Can I?” You ask, pointing to it. Sam nods and steps out of the way. You push the door open slightly and peek in. Dean is standing over the sink, staring at himself in the mirror.

“Okay. My name is Dean Winchester. Sam is my brother. Ugh, Mary Winchester is my mom. Cast - Cas is my best friend. Y/N is my wi…girlfr…” He stops and you sigh before stepping into the bathroom. 

“Girlfriend,” you provide. He looks over at you then down, embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you tell him, leaning back against the door. He walks over quickly and wraps you up in a tight hug as though clinging to your very memory for dear life.

“I don’t remember what he looks like,” he says quietly. You can hear the crack in his voice, the emotion choking him up. You’re fighting tears yourself now.

“Just like you. Your eyes and everything,” you say.

“What’s D.J. even stand for?” He asks, still clinging onto you.

“Dean Junior,” you tell him. He nods and looks down at you. “You didn’t really want to name him after you but I insisted. Cause I want him to be just like his father.” He smiles a little before leaning his forehead against yours. “We’re gonna fix you, Dean. I swear.” There’s a knock on the door and you glance back.

“Y/N, we need to go,” Sam says.

“I’m coming,” you call back to him. You look up at Dean once more and take his face in your hands. You stand up on your toes, closing the distance between the two of you, and kiss him. You had to tell yourself this wouldn’t be the last kiss the two of you would share. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he tells you. You can’t be sure if he actually means it or if he’s saying it back to spare your feelings at this point. Did he even remember how much you two loved each other? You smile at him before leaving the bathroom and following Sam out the door. Dean rushes out behind you to the desk inside the room. Rowena watches as he jots down a quick note and sticks it in his front pocket. He glances at her and she raises an eyebrow. “Just a reminder…”

**

The three of you get back to the bunker later the next day, Dean’s memories restored. Mary meets you all in the garage, D.J. in her arms. Dean practically bursts from the car and rushes over, taking his son. Mary smiles as she hands him over.

“Glad you’re better,” she says, patting his shoulder. Dean smiles at her before kissing D.J.’s forehead.

“Can’t believe I forgot him,” he says quietly. You smile as you walk past, heading towards the bedroom to put your bags away. Dean watches you go before looking at his mother. “I need your help.” She nods.

“Of course. With what?” She asks. He pulls a piece of paper from his front pocket.

“I don’t remember writing it but…it’s my handwriting. And I mean…” He trails off as he hands the paper to her. She reads it and her eyes widen before looking back up at him.

A few minutes later, Dean comes down to the bedroom and leans against the door frame, watching you. You’re busy taking the clothes from both of your go bags and putting them into the hamper to take care of later. You glance back and smile.

“I figured you’d still be spending time with D.J.”

“Wanted to spend time with you,” he says, walking in. He closes the door before walking over and wrapping his arms around you. You smile as you slip your arms around his neck. He leans in and kisses you gently, his hands sliding over your waist slowly. He pulls away too soon and you lean in again. He laughs lightly. “Hold on.”

“I don’t really want to,” you laugh.

“I wanna give you something,” he says. You raise an eyebrow at him as he reaches into his pocket. He pulls a folded piece of paper out and holds it up between the two of you. “I wrote this at some point during the whole…hexed thing.” You take it, giving him a skeptical look. He seems nervous and you can’t figure out why. You unfold the piece of paper slowly.

Dean. If you survive this, marry Y/N.

It was scratched onto the paper quickly and sloppily but it was for sure Dean’s handwriting. You can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips as you look back up at Dean. He’s watching you, trying to read your face, as he reaches into his pocket once again. This time he produces a ring.

“Oh my god,” you whisper.

“I, ugh…I thought I was going to have to save up to buy a ring but,” he stops and shrugs. “Mom gave me hers. Didn’t even ask. Said she wanted you to have it.”

“Oh my god,” you say again, swallowing thickly.

“Marry me, Y/N?” He asks. You take a shaky breath as the tears finally start to fall.

“Yes,” you tell him. He smiles widely and pulls you in for another kiss. This time you pull away too soon, holding your left hand up. “I want my ring.” He laughs lightly as he looks at it.

“Dad had it inscribed. I didn’t know that. Mom just showed it to me,” he says. You take it and hold it up, trying to read the inside. You smile widely as you make out the two words. They couldn’t have been more true for the two for you. He takes the ring back and slides it onto your left hand before lifting you and tossing you onto the bed.

Forever yours.

****

Forever Tags: @roseblue373

[its-in-the-woods]

Coyote Head - Part 4 - Dinner with Family

master list

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean 

Alternative Universe where I make things up cause I can

Synopsis: Sit down at a family dinner, and sleeping in are good for Lucy for now

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning:  Animal/people death, blOod/G0re, nightmares, Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Eventually: Older Man/Younger Woman, Horror themes, long form fic,

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. So you have been warned. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

The gravel crunches under the tires as they all pull in, kids in the back jumping over seats as Lucy and Cooper open the doors. Old trucks parked in the drive, besides Margie’s new SUV. One thing about Harris: he always made sure Margie had exactly what she wanted.

The sprawling log home stands proudly among a mix of pine, poplar, and spruce trees. The home had been built from the trees on the property, a red tin roof on top. Big wrap-around porch that had equally as large windows on each side. The place was a carefully crafted piece of art that the Maclean’s had built many years ago. Long before the land was farmed, logged, and changed to what it currently was. The Maclean was an old family, and many of the log homes in the area were built by the family. It made Lucy miss the log home she had grown up in. 

Inside the home, a smell of fresh bread, and chatter of laughter echoed in the living room. Margie standing in the kitchen popping bread onto metal racks. Two large dishes of lasagna sat out, a big caesar salad in the middle. Lucy’s second cousins Tracy and Bert were over with their spouses Reg and Stephanie respectively. Their six kids hang out in the big living room with Cooper’s two. Some elaborate game of cards was going on, what the rules were was anyone’s guess. Seeing the kids laugh and giggle at their made-up game made Lucy’s heart swell. She had never thought of herself as a Mom, life and whatnot;  but something about being around the littles always made her wonder about the ‘what if’s’. 

“How can I help, Aunty,” Lucy asked as Cooper went and started putting plates out on the dining table. She watched the man move, he was both graceful and room-filling. 

“Well don’t touch any of the cooking, 'cause we want it to be edible,” Margie jokes, Lucy smiles. She’d never been much of a cook. Lucy, Norm, and their Grandparents had lived off many frozen meals during planting and harvesting. Shirley could cook fine, but her cooking took time and a whole lot of cutting. In the winter it was stew, roast squash, baked potatoes, and local corn. Lucy had never had much time to learn to cook. 

“Well now that I am round more, maybe you can teach me a few things,” Lucy smiles at her Aunt helping her to place each dish on the big dining table. 

“Better make sure I got the ‘tinguisher on hand, maybe a few extra blankets,” Margie jokes some more, winking at Lucy. She meant no harm, Lucy had burnt just as much food as she had undercooked it in her time.  

Lucy chuckled, grabbing glasses and a few pitchers of juice. The place was set up, some budded willows graced the center of the table. Getting the kids to sit was another matter, but the promise of haskap pie and ice cream had them in their places. Harris said grace as was a custom, Lucy noticed that Cooper, who had sat beside her, didn’t repeat the words. She didn’t have much thoughts on religion, Grandpa Tim had always read the bible before bed, usually sitting at his dining table flipping through the rice paper thin pages, while he jotted down notes in a big notebook. You’d never see him at church. Nor would you see him preaching to anyone. He never even really talked about it with her either. She couldn’t remember Grandma Shirley mentioning it either. On bad days she would sit with a rosary, light a candle or two. Lucy had never really thought it odd till now. Their whole family had always gone to church, but not them. 

The wooden house was full of loud voices, laughter, and the click of knives and forks. It was the most lively Lucy had felt in a long time. Even despite the little to no sleep she had gotten.  Cooper was telling stories of wrangling cattle and bison in the south. Harris was talking about fighting fires in the north, running machinery right into blazes to save houses. The large meal of lasagne and fresh bread was mostly picked over. Some vanilla ice cream and fresh pie are being served now. Tracy was bugging Margie about getting the recipe from her. Her Mom teased about how it was nothing but store-bought. Everyone at the table knew that was a whole load of scabbie potatoes.

“So what did you all see along the forest line,” Harris asked, wringing his hand, as coffee and tea were placed on the table. 

Cooper and Lucy had scooted down the table to sit closer to Harris. Lucy’s cousin doing the same so that all the adults were more huddled for any story. 

“Ahh well we saw a few things out there,” Cooper says, voice strained, looking back at Lucy for input. 

Lucy put her spoon down a little louder than she intended, the adults turning to look at her. She felt like a bird caught in a cage, trying to find its way out. 

“Sorry,” Lucy said, “We only got about half of the place looked at before we came.” Lucy wondered how she could explain what they had seen. “There was a stump stripped of all its barks and -” She looked to make sure the kids couldn’t hear,” There was a fresh coyote head sitting on top of it.”

Silence fell at the last words, the others exchanging looks. Lucy’s stomach-turning, the image of the poor critter’s head on a slab was not a favorite. Her mind wandering back to the shadows she had seen less than twenty-four hours ago. Was it all connected somehow? 

“We didn’t get close to it. So we kept walking to where the ATV trails are and, umm, we saw some tracks or maybe an animal digging” Lucy looks over at Cooper, hoping he could maybe explain what they had seen a bit better than she did. 

Cooper digs his phone out, “Yeah these,” He flips open his camera and pulls up the photos. The phone is passed around to each person. Uncle Harris pulls out his reading glasses zooming in on the picture. 

“How big are these tracks?” Harris asks, looking up over his glasses. Concern filling everyone in the room as they looked back at the two. 

Cooper looks at the man, furrowing his brow as he thinks, “Maybe a foot and a bit? Maybe less”

Lucy nods, “Center is probably twice the size of my fist, and at least as long as my forearm and hand. Maybe a little wider where the three points are.”

Stephanie looks it over, her eyebrows raised. “Can you send me this Cooper? I know a few folks in fish and wildlife that can take a look. Maybe come out and look at the head?”

“Yeah, I can send the photos,” Cooper replies, turning his phone off and putting it in front of him. 

“If y’all want to come over that’s fine, the place is a little bit of a mess.” Lucy sighed, fiddling with her fingers, “But, if you think you might have an idea what it is, I am all ears.”

Stephanie looked over at Bert, who had gone to pick up a very sleepy-looking toddler, “What do you think honey?”

Bert smiles, clearly not having heard much of what has been said, “I am sure we can figure something out, maybe we should talk to–” He ponders for a moment, looking for the name, “ Betty, right?”

“Yes, Betty would know. She’s been around her longer than the dirt,” Stephanie grins back at Bert grabbing the little one out of his arms. “Unfortunately I think we got to get our kiddlets back home. Lisa here is exhausted, and Thomas has school in the morning.” 

Margie is up out of her chair, “Let me grab a pie for tomorrow,”

Tracy has come back from putting on some cartoons for the kids, some ridiculous jingle now covering up their conversation. Reg rubs her back as she sits down, 

Bert comes out of the living room with another sleeping child, an older boy who has drool and snot running down his face. “Lucy, make sure to get our numbers from Harris. So we can keep in touch.” 

Lucy nods, “Yeah that’s a great idea, I will keep you updated if anything pops up.” 

Bert and Stephanie wave goodbye as they make their way to the front door with a large bag of various foods from Margie. Margie coming back into the kitchen, she goes into a cabinet and pulls out a bottle of whisky along with several glasses.

Tracey clears her throat, “Do you think it could have been a person? Maybe? Trying to scare you off the land or some such thing?”

Sighing Lucy happily accepts the glass of whisky from her Aunt, “Besides those tracks, and the coyote head. Everything is pointing that way.” 

“Maybe there is a reason Uncle Tim didn’t want the forest around his land messed with,” Tracy added her hand covering Reg’s hand, as she looks at Lucy, an unreadable expression on her face. 

Harris coughing at the head of the table, everyone turning to look at him.“I doubt Lucy would mess with anything Tim had.”

“Nope, haven’t really ventured into the forest much at all. But that might have to change. Make sure no one has been coming onto the land without my knowledge.” Lucy spoke, it was always in the back of her mind that someone could be hiding in the woods without her knowledge. The place was mostly fenced, but would only stop honest people. 

“Do you think someone is camping on the land?” Tracy asks, looking at her relatives. Taking her glass from Margie and sipping on it. 

“Don’t know about that, didn’t see any signs of anyone walking around.” Lucy sighs, looking over at Coop when his thigh touches her. She pushes back against it, letting a small amount of comfort in.”Know that Henry was not happy about me getting the land. None of them were happy actually.”

“Henry has the money. Probably hiring someone to scare you off,” Margie added, her brows knitted together, as she brought some tea to her lips. 

“Well he can do what he likes, not much is gonna stop me stayin’ there,” Lucy says, her fingers rubbing over the rim of the glass. If someone had asked her that question several hours ago, she may have had a different answer; but right now, in the safety of her Uncle’s home, she felt confident she could say. 

“Besides you got us, we'll make sure that no one will mess with ya,” Cooper adds, rubbing one hand over her shoulder. Lucy really wishes he would keep his hand on her.  

Lucy nods her head, it was reassuring to know that she had all of them on her side. The table going silent for a moment as they sip their drinks. The sun was nearly down, bathing the room in a soft golden light. Lucy trying her best not to let her mind run over the whole day again. She could feel her own exhaustion tugging at her mind. 

Reg let out a yawn, Tracy rubbing his arm. “We should probably get our own rugrats, go to school, and all that.”

Tracy nodded, “Have Sunday dinner this weekend? You both should come over too,” She nods to Cooper and Lucy. 

Lucy, put her cup down, nodding her head, “Yeah, I would like that, be nice to have regular get-togethers.” 

“That would be wonderful,” Reg says, scooping one of his kids up. “Maybe once things have calmed down we can come by. The kids always loved Uncle Tim’s farm.”

“Uncle Tim’s dead,” Reg's son spoke from behind his leg. The little guy peering up at Lucy. The kid had silver blue eyes, and nearly white-blonde hair, standing just below his Dad’s hips in height. His eyes were wide as he blinked a few times, tears forming. 

Cooper ducks down beside him, “Hey, Kiddo. It’s okay.” The little man let out a muffled sob as Cooper scoops him up, the little kid hanging off the adult. 

“Oh sweet Freddy. Got all the big emotions and nowhere to put him.” Tracey coes, before offering to take him out of Cooper’s arms. “Time for sleep.”

Lucy felt her stomach turn as she watches the family of six walk towards the front door. It was hard to see the little guy upset over the loss. It made her uncomfortable not knowing how to help him.  Little Freddy was still crying against his Mom’s hair, the three older girls filing behind. They all had brown hair, and brown eyes, all looking to be a few years apart. The older two could have almost been twins. Hugs were traded and promises of Sunday dinner were planned before the clan took off into the night. 

Coop comes over, covering his two kiddos with a blanket and turning down the cartoon jingling away. He came back, his hand running over Lucy’s shoulder before sitting down. 

“Probably should be going soon too,” Cooper sighs, having another sip of his drink, “Make sure Mom and Dad are okay.”

“How are your folks doing?” Margie asks, adding a bit more to his glass and Lucy’s. 

“Dad’s rough, Mom-” Cooper shifts in his seat, looking down at his glass, the dark look crossing his face again. “She’s doing the best she can considering. Doctor says maybe a year or two.”

Harris rubs at his eyes a little, Lucy watching him compose himself before speaking, “Whatever you need, you let us know." His voice shook a bit as he spoke, "I know your family is tight, but we all need to look after each other. We are all family here, okay?”

Cooper nods a tight smile on his face, “Thank you, Sir. I really appreciate it. We can use all the help we can get.”

Lucy reaches over and squeezes his hand, “ Like you said we are just a phone call away.”

***

Waking up soaked in sweat was the last thing that Lucy wanted to do. She was bolt upright in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, with the fading nightmare of headless corpses hanging from trees dancing in her vision. Deep ragging breaths echoed in the small space, and the familiar sound of frogs and crickets echoed outside the open window.   

“You are in your Aunt and Uncle's house,” Lucy breathed out, closing her eyes and taking a sharp inhale. “It was just a dream, there is nothing coming to get you.”

Flipping a layer off the bed Lucy felt around for her phone, it was four-thirty in the morning. In a few more hours the sun would be up, and the world would have light again. She grabbed a sip of water, turning off her phone, and trying to get comfortable. As her eyes closed the visions of the bodies danced into her mind again, like some kind of horror dance party. Groaning, she rolled over, willing the images out of her mind. 

“Happy thoughts, Lucy. We cannot lose any more sleep over this,” Lucy murmured, trying to come up with something more soothing. An image of Cooper staring at her, popping into Lucy’s head. Her eyes shot open, her face going pink. "How old are you, Lucy." 

She thought about it for a moment, was it really the worst thing that she could think of? Yes, the man was older than her, had kids, and had lost his wife. Lucy cringed at the last thought, she rubbed her forehead. What was she doing, lying here thinking about a man she barely knew? Who had flown to her aid, and stood beside her despite the dead animal head in her backyard. 

Rubbing her eyes Lucy debates getting up or letting her half-asleep ass dream about someone who wasn’t interested in her. Remembering how he had leaned his knee against her, rubbed her shoulder, and let her hold his hand as he talked about his father. 

“Ugh, stop. No more death. At least for this instant,” Lucy mumbles quietly into the empty room, trying not to let her thoughts spiral out of control. 

Closing her eyes she decides to indulge herself a little, after the mess she had gone through what was a little fantasy. Letting herself think about them walking through a not haunted forest, maybe holding hands, going camping with the kids. She didn't hold back the smile as she let herself drift, after all, it was only a dream.

***

A knock on the door awoke Lucy out of a dead sleep, she blinked at the light shining around the window. Her fuzzy brain trying to put two and two together, remembering where she was. How she’d gotten there and why someone would be waking her up. 

“Lucy, sorry to wake you,” Aunt Margie calls, her voice just loud enough to hear through the wooden door. 

Grabbing her phone she realized it was past ten in the morning. She cussed, upset that she hadn't set an alarm last night. Normally she would have been up at the latest eight, groaning as she sat up, swinging herself onto the edge of the bed. 

“I will be out in a few Aunt Margie!” Lucy calls out, grabbing her clothes. Once again shaking her head at forgetting something fresh. Oh well, she'd have to change at home, and a good shower too. The thought of hot water spurred her on, as she groaned, body stiff from the long sleep. Setting the bed, she grabs her phone and races out the door. Margie stands at the counter, a fresh pot of coffee in hand.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” The woman smiles at her, handing her a cup of hot coffee. Before going over to the stove.  “I got coffee and put on a couple eggs for you.”

“You are too kind to me, Aunt Margie,” Lucy replies, eagerly grabbing the hot cup of coffee. “I am so sorry that I slept in. Usually, my alarm goes off automatically.”

Her Aunt waves a hand, scooping eggs and toast onto a plate for her. “Nonsense, I am so glad you were able to sleep in.” She hands Lucy the plate. Going around the counter with her cup of coffee to sit at the makeshift bar. “I have a feeling you haven’t been sleeping well.”

Lucy sat down using her toast to break the egg yolk and dip it in. “Oh boy, that would be an understatement. I don't really know why, but, I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night.”

Margie sat down beside her, eating her own toast with jam. “Nightmares?”

Lucy nods as she works on swallowing her food, “Yes, actually, how’d you know?”

Margie hums for a moment taking a sip of her tea, looking out towards the tree line outside. “Oh you know, new house, moving back from the city. Can take a little getting used to is all.”

Something twinging in Lucy, as she watches her Aunt. She sips on more of her coffee, trying to will the feeling away, why would her Aunt not be honest with her? 

“Yeah, I am sure that’s it,” Lucy says with a fake smile, as she finishes up her food. “I should probably be on my way-” The realization that she didn’t have a vehicle hitting her. “Oh, I didn’t bring my own car.”

“Oh, Cooper said he’d come by and pick you up,” Margie says, somehow the tension is leaving between the two of them. 

Lucy blinks a few times, wondering if she could possibly walk back home. “Oh, he didn’t need to do that.”

“I think he was looking forward to it if I am honest Lucy.” Margie winks at her, “The man has been alone, with his kids and dying Father for six years. I am sure he enjoys getting to spend some time with another adult that isn't family.”

Trying to choke down some more coffee to hide her face, it is most certainly bright pink. “Yeah, I don’t mind the company.”

Margie gives Lucy a knowing look, raised eyebrows and all. She goes to speak when a knock on the door stops her. She squeezes Lucy’s shoulder as she goes to get it. Lucy sitting a little straighter in her chair as she hears Cooper’s voice. 

“Hey,” Cooper says, he almost looks nervous, fiddling with his hat in his hand. “Was wondering, if you’d be okay if we went to check on the cows this morning before I bring yah home of course.” 

Lucy smiles back, she can’t help herself. Getting him all flustered was going to be a new favorite pastime of hers. “Yah, pretty sure I owe you on that one.”

Part 5

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

** If you enjoyed the fic let me know! Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated.

** Want to be on the tag list let me know

** Most of my fics will be updated once a weekish possibly more often depending on how much writing I can get done! Want to keep the quality and make sure I am putting out my best work.

[elvendria]

Clean (Formerly Love is a Battlefield)

AU Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Part One

Summary:

You return to Hawkins after a few years in the middle of the night during the summer with your 4-year-old sister in tow, thinking the two of you could fly under the radar and settle in at Forest Hills Trailer Park. You thought you could get by without bumping into your old enemy, Eddie Munson, the town freak.

But you weren't always enemies, in fact, there was a time when you two were closer than anything.

Eddie dreams of making it big, you just dream of making it out of here alive.

\\enemies - lovers//

((Warning I'm not from the US, so bare with me when it comes to states and such))

tw: 18+ MINORS DNI or I will be busting kneecaps, E.D, physical abuse, child abuse, runaways, reader is 20 and Joyce's ex-step-niece, Will and Johnathan's cousin, Joyce is Queen, Wayne is King, slow burn, gambling addictions, Eddie is 20, Chrissy is the villan but we stan grace

Word Count: 3.96K

part two part three part four

May 21st 1986

You drive the back roads as much as possible, the 1970s Dodge Challenger illuminated under the moon as you try your best to drive carefully. You didn't want to wake Willow, your 4 years old sister, sleeping in the backseat. It was drizzling rain, pouring down the windshield in sheets, how very fitting.

It had been a whirlwind, a spur-of-the-moment decision. Things had gotten to be... too much, having moved to Vegas from Hawkins a few years ago for your Dad's new telemarketer job. Willow wasn't even born yet, and after she was it didn't take long for it all to go to shit.

Pleasant conversations turned into civil discussions turned into small spats turned into full-blown fisticuffs. You could handle the occasional black eye or bust lip, you were a big girl, but the second you found out that they'd laid a hand on Will you were out of there.

The summer had just begun, and you were taking care of Willow while you were both at home. It was at least 84°F, and so you changed her out of her jammies and into a loose sundress when you noticed it. A large handprint on her arm and an even larger bruise began to form in the center of her back.

"Will, what happened?" You already knew what it was, but you hoped beyond hope that you were wrong. Mom was decent enough to hit in places you could hide unless she was drunk, hence the purpling bruise under your eye. Dad was the one to smack you if you got in his way of something. Dad would slap you and not care where it landed.

"Daddy got mad at me for playing with my dollies while he watched TV. I'm sorry sissy I didn't mean to be bad." She hung her head, to which you tilted it up to look in her eyes, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill.

"Shh Willa it's okay..." You pulled her in for a hug, careful not to hold her too tight. "How about we go on a little trip, you and me? We can go for as long as you want." She was four fucking years old. She was a child. She shouldn't be worrying about getting in trouble for playing with a goddamn toy. "You can bring all your dolls with you! They can come on the trip with us."

It never took much convincing with her. You'd soon learned that she was the kind of kid who just wanted to help others, giving them her lunch and going over to someone who was sitting alone and asking if they wanted to play jump rope with her.

You shook your head no when she asked would your parents be joining the two of you, and her eyes lit up a small bit, which made your heartbreak. Your father was known for flying off the handle, a loss at the casino was enough to put him on the warpath for weeks. If he had bet on the football game and she got in his way of seeing something he considered important, it wouldn't have mattered that she was only a child. She was standing in the way of him and his money, and so she needed to be removed.

You shoved anything and everything you could into 3 duffel bags. Mostly clothes and essentials along with any cash you had saved up for college tuition. It wasn't like you were going anyways, you'd have never left Will here alone plus you missed the deadline on applications. Now you were just a high school graduate with no prospects.

You threw in a lot of snacks for the drive, it was going to be a long ride back to Hawkins and Vee could get hangry at the best of times.

And Hawkins you had landed. After spending the past three nights in different motels, hood up anytime you saw the hint of a security camera at a gas station, you finally arrived to the one place that had always been like a home away from home, to the one person who you could trust like no other. You felt guilty for knocking at this hour, especially when you remembered that it had been almost 2 years since you last spoke with her.

The porch light turned on, door swinging open with a loud creak as you cradled the sleep-drunk 4 year old on your hip, her drool pooling on your shoulder, not that you cared.

"Hi Aunt Joyce..."

Joyce was your aunt in the every way but legally. She had married your Uncle Lonnie, leaving him when she found out that her husband was a lot like his brother. Thankfully, from what you've heard through the grapevine that is your fathers derogatory comments, her sons seem to have been spared those genes.

"Y/N? Is that.. Is that you?" Her voice was bleary, dull and squinted from tiredness, and once again I felt immense amounts of guilt for waking her up at this hour. It had to be at least 3 in the morning, and here you were, a niece who hadn't contacted her in two years (not that you were allowed to) standing in her doorway, soaked to the skin from the rain.

You remember the last words she said to you, the hurried phone call as she told you Will was home safe, no longer missing. You didn't even care that your father had cut the phone call short, quite literally taking a scissors to the cord, you were that happy to hear your cousin was okay.

"Yeah I'm uh..." You'll be honest, you didn't think this far ahead. You knew where you would be living, you'd called ahead to the trailer park owner from a shady motel and told him you'd pay him a deposit tomorrow. Well, today. But you hadn't planned what you'd say to Joyce, how you'd tell her that you skipped town with your sister in an attempt to save her from the abuse back home. "I'm back home. Just us.."

That was all she needed to hear to usher you inside, her arms wrapping you in the first hug that wasn't your sisters in four years.

Telling everything to Joyce was actually a lot easier than you thought, especially when you didn't have to tell her at all. She took a good look at you and noticed the deep bruise under your eye and the small scar on your chin from where your mom had forgotten her own strength, causing you to hit the kitchen counter. It hadn't been there when you left, so it confirmed what Joyce already knew. You didn't have to utter a word for her to understand.

"I'll be moving into Forest Hills in the morning, I'm only asking for two things, and I'll make it up to you as best I can, I promise." Your eyes were pleading with her, not that they needed to be, Joyce would've done anything to help you. She saw you almost like a daughter, wanting on more than one occasion to sweep you away from them and take care of you. She'd never gotten to meet Willow, but already she was in love with the bouncy brunette curls that fell across her face as she slept in your lap, cuddled up to you on the couch like you were the only person in the world.

"I don't have a lot..." She reached into her purse, bulling out a few crumpled bills, only stopping when you put a hand on her arm and looked at her. Everything favor with your parents had to have been paid back with interest. If you needed a ride to school, you had to fill the car with gas and wash it. If you needed to borrow $5 for lunch, you had to pay back $35, all under the guise of 'this is how it is in the real world, no ones going to love you for free'. And yet here was Joyce, a woman who wasn't even technically related to you, who you hadn't spoken to in years, offering over whatever she had with no strings attached.

"I have the money, thank you though. I just..." You blinked back tears, the overwhelming feeling of gratefulness washing over you like a waterfall. You had never been great at accepting help, no clue why. It's not like you were in a transactional relationship with your parents. You stroked Willow's hair. If it weren't for her you wouldn't even be asking, you'd be determined to do this alone. But you needed stability for her, along with a steady cash income. "I need help with a job."

You saw Joyce's eyes light up, holding your hand that had been on her arm. She smiled at you, a soft gentle smile that made you feel at home again. This house had been your home away from... whatever it was you could call where you lived. You used to play board games with Johnathan at the kitchen counter, or lie on your stomach and draw pictures with Will on the floor. It all smelled the same, a thick mustiness in the air combined with a lemon cleaning product.

You stayed and talked with Joyce for a while, she told you she could secure you an interview at the local music store, and if that failed she joked about having someone on the inside at Melvalds. She hugged you goodbye, kissing the top of your head like she used to when you were a kid, standing in the doorway as you drove off, not closing it until your tail lights were out of sight.

It was early morning when you pulled up to your new home. The owner had given you a discount along with a look of pity. Usually you'd be the first to tell a person off for looking at you like that, but hey, if it got you a discount you weren't going to say no.

You parked up outside and instinctively looked across the dirt road, realizing why it felt like such a familiar drive. Right across from your trailer, where you planned on laying low for a while, was 53 Forest Hills Park.

The Munson Residence.

You swore you saw a curtain move back into place when you took Willow from the car, balancing her on your hip as you held your new key, but maybe you were imagining things, because you stood there for five more minutes to see if the door would open, and all it did was remain shut. For some reason that hurt you more than if he was to actually show his face.

Not that you wanted him to.

You brushed it off, looking down at the key before you pushed it in the lock, a little extra force was needed as it was somehow already rusty, even though he told you it was new. Not that you were going to complain. A home is a home after all. All you needed was somewhere for yourself and Ivy to rest your heads and eat food, everything after that was secondary.

You walked into the bedrooms and saw that the beds already had sheets on them, though they looked... questionable. You didn't want to run the risk of Willow or yourself being bitten by something, so you hastily undressed the beds, flipping both mattresses. It was a temporary solution until you could take them out back and beat them senseless with the sweeping brush to be a bit more certain they weren't infested.

Once again, you weren't complaining, anything was better than a motel bed where the springs threatened to burst through and stab your skin. You were really looking forward to a night where you weren't swaddled in blankets and towels to avoid being impaled.

"Here you go monkey, snug as a bug in a rug." You had put one of your hoodies on Willow, the fabric coming down to her ankles, the sleeves well past her fingertips. It looked ridiculous on her, but you didn't pack sheets because why would you think of that? You walk over to a closet in the hallway and find some relatively clean linen, pulling them out and making the beds. You'd plan a trip to a laundromat soon, you needed to wash your clothes from the journey anyways.

You pulled the blanket up to her chin, kissing between her eyebrows gently. As you went to pull away, you felt a tiny hand grab onto you, or at least attempt to. She was too tired to speak, but you knew what she meant, what she wanted you to do.

Crawling onto the bed beside her, one arm bent up behind her head as you stroked her rosy cheeks, you smiled down at her as you felt your eyes droop, growing more and more tired by the second.

"I'm here petal, I'm not leavin'." You mumbled lightly, sleep overcoming you as you lay beside her.

A few days had passed, and Willow seemed to be settling down to the idea of being here for a while. You'd been keeping an eye on the news, and there were no reports about either of you, so even though you'd been gone just over a week, you're parents hadn't reported you two missing.

You were standing in the kitchenette, having just gotten back from your first shift at the record store, a resounding success if you did say so yourself. Willa sat in the manager's office, you were going to need to find someone to look after her. Joyce had to work too, even though she told you numerous times that she could babysit.

She was sitting watching Looney Toons, giggling at something Bugs Bunny did on the TV. You looked over at her as you flipped pancakes, having only grabbed the bare essentials to make a few meals. Your paycheck was due at the end of the week, and you were planning on going grocery shopping then.

The room felt hot from the sun pouring in, the rays of light accentuating every speck of dust in the room. It filtered through the curtains, the room now a soft glow, the dark brown furnishings looking brighter. You were calm, and relaxed, setting down the plate of pancakes in front of Willow when there came a knock on the door.

Of course you were nervous, why wouldn't you be? just because they hadn't called the cops doesn't mean they hadn't figured it out for themselves. They could be standing outside, waiting to drag you both back to Nevada to be their personal punching bags. Hunching down, you stayed low as you walked, or rather crawled over to the window, peering out.

You saw what looked to be a kind but stern man standing outside holding a tupperware box. He looked vaguely familiar, like he was from a distant memory. Something about him felt safe, or at least safe enough to open the door anyways.

Pulling it open, you looked at him as his eyes widened slightly like he was surprised to see you. You stood there trying to piece where you knew him from when it finally clicked with you who was before you.

"Jesus Christ darlin', thought I was havin' a vision when I saw ya'll pull up just t'other day. Said to myself, surely Y/N Y/L/N isn't back here." Wayne's southern drawl made everything sound pleasant and inviting, and you couldn't help the smile that grew on your face. He looked different than when you last saw him, his hair was thinner and his skin was more aged, but no one would ever be able to forget the energy Wayne Munson radiated.

"Oh my god, Wayne! How are you? Come in!" You stepped back, holding the door open for him to come and sit, suddenly realizing something as your words caught in your throat. There was a chance that Wayne wasn't going to be alone, and that his nephew was going to be joining him very soon. "Is he uh... Is he going to join you?"

There was a reason you knew the drive to the trailer park so well, why you stared at the Munson trailer for a solid five minutes, afraid to blink in case you missed him, why you knew Wayne and he knew you, both acting like old friends. It's because you were. Or at least you had been with his nephew.

Eddie Munson, in all his wickedness and cruelty, had been your best and closest friend in the world. He was the first boy you ever loved, the first boy to break your heart too. No guy you met since then has ever been enough to make you forget about him.

Despite how much you wanted to.

"No no, he..." His words faltered, his eyes cast down at his hands as you placed a cup of coffee in them. The trailer wasn't much but at least it had a kettle. "I don't think he knows you're here. Y/N I really think you two should..." But you cut him off before he could finish.

"I'm sorry Wayne, but after everything he said, everything he promised and and what he did, I can't look at him right now." Mentioning him made your chest ache, and made you want to not hate him. You wondered if he'd grown his hair back, if he'd gotten any better at guitar, if he still had that tattered old copy of Lord of The Rings that you'd gotten him for his 9th birthday with your pocket money that you'd hidden away.

You twisted the ring he gave you on your finger, something you always did when you were nervous. It was a thick silver ring, with a chain pattern around the middle of it. You'll never forget what he said to you when he walked up, holding out the ring on a small chain. You were only slightly older than Willow. It also happened to be the very first thing he said to you.

"Hey! Wanna see what I have?!" He came barrelling over to you, his hand clasped around something tight. You were worried if he was going to show you a bug because surely it would be dead by now. He was a small boy with shaggy dark brown hair to match his eyes. You hadn't seen him in your grade before.

"Um.. sure?" You had been making daisy chains on the grass, taking a short break from the swings. You were gonna go back to them though, you were determined to swing so high you could see your house.

"I think it might be too big for you, but I won this at the arcade." He looked shy, nervous even. He'd been admiring the way your pigtails flowed when you soared high, and he remembered he had the ring in his pocket.

"Thank you!" You were at the age where you didn't question anything, and where someone being friendly was only that, a person being friendly. You took the necklace from him, slipping it around your neck and giggling as it swung side to side. The boy looked a little older, maybe a year? You slipped the ring over your finger, giggling as it slipped back off again, danging from the chain.

"My mom talks about growing into stuff all the time, maybe that's what you can do with that!" He looked so excited, so eager and happy and joyful before sitting down on the ground and plucking a long blade of grass, holding it between his thumbs and trying to make that noise you'd seen people do before. He kept muttering about how he almost had it even though he was nowhere near close.

You sat like that for what felt like hours before a young-looking woman called him over, walking and taking his hand. She looked so much like him, a striking resemblance between them both. He began to walk away, before breaking his grip on his mother's hand to run back and tackle you into a hug.

"I'm Eddie, see you soon!"

You told him your name, and if anyone were ever to ask you when you fell in love with Edward Munson, it would be that moment exactly.

"I understand, just... try to go easy on him okay?" He nodded his head, hands clasped around the mug. You both heard scuffles coming from the side and turned to see the mischievous brunette staring at you from over the sofa, the lower half of her face obscured.

"Where are my manners! Wayne... this is my sister Willow." Walking over, you scooped her up in your arms, her giggles warming your heart and Waynes as you sit down again with her on your knee. That was the thing about Willa, everything about her made people want to smile, and her very presence lit up the room.

"Well hello there little lady, how are you this fine afternoon." He grinned over at her, his gruff exterior giving way to that heartwarming smile you remembered from childhood.

The one thing about Willow, the one thing that you knew for certain, was that she had absolutely no filter whatsoever. She sat there for a second, ignoring Wayne's question before looking down from his receding hairline to his face.

"You have a very shiny head."

She said it with full confidence, no hesitation. You felt your face turn bright red with embarrassment. You were about to scold her, tell her that she couldn't just go around commenting on how people were bald, when you heard a loud bellowing laugh from across the table.

Looking at Wayne, he was clutching his sides as a stray tear rolled down his face. He started wheezing, which caused you to laugh, which caused Willow to laugh. Her laugh was like a lilted giggle, bouncing on your leg and hiding behind her hands as her lopsided pigtails danced around her.

"I suppose you're right, my head is rather shiny.." He chuckled further, finishing up his coffee. You sat there and talked for a few minutes, before Wayne stood up, carrying his mug to the sink, ignoring your protests claiming that you would take care of it yourself.

"I best get going, working night security at the plant, they need me over there at 7 on the dot." He reached over, playfully pretending to steal Willows nose. "Now we have to meet again so I can give this back, okay darlin'?" Willa just nodded her head and giggled, hands flying up to cup her face.

The two of you walked out to the front of the trailer, chatting away again, completely oblivious to the figure watching you from 53 Forest Hills Trailer Park. A figure with a heart that was beating a mile a minute, because there you were, after some long, excruciating years of being without you, and you were talking to his uncle like nothing was wrong.

He was still in his daze when he felt her soft hand on his bicep, pulling his focus away for a second.

"Eds, come back to bed, Wayne's left for the evening, wanna have some fun with you." He used to like the way she said his nickname, the nickname you started for him, but now it felt wrong, weird even, and he wasn't sure why.

"Sure Chris, lead the way..." He followed Chrissy into his bedroom. He knew he should be thinking of her, of his girlfriend, the prom queen and former High School Queen, but his mind still thinking of you, his mind filling with questions, but predominantly one.

"What the hell were you doing back here?"

part two part three

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

[sabraeal]

to all the ghosts still standing in this room, Chapter 5

[Read on AO3]

Written for @meibemeibelline for her birthday; a request that was as surprising as it was welcome after I had to break my plan for chapter 4 in half back in July and had NO idea when I'd get back to Soowon and Lili and their no-good, very bad stint in politics.

A line of palanquin snakes through the city streets; not small sedan chairs but spacious carriages slung over no less than eight shoulders, vibrant reds and verdant greens and searing yellows lacquered over every inch of their ornate carvings. No less than a hundred by Soowon’s admittedly casual count, each one containing a foreign dignitary of his rank— if not his pedigree— or one of their entourage of only slightly less prestige. And all of them wait on the new queen, eager to pay their respects; a procession of Xing’s power and might.

The reality, of course, is far less stunning.

“A kidney stone?” He’s heard of them before, of course; some of the more gouty court officials seemed to come down with them with an alarming regularity. But they were more a source of irritation than anything else; a slight delay on the documents he requested, or an increased amount of carrying-on when he inquired about their health. Not something to ground the inner workings of Kouka to a halt.

“It’s supposed to be quite painful,” Judoh assures him, satisfied that the punishment seems to fit the crime. “The queen sent someone from her court not too long ago to express gratitude for our continued patience—”

“Funny,” he hums, eyes hanging half-mast against the afternoon sun. It’s stronger here than in Kouka, warmer, and trapped in the humid confines of the palanquin, verging on intolerable. “I don’t remember deciding to be patient.”

“—And to beg our forgiveness for the wait,” Judoh continues, as if he hadn’t spoken at all. “Apparently the man’s some important advisor. From the old king’s court, so I hear it. Can’t possibly continue on without him.”

Soowon stifles a sigh. The reliance on its generals had kept Kouka’s council in good health, if not necessarily young, but even still, there is not a single part of him that can imagine Son Mundok holding up a state function to pass water. Knowing his pride, he’d beg Hak to kill him first. And when his beloved grandson refused, the venerable general would no doubt try to take things into his own hands— a real soldier knows to die when his body fails him— and Hak would struggle against him— just go piss already, old man, so the rest of us can get on with our lives—

“Your Highness?” The space between Judoh’s brows furrows, their two ends separated only by a wrinkle of concern, and, ah, he’s let himself wander again. A poor habit for a man who would have been king. Who still might be, if his cousin gets her way.

“Keep me updated.” It’s the request of a man with tied hands, but there’s little else to be done. Soowon may have been a conqueror once, able to move mountains with a wave of his hand, but here the only ones he may push around are made of paper, and only as far as the queen’s feet.

So all he can do is settle back into the palanquin, shuttering the windows until he is only left with shadows and a woman who barely looks like An Lili.

Soowon’s not fool enough to believe Lili never wore cosmetics; all noblewomen did, save for his cousin in her leanest years. The Water General’s late wife may have been rumored to be a one-in-a-generation beauty, the most coveted young lady of Kouka’s court, but even so— the odds that his daughter just so happened to have naturally moon-pale skin, or had been born to a set of perfectly shaped eyes seemed…improbable, to say the least. But when her too-red mouth wraps around an impatient, “So…?”

Well, he knows she's not in the habit of wearing that much. One rub of his thumb and he’d leave a swathe of real skin peeking through that mask.

She shifts, robes rustling like tree leaves as she tries to fold her arms, one sleeve disappearing into the drape of another. “What’s the story?”

“It will be a little while longer.” Chimes tinkle delicately in the air as Soowon turns to smile, and hah, he cannot look much like himself either, dripping ornaments as if he were the empress herself. “There are a great many dignitaries who desire to give the queen their good wishes.”

Lili sighs, poking sulkily at the giant comb thrust through her hair, and, for a single moment, looks like herself. “I guess we’re lucky she came to see us last night. It’s going to take us four hours just to get five words in today.”

“My,” he hums, amused by the attempts to stem the natural current of her hair. He’s never seen it up like this— dammed, really, the more he thinks about it— but by the way she fusses, it’s as successful as sand during the rainy season. “You really think we’ll get a whole five?”

She offers him a look that might kill lesser men. Mice, at least, if any dared to cross her. “It was nice of her to try though. Especially since she’s got all this going on.”

It’s the same sentiment she shared last night as she unrolled her futon next to his, heedless of the way Judoh choked on his own protests. Soowon had plenty of own as she bustled so close to where he was bedded down, clad in only her sleep robe, as if they were only two young girls sharing covers, and not Kouka’s highest ranking noblewoman aside from his cousin and some war criminal.

There were men who begged me for their lives, he nearly reminded her, as if she had not been trapped at the palace with him, little more than a hostage to ensure her father’s continued good behavior. And people who trembled before me.

Xing’s queen had been one of them. Only from rage and frustration, however, spurred by the indignity of being forced to treat with her country’s conqueror and the son of her beloved’s murderer. His own cousin had been another, quivering as he held her beneath his cloak, saving her life even as she reached for his blade. He’ll never forget the way her knuckles shook beneath the weight of his hand, only stilling when he told her, not yet. It’d been a promise, one he meant to keep, but—

“But?”

Soowon blinks, meeting that unerring blue fixed on him, as unceasing as any sea. “Did I say…?”

“No.” By the way she huffs, throwing herself back onto the seat, his silence annoys her more than his speaking. “But I can tell you’ve got something churning around in there.”

Her hand snakes out of her sleeve again, fussing with the comb. Like a loose tooth, probed again and again, as if she might be able to inure herself to the pain if she prodded at it enough, and he—

He reaches out, fingers stopping just shy of where gold makes its first sweep over the curve of her skull. “Allow me.”

Her fingers may still their fussing, but her eyes narrow, suspicious, as if he must have some ulterior motive to put on this display of altruism. Putting on his most angelic— and infuriating— smile, he adds, “If you keep squirming, I think our bearers might drop us where they stand.”

It garners him a roll of her eyes, and oh, he has certainly earned the scowl that graces her mouth, but she at last relents, dropping her own hands to make room for his.

“Well?” she murmurs, bending her head forward. Soowon’s no expert at the application of hair ornaments, but he has a lifetime of experience at making them livable, once placed. “Are you going to say it or not?”

A sigh sloughs out of his nose, ruffling the stray hairs beneath his hands. There’s not many— the comb was applied well, as was the lotion to keep it in place— but just like Lili herself, what little of her can reach will always make its bid for freedom. “I am only concerned that Xing’s queen seems to feel it necessary to meet her allies in secret.”

She takes the implication with all the grace he expects; that is to say: none at all.

“So what are you trying to say?” she pouts, peevish, even as she submits to his subtle fussing. “That you think Kouren had some ulterior motive for visiting us?”

He slips the comb free from the base of her skull, the tines no longer digging into the soft flesh there. Her huff of relief fans over the silk of his robe. “I think that it would be foolish to believe any sovereign would act for a single reason, no matter how rational.”

“She wanted to see us before all this hubbub.” Her glare fixes on him even through her fluttering lashes, cheeks puffed petulantly. “It’d be hard to meet as friends with all these politics in the way. Kouren told us that already.”

“It would have been much easier if we were already in Kyuu’s castle before arranging any clandestine meetings.” It’s an easier argument to make than the other, more obvious one— Xing’s queen does not like him, and is in no rush to greet him as a friend. “There are far more ways for us to meet as allies once we have been officially received as guests of the crown.”

“And she couldn’t just have been excited? We haven’t seen each other in a long time!” It’s the sort of thing an excitable young general’s daughter might do, especially the kind that likes to throw a cloak over her silk dress and call it traveling incognito, but for a queen such as Xing’s— well, it’s almost impressive how easily Lili can conjure the impossible. “You don’t think she just wanted to catch up?”

Soowon may not know much of what goes on inside the mind of the Water Tribe’s most favorite daughter, but he does know this: there is no more fruitless a hill to die on than attempting to explain to An Lili that not everyone feels the same way she does about every person in her acquaintance. Especially when it comes to him; for all that she was trapped with him for months, playing loyal general’s daughter, she easily forgets just how much blood still drips from his hands, never to be forgiven.

“Then why approach us in disguise?” With a wiggle and a twist, he slides the comb along the curve of her scalp; not as tight as it was before, but close enough to hold with comfort. At least, so he hopes; he might have a similar amount of hair, but hers is thicker, more wild, straining against every pin and tine. “Could she not have sent one of her Stars to bring us to her? Why should Xing’s queen choose to risk herself when we may move just as easily?”

Lili may like to play the simple general’s daughter, that even pressed, somehow Joon-Gi’s child cannot do the same political arithmetic he does over breakfast, but—

But he can see the sums adding up behind her eyes as she lifts them, coming to answers she doesn’t quite like. “You think Kouren can’t trust her court.”

“Or at least several someones quite high up in position.” His hands fall to his lap as she sits up, one of her own absently creeping up to check his handiwork. For as much as she complains about him so much as breathing, this apparently passes muster. “Ones who would be privy to whatever private arrangements she makes within the palace grounds.”

His reasoning, however, does not. Lili takes one long, thoughtful pause before she informs him, with appropriate concern, “I think you’re being paranoid.”

Soowon stares. “Paranoid?”

“Yeah, you’re projecting,” she insists, warming to the idea the more unhinged it becomes. “You didn’t trust any of your own council, so now you’re assuming that other people can’t trust theirs.”

His mouth opens, then closes again. It’s a solid line of logic, he has to admit, for all that it is wrong. “If there is nothing wrong with meeting on Kyuu’s grounds, then why would she come all the way out into town just on a rumor?”

Lili scoffs, eyes rolling like waves against a breaker. “Some people just want privacy. I would have thought you, of all people, would get that.”

“She is a queen,” Soowon insists, stymied. “She doesn’t have privacy.”

None more than she can steal, at least. And if her court is loyal, then there’s little need for that.

“All the more reason for her to want it!” Lili shakes her head, as if he is the difficult one, playing particularly dense to agitate her nerves. “Not everything had to be about politics, you know. Sometimes people just want to feel like people. Even queens.”

“That is certainly a”— naive, simple-minded, foolish— “unique take on the situation,” he allows, gracious, as he settles against the seat back. “However, you have failed to take into account the reality  of the queen’s station. She cannot simply just—”

“Yeah? And how many things have I done that a general’s daughter ‘cannot simply just?’” Her head tosses, proud. “Not everyone is as married to playing their role as you are. Some of us like to be ourselves, too.”

“Lili—”

She moves to fold her arms, but the palanquin drops— abrupt at first, before settling into a smooth descent to its pedestal— and they fly out in all directions, grasping for purchase, anything to catch herself—

And settle on his sleeves, already reaching out to steady her. Soowon can’t quite account for why.

“Lili,” he says, impressively even as he skirts the endless depths of her eyes. “It is a mistake to believe anyone could be just like you.”

Her mouth works for a long moment, sinking first into one word before slipping off, again and again until her eyes narrow, and she settles on, “Oh, honestly.”

“Wait—” It’s impressive how expertly she slips from his grasp, her own sleeves too slick under his fingers as she throws herself toward the door. “If you’d wait just a moment—”

Her wrists elude him, the sharp spurs of her elbows keeping him at a distance as she slides along the bench, knees knocking into his with all the delicacy of a bull let to run in a temple. But finally a blind grasp catches her around the arm, holding her in place. “What?”

“I think you have forgotten,” he says through a smile, half breathless and not at all amused. “That I am the one who takes precedence.”

*

Soowon emerges from the palanquin like the sun at dawn, the dangling beads and glittering gold decorations sending sunlight scattering in all directions, a halo of light enveloping him as if he were Hiryuu himself, benevolently mortal once again.

That’s the worst part about him, really— for as annoying as he is, Soowon actually looks like he’s Yona’s cousin. Like he could just descend from the heavens and have at least half the earth and most of the stars revolve around him, no questions asked. Like dragons from Kouka’s four corners might curl up at his feet— if they weren’t already so busy chasing Yona, and weren’t, you know, grown men instead of small scaly cats.

It’s just stupid, is all. Some people could really think that this guy is cut out for all this royalty crap.

Lili doesn’t do so bad herself, she has to say. Oh, it’s no clouds parting and golden rays splitting the heavens or whatever, but she doesn’t trip over herself, robes streaming behind her with the silken grace of a river’s current. She doesn’t so much climb as drift up the stairs, eddying in Soowon’s wake like a leaf on the water. Impresses the heck out of the crowd, too; they’re pressed in around the palanquin, commoners so close she can count the whites of their eyes as they widen, gasping as if she’s just as remarkable as the empress’s cousin; someone important in her own right instead of only in someone’s shadow.

It’d be nice, if only the rest of it wasn’t so overwhelming. Kouren’s up at the top of these hundred stairs, and her people cheer like they know it, like every whoop and holler might bring them one step closer to their queen. Not like Soowon’s coronation— or at least, any of the dozen ceremonies Kyesook had put on after it, desperate to prove the king’s legitimacy in the face of the growing rumors that King Il’s red-haired daughter had survived the palace coup. The common folk had been cordoned off a dozen paces back from the castle stairs, the boundary guarded by no less than two dozen of Judoh’s hand-picked soldiers. There’d been cheers, to be sure, but none of them ever reached the pavilion, drowned out by distance and the weight of Soowon’s dignity.

“Wow,” she hums, elbow bouncing into his side. “You really weren’t popular, huh?”

Soowon slants her an impassive look. “Most of my power always came from Kouka’s generals. Queen Kouren’s comes from the love of her people.”

“Makes sense.” Her hand lifts, fussing with her comb more from habit than complaint. Annoying as he is, he at least knows how to make himself useful. “You are a hard person to love.”

Soowon would never do something so pedestrian as sigh— at least, not with all these common folk and foreign dignitaries to see— but the ghost of it catches in his chest, hitching against the elbow she’s got lodged in his side. “Both things come with their advantages and their drawbacks. One may have a personal preference over another, but they are equal in application.”

“Yeah, you would say that,” she huffs, utterly unconvinced. “But you had five generals, and Kouren”— her arm swings out, encompassing all the cheering masses— “has all this. That’s gotta be hundreds and thousands of people.”

He does that little bob he does, that incline of his head to acknowledge her point right before he eviscerates it. “True enough. But you are forgetting: each of my five generals stands for his tribe. And each of those tribes has their army, trained to support and suppress those hundred thousand people, all on a single word.”

Of one man, he doesn’t say; he doesn’t have to when she’s the daughter of one of them. Her mouth closes with a click. “Oh.”

“It is one thing to worry about torches and pitchforks and rioting outside the castle gates.” There’s a smug sort of slant to his smile, one not aimed at her but elsewhere— and obnoxious nonetheless. “But it’s quite another to walk down the halls of your own palace and wonder which blade is waiting to be put in your back.”

“W-well,” she mutters, fingers numb as she surveys the guardsmen studding the stairway, more decoration than protection. “That’s only if they don’t like her. Which is a pretty big ‘if,’ if you ask me.”

“Really?” A corner of his mouth lifts, and oh, what she would give to be able to reach up and shake that too-knowing look right off him. “I find few men can stomach a competent woman.”

“That’s because most men are useless,” she snaps, barely keeping herself from adding, like you. “They’re threatened by a woman doing their job and making them look bad.”

His hand opens, so gracious, and— god, she’s proven his point for him, the ass. “As you say.”

“What?” she grouses, still annoyed from walking right into his dirty trap. “Are you trying to say you can’t stomach a competent woman doing your job better than you?”

It’s not until she’s said it— until it’s out there, in the air, rampaging like a tiger let loose in a menagerie— that she realizes—

“Oh no,” he says, too soft, too amused. “I don’t have any illusions about my usefulness.”

That stops her in her tracks for a minute, feet stuttering beneath her. She nearly opens her mouth, nearly tells him, that’s not what I meant—

“The queen is just ahead,” an attendant tells them— or rather Soowon, hovering at his elbow and give her only a cursory look. “You will be next to greet her.”

It’s not until he smiles now— his safest, most unassuming one— that Lili realizes it’s the only one that hasn’t met his eyes. “Thank you. It will be our honor.”

[random-fandom-chaos]

Vent

TW: sucidal ideation, Uhh SA (? Does it count if it’s another Minor?) Uhh random shit just be warned, ima gonna get judged so so so so hard.

Most people say that “when you’re a teenager is when you being to mature” NO. I was fucking 4…FOUR and my older cousin (only 9 years older) TRIED TOUCHING ME. LIKE THANK GOD MY MOM WAS THERE AND SHE WENT IN THE ROOM. (He’s nice, he didn’t remember/Forgot about it I think. I’m on good terms with him. I just hate knowing that this was also kept a secret from me because of my mom) AND his younger brother (same age as me) after that when were ages 4-6 he touched me but worse like he called it “playing house”, I didn’t know I didn’t know it was anything bad and I don’t mind, I fucking encouraged it at this point, because I thought I was normal. I WAS FOUR FOR GODS SAKE. And my mom said to forget about it cuz he’s autistic…(I’m also on good terms with him he forgot I think or just doesn't talk about, he’s cool. And I remember his clearly. Because that’s when it was explained that it was wrong.)

BUT GODS SAKE. I KNOW REALIZE HOW DISGUSTING IT IS. I HATE IT I HATE LIFE.

…

what’s life’s meaning? I feel so horrible about myself, disgusted

it’s so fucking hard being the “gifted and perfect” kid. My parents say it’s cause they want me to do good in life, I don’t doubt it. But there’s something else, I feel like they’re using me my brother never got good grades always failed skipped school. And yet I’m “gifted” if they argue with him, I’m always taking my brothers side. Because he doesn’t deserve being treated wrongly, he tries his best.

I don’t want to live.

I feel so fucking selfish just venting.

I always have energy, I could be dancing, hearing my friend talk about their interests. Yet i wand to kill myself. I always do what my body tells me, not what I want to do. I don’t know how to feel really

I lost my first few friends at a new school because of simple misused wording, I needed a break from them, they were leaving me out. I said I didn’t want to be friends— then they ran up the stairs. They hate me. Even if they’re friends with my best friend, I don’t talk to them, they talk behind my back blaming me for this incident…yet…I can’t bring myself to blame them back. They’re wonderful people that deserve things, i opened up to them, because they are so cool. Yet I got betrayed. I don’t mind tho. My best friend could stay friend with them, as long as they still for me too, even that’s a stretch, But who am I to tell them not to be friends for my own selfishness. I’m not that bad of a person. Everyone has their own opinion. Everything alright! (Not it’s not.)

who cares? Who actually cares? So many people say they do. But I feel empty. I feel disconnected. I don’t have energy. But I try.

I don’t want people worrying. Because they have problems already. Why am I being selfish and asking for precious time they could be using just to spew out words? What’s wrong with me?

many people may think I’m Kai right now or something. No I’m fucking Chaos, Heh, all these words are so funny coming from an 11 year old right? so so funny.

and so so useless.

…

I always have energy, and I’m never serious. I hate that. I feel judged for that. But I can’t control it its my damn body! I hate it so much.

I hate life.

(END)

Omg, that felt good also to whoever read all of that thank you I will bombard you with happy things, this is really negative and I’m so sorry, but I had to get this off my chest, I know I’m going to get judged because of the first paragraph. But it’s something that happened to an unknown me, I’m sorry for all the negative I will be posting silly reblogs to take the depressing mood away.

love you all <3333/platonic)

-Chaos

[aduh0308]

hi guys!! figured now that i'm on my libraries wifi i could give you a little bit of better information <3

my house is still currently without water or power, some of our neighbors down the street have power but no one else does (like 4/30 houses). we were able to shower yesterday at my grandparents who've had water this whole time and got power back the night before last (though the water is still on a boil water warning so that might've not been the best idea. if it weren't for the fact that i hadn't showered in 10 days, i wouldn't have). there are now 62 deaths and i've only been able to reach a handful of people with cell towers down. luckily different cell and internet companies have been setting up temporary towers and hotspots (which is what i'm on now).

i drove around a little bit on my own yesterday and guys, it's pretty bad. when you're just in my neighborhood it almost feels like nothing happened-- until you see the lights all off. that's how lucky we were. but i was driving over some communities right by the rivers in our city and it's devastating. i've seen whole houses under water, i've seen houses with their walls ripped away, and i have never felt more grateful in my entire fucking life. the fact that my whole family has been untouched is possibly the luckiest thing to have happened.

one of my neighbors is a UPS driver and drove through a neighborhood city on his route and said we were so lucky, even the parts of our city that got hit the hardest. he said he had to drive under downed trees and power lines the whole drive and said the entirity of his route had no power. so again, i'm feeling so much gratitude right now to whatever power, divine or not, spared the people that i care about most.

our county manager said something a little worrying on the radio yesterday (they've been having briefings twice a day and it feels so dystopian, crowding around my grandpa's old handhold radio to hear) about our water supply, however. the water system itself is practically unheard of-- everything is destroyed. where they keep the water, the distribution centers, the aboveground pipes AND the belowground pips to connect them. so everyone's been stocking up on water. we've been fortunate to have that luxury. the same city my neighbor drove through has no water anywhere, including in stores.

but it seems like that might be us soon 😬 yesterday the county manager said we have enough water resources to last until friday. it's thursday now. my family has enough water for now, my mom's had friends drop by bringing us water, and i'm hoping we'll be able to donate some (in the end, it's up to my parents, and it seems as if they're hitting a wall when it comes to this situation). I've been trying to convince my parents to leave since tuesday with no avail. we have family we could stay with down in florida and i'd much rather take that opportunity and be able to donate the water to people who can't leave. so i'm hoping i'll be able to convince them soon.

as far as writing, now that i have real internet i'll be able to post!! however, i've been running around almost all day everyday since monday, so my nervous system is frazzled and i can barely fathom writing right now, let alone well. for that reason, my kinktober event will probably drag on into november (i have 2.4/7 fics done and the idea of finishing the one i'm working on seems so daunting). unless something seriously changes, i'm with my grandparents and underage kids all day long with no break, and i'm not about to let my 74 year old grandpa see my writing, or my 6 year old cousin. no thank you!

so, here's my paragraphs of update! i'll be here to respond to any dms or anything for hopefuly a few hours before we're going to my cousins. and i forgot to mention, they're trying to leave the country on their trip as this is all happening. selling their house and getting on a plane to leave seems more daunting than ever to them :((

[pizzapizzadickz]

.

[eddies-disability-swag-blog]

So, I have a lot of friends with dissociative disorders, one actually became aware of their (they as in multiples, neither of them uses they/them iirc) DID quite recently.

And like, I’ve been trying to talk about my experiences with dissociation and depersonalization with them, but no one seems to relate to what happened to me and I just feel so alone.

So, if you find any of the following relatable, I’d love to talk about it. I am very scared of it, but I think it would be nice to meet people who have gone through the same.

CW: Mentions of death and descriptions of dissociation

I feel like I have died multiple times. Well, not me, but someone else died and now I’m in their place.

I think this has happened about 3 times, the last time was around 2015.

When “I” died, I just woke up one day, feeling strange and out of place. Nothing usually felt real. My memories felt like they weren’t mine, I had no connection to my names, my family felt like strangers that knew me. I still recognized everything, but after waking up, I was a completely different person. Eventually the odd feelings would disappear and I’d assume my role as the person leading the body, or at least most of the time that happened. It was a very weird experience, like growing up suddenly in one night, feeling completely altered, but still somewhat like me deep inside.

I don’t think I have multiples, or at least not ones that existed simultaneously, if that even makes sense. The different identities just replaced the past ones, one after the other.

The first one was what I assume was a girl. She loved to wear one of my sister’s purple dresses and role play as Minnie Mouse. She was really jealous of the cute little princess costumes my grandma made for my sister and cousins. She must’ve died when I was like 7.

Number 2 was a weird one. They didn’t think of themselves as human, to them they were just in this body temporarily and soon they’d return to their home to their real family. They’d also communicate with their family using methods I will not describe because I don’t really want to talk about them.

This must be the time where the autism dehumanization kicked in or smth.

No idea how long they lasted for really.

Then there was number 3, probably a girl, like a sequel to number 1. She was really not that remarkable. Since the purple dress and my sister’s other clothes were too small for us then, she explored her gender through club penguin and MLP. She wanted to be a club penguin YouTuber and then a MLP YouTuber and then an everything YouTuber. She died around 2015.

There’s a possibility there might be a secret number 4 since I have a lot of missing gaps from 2016, but eh, the others didn’t cause me amnesia, that might be something different.

And then I was born! I’m by far the oldest, at almost 10 years old. Idk what else to say. I’m not a girl. I’m somewhat a guy, so he/they pls, in that order.

I don’t think I have alters. I don’t think I have DID, I don’t have amnesia and stuff and my personality and sense of self is fairly consistent.

There’s been times I’ve allegedly woken up, done stuff, talked to people, promised to do stuff, go back to sleep and then wake up again, remembering nothing. But I think that’s more a sleep disorder, night terror or sleep walking rather than me having a cohabitant that only wakes up to make me look bad and untrustworthy.

Anyways, remember, if you relate to any of this and wanna talk about it, pls DM me.

[lucystark12]

i very very rarely listen to running up that hill but i am right now and it's just like holy shit YOU HAD TO BE THERE (weird reflection post that i just randomly started writing and couldn't stop for some reason about my depression lol that was supposed to be cute and lovey about my love for stranger things but ended up being really somber)

i didn't immediately watch season 4 when it came out on may 27th, because friday may 27th was the day that i came back from a week long class trip to the deep depths of northern washington (hell on earth, no mans land, if you will) and since my parents were out of town for my mom's 50th birthday, i was going straight to my best friend's house to stay over for the weekend. that i did. my best friend everly, whom i was staying with, always falls asleep really early, so at some point in the early hours of may 28th, probably around 1 am, i pulled out my phone and starting watching stranger things. i had spent the entire spring rewatching after all.

i got to where chrissy got possessed and immediately had to turn it off because i was in seventh grade and the bone cracking thing scared me to death (this was before i watched GOT for the first time, my tolerance for gore was not as high as it is now)

such began the first of many times where i'd neglect watching my favorite show for no reason. i did it with house of the dragon season 2 as well. so, a few days later i left everly's house and my grandma came to stay at my house with me while my parents were finishing out the rest of their trip.

at this point, the whole internet was already talking about running up that hill. it was that sunday when i decided i had to watch the show. who the fuck was i kidding? i loved stranger things. problem was, my grandma is and will always be the worst tv hog in the history of the world, so with a shitty disaster movie playing in the background, i put in one airpod and finally started watching stranger things season four.

this was a particularly rainy spring for portland, something that literally scarred me at the time because i was nearing the end of the worst depressive episode of my entire life, and the sun not being able to peek out of the trees like it had in late may last summer and every summer before that was something so insignificant yet something that really was sending me off the edge. i didn't realize how far off the edge i already was at the time. my other best friend had just started taking medication for her depression, which manifested very differently in ways that mine didn't. she was mad. she was resentful. between the few moments that she was the same laughing, loving girl i'd always known, she hated me and our other friends and hated herself more. my cousin likewise had depression so bad he couldn't get out of bed. he hadn't been to school in three months. i wasn't like that. i thought i was happy comparatively. i was diagnosed with OCD the year before and thought that was an explanation. it took getting a new therapist and unpacking my behavior back then to understand what was really happening. i never cried. when i did, it was violent. it came in bursts that lasted all afternoon. i started and i didn't stop until i fell asleep. i threw things, i refused to talk to anybody. i was failing math, which i've never done before. i couldn't understand a thing. i didn't even care to try. i hated myself. the only thing i ate was a bowl of craisins at school every day because i couldn't physically force myself to eat. i thought i was just tired even though i got ten hours of sleep every day. i was always exhausted. my therapist couldn't diagnose me because after years of being taught i had to be perfect, i refused to tell even her that there was something wrong. i thought i was stupid, i thought i was ugly, i thought i was worthless. i thought i was just experiencing what it's like to be twelve years old.

so, another rainy and overly misty sunday afternoon passed me by as i reached the ending of the fourth episode, and finally, the fated song that i'd been hearing all over tiktok and didn't quite understand yet started playing out of max's walkman. i watched the entire scene with my grandma barking questions at me about why i was tearing up.

running up that hill was my most played song of 2022, just ahead of africa by toto.

now i'm not going to say that stranger things brought me out of said depressive episode, because it didn't. the four months ahead of me were four of the hardest of my life still to this day, just as the six before them had already been. but i've grown a lot since then, and two years later when i was in spain alone, sick and crying, experiencing a little week long bout of similar feelings to the ones i felt when i first watched season four, the show weirdly managed to find me again.

the week before i had left to study abroad in spain i had learned that i got a B+ in math instead of an A- in math because my teacher wouldn't round up my 89.9%. it might seem trivial especially because a B+ is incredible process from the algebra i had nearly failed for the second time in the row the year before, but sometimes things like that can be enough to cause somebody to fall back into old habits and feelings. estranged from everybody and everything i'd turned into coping mechanisms for hard times like these when i was literally half the world away, i didn't know what to do. so, when i was in my dorm with food poisoning from a salad i'd eaten the night before, i decided to press on the byler analysis video that had popped up in my youtube feed. such began what i've been calling my "stranger things renaissance"- a second stranger things phase that's been going on since late june.

not to sound overly bylerish, but i've been seeing a lot of parallels between this summer and the summer season four came out. for reasons out of my control, i've been forced to spend a lot of time alone. this summer when i've started feeling lonely, i've taught myself that rather than overthink, to channel it into something else like writing, or doing something that will calm me down. now when i'm home alone and haven't seen a friend in a few days, i'm not sad anymore. i think "well damn" and then i move on with my night. i'm no longer depressed. with the help of my new therapist, i've gotten really close to growing out of my OCD. i no longer have to pray every night. i don't wake up in a cold sweat if i go to bed at 10:31 instead of a "perfect number" like 10:30 or 10:35. i rarely lock my bedroom door anymore. and no, it's not perfect yet. i'm not "cured"- i still have my crying episodes. i still have moments, even though they're few and far between now, where i feel the same way i did back when i was twelve.

but i'm moving on. things have shifted in my life. i've grown up and this show has with me. i started watching it on halloween of 2019 when i was in fifth grade and my friends and i did the "goodbye mike" trend in my basement. i watched the first three episodes that night and finished it for the first time during covid. it was with me through that hard time back in the day, and for some strange (haha) reason, it's with me now, and will probably continue to be with me until the show ends, because like as typically happens when i fall back into obsession with something i liked when i was a little younger, (the mcu, harry potter which remanifested in the marauders) it becomes more than a phase, but a part of me in some weird way.

stranger things may have its flaws and it might not end the way i wanted it to, but for the rest of my life it will be special to me regardless. i'm finally for the first time in my life older than the characters. i was seven when season one came out, eight when season two, ten during season three, 12-13 and season four, and will be 16 in season five.

so thanks, stranger things, for helping me, and thanks even more for showing her that there's nothing wrong with the many different aspects of her that she'd been led to believe were wrong. as corny as it sounds, she couldn't have done it without you 🫶

(say hi to baby lucy, because it's always more fun with pictures, and because depression can happen to anybody no matter what they might look or act like on the surface)

rip 2022 lucy, you would have loved the byler sunset pictures that you somehow would have found a way to relate to reddie and your best friend that you were highkey in love with. you also would have loved mike wheeler if i could explain who he really is to you because said in an EARLY analytical essay that "All I really gained from season four though was that I absolutely hate older Mike and that I wish he would’ve died instead of Max." in the same essay you say you wish you could throw mike of a cliff. oh the irony. (please laugh)

ps: if you ever find yourself feeling anything like what i described in this post, know that it gets better even if it seems like that's what everybody says and it seems like it never will. there were times back then when i didn't even know if i'd make it to the age i am right now, and now i'm at one of the happiest points ive ever been in my life. know that even if we've never talked before, i love you and i believe in you. my blog is always a safe place if anybody out there ever needs anybody to talk to.

[transit-fag]

Chapter 1 of my novel's first draft is hopefully finished, check it out and please give me critique

Today is the Third Sunday of the Month, this means that the city of Saltpeter’s oddities, mistakes, and rarities have come together for Brunch, the national pastime of this peculiar crowd, among them are 2 librarians, a museum curator, a traveling beekeeper, a pen crafter, and about 20 other strange fellows. Take great note on the pair of drab brown haired people sitting at the very back of the train station’s restaurant. These boring sorts go by the names of Danny Jones and Danielle Jones and hold absolutely no relation to each other.

The thing about Danny Jones and Danielle Jones that is so interesting is not the fact that they share a birthday or last names despite being unrelated in any way other than a lesbian aunt 7 generations back, is the fact that these are the 2 most dull and boring individuals you will ever meet. Both have the personality of sliced bread and they aren’t much better in fashion either. There is nothing special about either Jones, they both live completely ordinary lives as shopkeepers on opposite ends of town. The most eventful thing either will do in a month is a Sunday Brunch. And yet both have managed to obtain a loving relationship with incredibly interesting people. And more interesting still is the fact that both are going to wind up dead at the end of the month.

Now to understand why this will happen, you must understand Saltpeter, importantly there are 4 cultural institutions in the city of Saltpeter, Firstly is the Library, it is one of the 3 which is actually known to the people of Saltpeter, and houses exactly 17,943 books and 67 are currently checked out. Next is the Museum of Maria Fernando, a town crazy lady who runs a museum on the way things used to be, this is the institution people like to forget, despite mattering quite a lot to the city, it has received exactly 17 visitors this month and stays afloat via Maria’s wife’s second cousin’s generous yearly donations in exchange for copies of old novels. The 3rd cultural institution is the rail station, it is on the route of the oldest train in the nation, the California Zephyr and is run by perhaps the best chef in the city, Leaf Ann Smith, capable of both killing a man and cooking in Omelette in under 20 minutes. Finally there's the Pen shop, they sell pens, specifically fountain pens, each are hand made by a Saltpeter craftsman, it made the list because we were paid 72 Chicagoan Dollars to add it. If someone wants to stretch the definition of an institution and do a bit more bribery, they could get it up to about 20 institutions and a playhouse worth of cultural amenities, but they would also have to include the brunch of the misfits of Saltpeter, which really shouldn’t be added on principle since it happens in Leaf Ann Smith’s train station anyways.

Now back to the Brunch, something very important is about to happen, There will be a rather large toast to the group. This is on account of it being the 3rd anniversary of the start of the groups monthly meetings. Somehow that is a point of pride among the members due to how it is the longest any Brunch group in Saltpeter has lasted after the Infamous Brunch fights 20 years ago. The Brunch fights were a rather dreary matter for such a pleasant pastime. 27 dead and 63 injured over a week. All because of bad French Toast at an upscale restaurant near downtown Saltpeter. And when I say bad, I mean bad, it was soggy, barely toasted, and didn't have any fruits except the one eating it. It's not even like Saltpeter doesn't have any strawberries, it was built on the largest strawberry farm west of the Mississippi. How do you fuck up French Toast that badly? How? It perplexes the mind.

Oh right, the Toast to the Brunch crew, A tall woman in a Green Dress, a leather Jacket and Golden Hoop earrings stands up, her hair is cut in a pixie cut. She grabs a Mimosa off the table and begins to talk. Hurricane Jane Rivers as they call her is many things, a lesbian, crazy, a storm chaser, dangerous, a purveyor of Pancakes, a painter and an aerial ace, but one thing she is certainly not is concise. It would take 7 paragraphs to summarize her speech to that disparate group of oddities. In short though, she was thanking them for the best 3 years of her life. Little did she know, only half of them would see her next month.

As her glass hits the glass of another member of the Brunch, a clink rings through the air. Followed by a harsh silence.

A tick of a second

Then with a large creaking boom, the train comes to a screeching halt outside the station, passengers get off as Leaf Ann Smith scrambles to hide her current mess of a Diner from the view of the wealthy tourists from down the tracks. The train is early for once. Precisely 17 minutes and 6 seconds early, something that should not have been possible given the fact that the train tracks were under repairs between Omaha and Saltpeter. And the train had a 2 minute delay when it arrived at the last station. This is all irrelevant if not to show how off guard it caught Leaf Ann Smith who usually manages to keep incredibly on top of the schedules of the train so she can run the station and Diner at once. Leaf Ann Smith is a busy Woman between the Diner, the Station and her time moonlighting as the union negotiator for between the carpenters guild and Sylvia Ink the sole crafter of fountain pens in Saltpeter and a person notoriously bad at paying their union dues. Now in a hurry, she rushes to kick out the Brunch party and clean up the messes left behind in her diner today. She had to rush the 20 people out for a rather simple reason. She needs money to run a diner and the train is what brings her the best customers each day. The customers from grand cities like Chicago, Denver and Omaha. As the crowd of weirdos and homosexuals scurries away. One Slyvia Ink bumps right into a Jim Halder. The only man in the city who still knows their face.

Jim Halder is a professor at the University of Saltpeter and has 40 years of Tenure there, starting as a professor at 31, despite being in his 70s, he looks rather young, with a smooth face and deep black hair, this however is a lie. If you look closely at his hair, you’ll notice a long white steak and an indent on his face above his left eye. This is because Jim’s face is not his first, while studying in the mines of Saltpeter, his face was burned off by a explosion, and a new wooden one had to be constructed by Sylvia Ink, one of the only 4 things they ever completed that wasn’t a fountain pen, the other 3 are another less lifelike mask, the hilt of a blade, and pen holder to hold their pens. Jim is a man of learning, giving every book he writes to the library after he publishes it, 14 of the books that are currently checked out were donated by him. If you were to inspect Jim closely you would also find that you could knock him over quite easily with a single punch due to his slim frame. The university that he works at is not considered a cultural institution by even the most generous people in Saltpeter because nothing of interest has been produced in that institution for just over 67 years. Well apart from Sylvia Ink and Jim Halder, and their incredible works of course, the two little wooden people of Saltpeter.

Jim was naturally surprised to see Sylvia at the station, but glad nonetheless to see that young fellow out of the workshop. When they bumped into each other, quite literally, as Sylvia had been too focused on a croissant to notice the man ahead of him. He proposed to the young carpenter that they go over to the old river park for a stroll to discuss the terms for the new project.

Despite being a chilly 50 degrees out, if you were to head across town from the rail station, over to the river. You will find 2 men on the banks of the river. One is sitting in a rather large Sycamore tree, reading a book, when he hears the train rush past. He is wearing a blue sweater and long pants, the other man is dressed quite poorly for the weather, he is wearing nothing but a swimsuit and his golden locks of hair. He stupidly planned on Swimming in the river today. He is 6 feet tall and somehow not freezing. These peculiar fellows meant to be at the brunch but the one in the Sweater, Alex Cela had set his pocket watch 3 hours behind. Even knowing this now, he was still caught off guard by the train crossing over the river since the train had not been early in 3 months. Despite being totally different, one a bit of an idiot and the other a top marks student at the University of Saltpeter, they have been dating for 2 months, and six days if either had remembered to keep track of that. They met at the park, Alex was trying to paint the trains and Damien had been trying to teach a cat how to swim, the pair of them instantly became friends after Alex stopped trying to attack Damien for ruining the painting. And the two started dating a week after they met, when Damien kissed Alex under an Oak tree in the town square. These 2 lovers were not however the only people in the park. There were about 400 people in the park give or take 27 on this chilly morning. But none of them particularly matter, none of them except for Emily Rock.

Emily Rock is a unique woman, it's hard to like her, but easy to understand her. The first 3 words that come to mind about her are angry, pretty, and rude, she is only two of these.The reason many of her peers tend to dislike her is simple, she’s tired, angry, and rather blunt. She’s tired of her classmates at the university, this miserable city, the man on 7th street, and of course she's tired of her father who refuses to give her that damn amulet. What with it being promised to her in the will and everything. Another thing she is tired of is the incredible dullness of the man she works with at the shop, his name is Danny, and she is uncertain if he has a personality. Something she has made clear to him. Now Emily is a pretty woman like they say, she has long blond curls and a tan face, if you care about clothes, she’s wearing a blue skirt and a pink tank top, she’s current reading the morning paper, when an idiot brat of a child steps on her foot running past her bench. Her morning is already ruined, so she decides if nothing else, she should pick a fight, it might cheer her up. What after the argument with her father over the amulet last night, and now that child, she deserves to make someone miserable. As she walks down the river bank she spots him, a man with golden hair and a large frame, the kind of man she thinks would be stupid enough to steal her pet Rabbit “Mr. Flopsy”.

On the other side of the river sit two scientists, a carpenter and a professor, the two wooden men as they call them, one looks young but is old in years, the other’s age is impossible to tell at a glance, they wear a wooden mask and have cyan hair in a low ponytail. The one in the obvious mask is slightly shorter, and is carving a piece of wood with a short knife. The taller one, in a button up vest begins to speak,

“I know that you have a need for something more interesting than this city, Sylvia. I propose that we make a new excursion from this miserable city. I have enough savings for 2 tickets on the train to Chicago.”

The small masked person looks back at Halder, their head tilted as if to ask a simple question, why?

“Why, you ask. I have evidence that the scientists up in Chicago have found a sample of Chestnut, which as we know could be used by the project.

The short one shakes its head to tell Halder their disbelief in that notion.

“You don’t believe me child? Then tell me what the point of that project is. It can’t be built without chestnut wood and we both know it. If you think it's a myth or dead or lost or some other thing, then tell me the truth, why did you build it?”

At this mere suggestion of disbelief, Slyvia stops, throws the pen they have been crafting to the ground and begins to point their whittling knife at the Elderly man. A tear roll out from under the mask.

“Alright, I know that is a touchy subject, here let me pick up the pen, I know why you started it, we both have our white whales of course. I would react similarly if you tried to stop me of course. How about we leave the park, this reminds me of your last day in my class far too much.”

“Besides, we have a train to catch, I forgot to show you this”

Out of his hand slips a photo of the Chicago River, around the ruins lies a single tree, the last pure American Chestnut Tree. At the sight of this Slyvia’s head pops up and begins to run towards the hill. Jim turns around as he sees the younger individual start to run and turns around to chase them.

As they begin to leave the park they hear shouting, coming from across the river, as a woman seems to be trying to pick a fight with the man currently swimming in the river. But they are not about to witness the only fight in the city this morning. In the city center one Maria Fernando is riding the trolley over to the library to do some research when she notices the fellow with the bee hives has been following her, she would have their name but never actually heard it when they started coming to Brunch about a year ago and she would be far too embarrassed to ask now, Maria Fernando is a headstrong and determined woman, but you can never get her to actually admit to not knowing something, she now prides herself on knowing more than anyone in this 3rd rate mining town. She wishes she could see the face of the Beekeeper, then she would know whether she could trust them, that's why she doesn't trust Sylvia Ink, it's that damn mask and the incident in the Saltpeter mines of course, that whole thing is confusing. She can tell, she just knows for a fact that that damn beekeeper is staring at her, and then she spots her destination, the Library square, she quickly jumps off the Trolley and lands on the ground, falling over and tumbling for a good 10 feet with her briefcase in hand. She then briskly gets up and puffs the dust off her red dress. She runs into the Library and without talking to the Libarians for once she runs in the stacks, she looks back and yep, that freakish beekeeper fucking followed her. As she hides, she reaches towards her briefcase to open it when she sees the Beekeeper grab a book off the shelf and start to move away from the shelves. She closes the Briefcase backup and wipes the sweat off her brow, she was so paranoid about the beekeeper and for nothing. But she did have a good reason to be paranoid when entering the library that day because someone was right behind her. And,

POW!!

She is hit on the head with a large book. Now because Maria has already fallen over, so she can’t see this, but another person, the beekeeper and another patron of the Library have also been hit with the book.

As Maria opens her eyes, she finds herself in a dark room, with 5 other people, she is tied up alongside 2 others, one is the Beekeeper, the other is the most boring man she has ever seen, he looks familiar but she doesn't know from where. She could have seen his face a thousand times and not recognized it, because she had. In fact she had seen him earlier that day at Brunch, He is wearing a white tank top and blue jeans, he has medium length brown hair and about no other interesting characteristics, but she wouldn't remember seeing him, he would be one of the 7 people she never would remember, not even after talking too, but this would be the last time she would see him and still forget him. Suddenly a pair of Women enter the light, one being Sunny Rus and the other being Elise Rosa, they are 2 of the 3 librarians at the Saltpeter Library and both are typically good friends of Maria, they were even just at brunch discussing how to acquire several old 23rd century novels for the museum.

Sunny steps forward and bites into an orange, peel and all, it's a strange habit of hers that nobody really understands. She then spits the peel out, hitting Maria in the Face, this part is unfortunately all too common for Maria, dealing with Sunny's surprising lack of manners for such a pleasant looking woman was an annoying commonality. It is impossible to find her outside a sundress even on a chilly day like today. She begins to say something in a commanding tone of voice like a military officer, in fact if you put her in a coat and shaved her hair, she could have passed for one at this moment.

"Look I know none of you would steal our delivery of a particularly difficult to find object from Chicago, but given its value, I think we will all agree this is the only logical course of action,” Sunny says to the group, in an alert tone.

Maria is confused by this given that the only things that were collected by Sunny were books and strangely photographs of a fruit that had been extinct for 300 years. She knew that the fruit pictures were pretty much worthless and most valuable books were held by the elites of Chicago and Denver, the Barons and Lords of what remained, those with wealth that far exceeded what could be found in Saltpeter. Suddenly she realized what Sunny had done as all heads in the room rapidly turned at the sound of a gunshot outside the library. It became clear that Sunny had set her sights on something truly valuable for the Library collection

Macmillan Dev-ill was a strange man, for one he was on call of every last baron, lord, and prince in Chicago on those Bell telephones that had swept across the prairie. It was a result of his rare profession. How does one put the actions of this man delicately, well let's say he dealt with people’s final moments for a hefty price. To put it bluntly, he was a killer. Today he was holed up on the roof of a library in a mediocre forgotten rail town of about 63 thousand people. He was waiting for a small balding man from Omaha to arrive. That man had a copy of the Codex Americana, a fabled book with only 3 remaining copies all of which were handwritten by the 18 monks of Madison; they lived in a monastery that overlooked one of the last great waterways in the continent, they call it the Ohio. The Codex chronicled the history of America from the settlers to the 5 Unions to the empires of Chicago and San Francisco and their falls into dust like all great civilisations before them. He was hired to reacquire the epic so that it couldn’t fall into the hands of those outside Chicago, specifically he was hired by the heir of the Family who commissioned it, the Christopher Fleming of the House Fleming.

After 17 hours he saw 2 things, first a dark haired woman and a beekeeper came running into the Library, making him alert again and then he saw his mark a small oaf, whose name will be forgotten by history. What mattered was what he carried, a box holding a particularly rare book.

He was on the steps when it happened when it went - BANG!!

7 people came running out about a minute later, but it was too late, Dev-ill had already gotten down, grabbed the box and started towards the train station back to Chicago.

It's been 1 hour since Maria saw the blood on the steps of the grand library. It has been 57 minutes since she was told to head to the Train station to try and get the book, whatever book it was back and For the past roughly 3 minutes, Maria Fernando has stood almost still, an incredible rarity, she is waiting outside the train station, ticket in her hand, she is both preparing herself to see the immortal city, the last great city of the American Age, and trying to deal with the death she has seen, not just today but constantly over the past 16 years. As she looks back at the city of Saltpeter for one last glance of her home fill her with hope, the whole city is visible from the rail station on a hill, it was moved up hill and north about a mile about 200 years ago after a devastating flood, but nobody knows that now, history is easily lost in Saltpeter. The libraries know this, but nobody bothers to remember what happened in this city all those years ago. With one last gulp of the air, she lifts up her briefcases and runs to catch up with her companions. If she has to go to Chicago, then at least she is going with people she knows even if it is against her will, and at least if its not people she knows, then at least its people she’s met. And Danny Jones, he is also there.

As she climbs up the stairs to Leaf Ann Smith’s station she can smell the exciting smell of eggs and coal smoke, a mix you can only find at two places, an incredibly rustic bakery and the Saltpeter Train Station. The Coal is there because Leaf Ann Smith is known by certain groups in the city, but thankfully not the California Zephyr Authority of Denver to steal coal for the Diner she runs in the train station on the edge of the city in a large garden. Maria is ready to leave now, she wipes away tears that are beginning to form and begins to shift through her pockets to find the ticket. She produces it and feeds it to the ticket machine, it spits the ticket back out alongside a mix of currencies, the only 2 of interest to her being 6 Saltpeter Tins and 7 Chicagan Dollars, about enough for a Coffee and a biscuit on the train for the second day, she was glad the Machine was still broken like she had heard and would always give change, for the simple reason that she couldn't buy the coffee otherwise. When the gate pops open, she sees that the train is in the station and runs on not looking for her company on that journey. If she had looked she would notice that the Zephyr remarkably managed to hold all but 2 of the members of her Brunch party from Yesterday. The 2 who weren’t on the Train included Hurricane Jane Rivers, who while not on a train is also heading towards Chicago on that night, this is because of the sudden news She had heard at the airfield that afternoon. That day every single individual of any relevance was on their way to the last of the Great American Cities, the city of myths and dreams, the heart and birthplace of empires, Chicago.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

OC Questionnaire

Thanks to @willtheweaver here, @theeccentricraven here, @paeliae-occasionally here, here, and here, @the-golden-comet here and here, and @somethingclevermahogony here!

Hey, this is somehow still not all the tags I have for this game but I'm cutting it off at eight again!

Previous questionnaires:

Round one masterpost

Round two: Tyler, Gwen, Liam, Noelle, Akash, Robbie, Sam, Ewan

Round two: Jazlyn, Carla, Wade, Rose, Maddie, Xitlali, Jedi, Lexi

Keep reading for Ash, Kelsey, Atsila, Teo, Carmen, Issa, Raissa, and Gabriel

#1- Ash

What would it take for you to admit you were wrong?

“That's a bit hard because I really don't like admitting it. It sucks. I hate being wrong about things. [Pause] I guess it has to be pretty bad. I am usually sure I'm right about a lot of things, but this drama happened last year with Shelby, and I did admit to Lexi that I was wrong about her. But that was only after this weird thing happened with her dad. I dunno. It freaked me out.”

Are you forgetful? If so, how do you remind yourself to do things?

“Admittedly a little. But I have Lexi to remind me to do a lot of things.”

Do you consider yourself a neat freak?

“Pfft, no. Hannah is. We share a room, so that sucks to be her.”

More Ash: questionnaire one, two truths and a lie, bingo, bag, origin, OC in three, interview

#2- Kelsey

Have you ever gone against your morals? What got you to or would get you to make that decision?

“Can't think of a lot of things. [Thinks] Well, occasionally I'll have a thought I don't like. Like once, when we first arrived in Alium, I got bored and frustrated, then I realized I was super worried about Maddie and my cousins, and felt bad for being bored. I dunno, actually. I like to stick by my morals. I guess I'd put my morals after my family, but I feel like having a family value is a moral. This is stupid; forget I said anything.”

Did you have any speech disorders as a child?

“I had a bit of a lisp, which definitely didn't make me a bigger target for bullying on top of my ticking. And struggling to read.”

Do you carry the popular opinion or unpopular opinion in your society? Or would you say you are on the fence or in the middle?

“I can't really think of an unpopular opinion. I guess I don't like Cheez-Its.”

Other Kelsey: OC in three, Picrew, bingo, questionnaire one

#3- Atsila

Would you do something illegal if you were getting paid a large sum of money? (You can choose the illegal thing)

“Pfft, yeah, who wouldn't? I can choose the illegal thing? Easy: my good friend Gwandoya is a speedster. He'll help me exceed the speed limit, and then we'll get a fine. And then I get a large sum of money, which makes the fine meaningless.”

What is your favourite non-human creature in the world and why? (Gods count)

“I must say dragons. My beloved Custos is a wonderful companion.”

If you were forced to kill one person you have met, who would it be. (Not yourself)

“Raissa Kamanzi, no doubt. I unfortunately have met her.”

Other Atsila: questionnaire one

#4- Teo

If you had a pet, what animal would it be?

“A dog or a fox, easily. Wade and I want to own foxes one day - they're so adorable!! And, like, K'Ehleyr is the best dog I have, like, ever met.”

How long would you like to live? Why?

“As long as I can! I want to, like, grow old together with Wade, and of course Parker. If we can all, like, die of old age, at, like, the same time, that would be just lovely. Sound minds at, like, 99. That sounds amazing.”

When will you be done?

“... Wait, that's, like, the whole question? Done with what? Life goals?? Let's go with that. I want to live a fulfilling life. Make, like, an impact on the world. Start a family. I think becoming, like, a YouTuber would be, like, awesome. And when I'm, like, done with making content, I'll be done. I guess. I hope I understood this question.”

Other Teo: questionnaire one, kiss picrew

#5- Carmen

Why did you leave home?

“Why did I agree to this interview? Ugh, I was a young adult, let's move on.”

What is your ideal job?

“I am perfectly happy where I am. [Pause. Pause. Pause.] Though I'll admit that I have wished I were apart of the Alii Power Database Council. I have a few words about organizing the subpowers alphabetically rather than rarity - since it makes it impossible to find anything unless you have the rarity memorized - but I suppose it is consistent. Working directly with the database council would allow me to gain greater funding to research the powers and certain potential subpowers.”

What will life look like when you complete your main goal?

“Wasn't this question asked to Mr. Attwood's Ceter boyfriend? Whatever, I just wish I was asked more unique questions. I hope to fulfill Atsila's wishes by completing her study on Alii from Ceteri and stopping the Refugae.”

Other Carmen: OC in three, OC in fifteen, Picrew, smash or pass, art, interview, questionnaire one

#6- Issa

Would you sacrifice yourself for another?

“Uh, yeah, duh. What kinda silly question is that? It would be wrong not to.”

How often do you daydream?

“Uh, quite often, actually. I find it so easy to be distracted.... Oops, sorry I fazed out for a second; thought of something CJ said earlier. Anyway, uh, my mind is a theater; constantly stuff is just happening up here.”

What is your favorite activity?

“Oh, I'm in musical theater! I love theater! I'm a champion at improv nights. I've also performed comedy skits there. I'm also in the art club and the debate club, and I'll attend book clubs! I also like baseball a bit, though I prefer to watch with CJ and Alex and Wendy. I'm not on a team, but maybe someday! Oh, yeah! Hanging out with my friends!”

Other Issa: questionnaire one

#7- Raissa

How many people have you killed?

“Ha-ha! I'm sorry, I had to laugh - what are you talking about? That's the dumbest way I've ever heard an interview start! How is that the first thing on your mind when you're sitting down with me? [Face hardens] Regardless, the answer to your question is irrelevant, and I find it incredibly offensive.”

Favorite type of drink?

“I am quite fond of green wine. Why do I have to answer such trivial questions?”

Do you smoke?

“... Occasionally.... This was a waste of time; I must get back to work.”

Other Raissa: questionnaire one

#8- Gabriel

What would you say is your greatest weakness?

“Tsk. I don't like to think of myself as a person with weaknesses. Cassidy says I'm too uptight. He's wrong, of course. Jaz sometimes says I'm stubborn. I think Traeger called me rude once. I suppose it is frustrating that I can't adapt to unfamiliar situations as much as I'd like.”

Who is someone in your life that you like but that you don't trust?

“Bold of you to assume I trust anyone.”

If you could magically learn any mundane skill right now (cooking, a particular dance, a language, singing, sewing, etc.), what would it be?

“Part of learning the skill is the learning itself. The process. I would rather not instantly learn a skill. However, if I must answer this question...I suppose it would be nice to just learn how to drive. I find it admittedly frustrating that knowing exactly how cars work and what to do to drive them is not appearing to help me.”

Other Gabriel: questionnaire one

Tagging @sleepywriter00 @finickyfelix @rehnwriter @dyrewrites @talesofsorrowandofruin

+ ANYONE ELSE

Your questions:

1) What is something you spend a lot of time worrying about? 2) Would you prefer to leave where your hometown and never come back or stay in your hometown and never be able to leave? 3) Do you own something to rarely/never use?

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

[housewarningparty]

.

My best friend's grandma died unexpectedly last night and he called me today to tell me about it. I went over after work and brought some pizzas and hung out for like six hours, just chatting with him and his family. One of our old high school friends also showed up. It's all terribly sad, they're clearly feeling a particular brand of fresh and horrible grief, but despite all that it felt really good to just all be in a room together telling stories and just being in each other's company.

It's hard sometimes - I'm bad at making time for them, or at least not as good as I wish I was. The last time I saw his grandmother was over a month ago- I brought her a pie and she called down her thanks to me from the second storey and I wished her a happy mother's day. It was nice. I hope she enjoyed the pie. But I can't help but wish I had been able to spend more time with her, or see her again before this happened. I knew her for half of my life.

It's bizarre and sad seeing my close friends in a situation almost identical to where I was 4 years ago - the pain and uncertainty of it, because with this woman's death they'll also be losing their housing within a year. I wish I was in a place in my life where I could better take care of the people I love. I wish the world was kinder.

But I brought them some pizza when they hadn't eaten all day and I sat at the kitchen table with them while they poured out their grief and I listened to them talk shit about which cousins were assholes and I laughed with them and hugged them until they were ready to let me go. It doesn't feel like enough right now, but I know it meant something to them. I'm glad for that

[araminthe]

Tuesday, 6th of August / Mardi 6 août 2024

Yesterday, I forgot to write about my day so I'm doing it now.

So, since I was working until late, (because I'm always more focused at night), I slept late, so I woke up at 11 something and was still so damn tired.

That day, I was supposed to go karting because I had 12 tickets from a year ago that were expired very soon (it would have been more than a 100€ wasted)

So I had to vacuum the house before going out, it made me sweat like crazy and I ran out of deodorant and I don't even have time for a quick shower before going out, so I'm scared of smelling very bad, plus I'm tired so it very much makes me angry (but I think it was more stress than something else, since I was supposed to also organise it so I go with my cousins, but social pressure makes me ughhhhh)

Anyway, my cousins in the end were busy so they were not coming, at least I have this pressure off my shoulders. I dont know why but having to organise something with so many people put so much pressure on me.

So it was just me and my 4 sibling (yes you heard that right, and yes I am actually the oldest sibling, help). And my mother.

Glad she also came, I could not for the life of me keep all those dangerous sibling under control without going crazy.

At least, I have a brother my age, but the 3 left are young children.

So anyway, we go and have to walk a lot because for an unknown reason the bus doesnt go until the karting place.

We arrive, we share the tickets, there are 6 tickets for children so they take 2 each.

And 6 for adults so we take 3 each me and my bro.

It was fun. I rode the kart like crazy, it was on concrete, outside, so it equals mode adrenaline. There were lots of turns/curves and the goal was to do a lap as quickly as possible.

Each time I rode, I was getting used to the kart so I was going faster. I once tried to see how fast I could go during a turn but I messed up and when I was turning, I got straight into the foam barriers at my right. The hit was so powerful I moved the barriers, I hoped no one payed attention because I felt like a guilty bisch.(You know this feeling when you're a child and you feel like you're going to get grounded bcs you messed up and you feel very guilty? It's a feeling that stayed, I'm scared of autority, or people coming and telling me I did bad ಥ_ಥ )

Anyway, I made sure to quickly move on and not overthink. Another time, it was at the start of the 2nd race, I did not expect the kart to turn this easily, so by turning right I did a 180° turn, I was turned on the opposite direction of the race, so I quickly turned, got back on track and carried on.

Then, during the 3rd race, I made my worst mistake. So a bit of context; There was a girl (prob around 20y old) during the race she was going very slowly meanwhile everyone else was fast, it's not a problem, maybe she's scared or it's her first time, it happens, she has her reasons.

But, I once happened to be riding near my brother, so I started I to race him to go past him and win, but it was right when we were approaching to where the girl was. Just so you know, the road is broad enough for 2 karts to pass, not 3, and even for two you have to be careful. So my brother sees her in front and starts to slow, but I don't, I'm behind my brother, their cars are next to one another, I don't have enough time to slow down so I just completely ran into them.

I so powerfully hit my brother who in turn hit the girl. I swear I'm sorry and did not do that in purpose. My kart kept going but it made my brother's kart do a 180° turn, same for the girl.

So I slow down again, look behind, their cars are turned the wrong direction, I thought for a second I saw smoke for my bro's kart, (fortunately it was gravel that had been kicked up by the wheels). So they just go back on track and I hope the girl's not traumatized by the impact or the hit. I would have apoligized, but the thing is, when you're riding you can't talk or be heard because you're wearing a hood, and on top of that a thick helmet.

So I just resumed my ride, and at the end of it, as soon as my brother and I get out of the cart we have to go home, (my dad had to take my bro to an appointment, so my dad told us to come quickly and drove us away).

I'm sorry for the girl, my brother said, since he was right next to the girl, he for a sec thought I had broke her neck or something 💀💀.

He's probably exagerating to mess with me, but nah I feel sorry. My bad.

If girl you ever happen to have gone karting Tuesday 6, and ever happen to read that, know that I'm sorry. I hope you're alright.

So after that, I go home at 7pm

Had to do a few things (again...please let me rest). I was sooo tired, the whole day I didn't even have the energy to talk or be excited for the karting, yeah it was fun, but only in my head because I was physically exhausted, I had also eaten only a little so imagine my exhaustion.

WHEN I FINALLY GOT TO RETIRE FROM MY FAMILY, it was 10.30pm, and didn't even make my bed or put on pj's, I just took my pillow and blanket and slept on top of all the things on my bed.

At night, I woke up at 1am and had a hard time going back to sleep. Y'know what's strange? Usually, I am a big sleeper, I always fall asleep super fast and I don't wake up at all at night, but lately I have been having a hard time with waking up at night and not being able to go back to sleep. Why could that be? Am I becoming kinda insomniac, or is my sleep schedule just really messed up?

Well, in conclusion I had a really fun day, 2nd time of my life I go karting, but the only downside was my anxiousness and tiredness. My lil'siblings also rode with children like themselves, (for children they have slower karts), it was the first time for the youngest, so they were all happy and ultra hyped up. (That's a W for oldest daughter, I'm glad I could make them happy).

Another funny thing, during the ride, to go and come back from the karting, I was revising the "code de la route", in english I think it's the highway code or smthg like that. Before learning to ride, you first have to pass this exam. And here I am, causing accident on the road (at least it was with a kart and not a car, obviously I will not ride like that with a car, I don't have homicide on my mind).

So welp, at least I'm not scared of going fast (not sure if this experience is relevant for riding a true car, but it's better than nothing? )

╮(￣ω￣;)╭

(I know no one reads what I write and that no one will read all that, but personally I love listening to others life and experiences, so maybe if I keep doing that I will find people like me, and also, I just need someone to tell about my life without feeling like I'm throwing all my life on them.)

Bye, à plus amis invisibles.