#the amount of people who just didn’t vote or voted for those who weren’t gonna win have only themselves to blame

[iwatcheditbegin]

I’m sorry but these massive marches in protest to trump are pissing me off. If you’re so against this admin why tf did y’all sit this election out

[lilysdaydreams]

For Them

→ Pairing : Corpse Husband X Fem!Reader

→ Genre : fluff.

→ Warnings : Swearing, Reader panicking a bit.

→ Request : Heya! I was thinking maybe a corpse x reader where the reader is playing among us with him and the gang and they use the proximity mic and he walks past her to hear her singing and she’s kept her singing like a MAJOR secret because she’s shy about it- idk you don’t have to do it if ya don’t feel like it it’s just an idea 💛

→ A/N : Oh my god, did Lily finally finish writing something??? YES SHE DID. Pretty happy with this, so I hope you guys enjoy as well! Sorry for any spelling mistakes :) Requests are open!

~~~

You grabbed the water on the table, moving to the side and out of the camera to quickly take a few sips. You could hear the rest of the group still yelling about the previous game. You laughed quietly hearing Peter and Rae yell at each other.

Looking over at chat you hummed as you took  in the questions.

"How much longer am I streaming?" you read out the question.

"Probably a few more games. Maybe like 30 more minutes. I wanna go get dinner soon." you mumbled as you kept on scanning the chat.

A random question caught your eye.

"Do I sing?" you read out with a laugh.

"Wow, that's such a random question oh my god. Um, I used to want to be a singer when I was a kid," you started leaning back in your chair. You looked at the ceiling reminiscing and chuckled when you remembered the concerts you used to throw for your parents.

"I used to get my parents to be the audience and I would sing all my different songs for them. When they weren't free, I would do it for all of my plushies on my bed. Oh my god, I probably have old videos in the basement or something."

You smiled wistfully, looking back onto the screen.

"Those were good times," you muttered.

Looking back onto chat, your eyes widened at the amount of  "SING FOR US" messages.

"Woah guys, calm down, that was when I was a kid. I don't sing seriously you know that right?" you questioned, laughing at how fast the chat was going.

"Okay okay," you said smiling when they didn't stop. "Lemme ju- Oh wait" you cut yourself off seeing the words "IMPOSTER" light up your screen.

"LETS GOOOOO" you yelled, turning your mic on again for the game. Everyone's voice slowly faded as people went different ways. You  stuck with Lily, both of you going straight to medbay.

"Lilyyyyy" you said dragging her name out.

"Y/N" she said doing the same to you.

You giggled, and asked her if she had med scan.

"Nope, I have the inspecting the sample one."

"Ohh okay," you said getting on the med scan and pretending to scan. You watched as Lily finished her task, saying a quiet "bye" and rushing off to the next task.

You sighed, moving off the scan and starting to walk towards weapons. "Lily's so nice, I'm so glad I got to meet her through this. Like, she's the absolute sweetest I swear, I'm hoping that I get to m-" you got cut off by a body being reported.

"Already?" you asked, others echoing. You gasped when you saw who was killed, immediately whining about how someone could kill Sykunno, while playfully glaring at Sean's name, who was the other imposter.

"Okay, so the body was at reactor," revealed Rae.

"I was in the cafeteria, going towards weapons. Me and Lily were in Medbay before but she left before me," you said leaning back.

Lily confirmed this, also stating that she was in weapons now.

Sean, Corpse and Felix all said they were in Electrical, and Poki said she'd been in storage.

You looked at the chat again, not saying anything while the rest said where they were.

The chat was still spamming "Sing please!" and you looked back to the game without giving an answer. If you were being honest, then what you had said before was a lie. You still sang. Hell, it had been your dream to release your songs ever since you started writing at 15. You had started singing by singing for your parents. Ever since their car crash though, you couldn't even think about  performing for anyone else. If you couldn't even  perform for them, then what was the point? For some reason, whenever you thought of  singing in front of someone, you couldn't even get the words out.

You sighed and skipped voting as the timer ticked down. No one was ejected and you started humming slightly as you moved away from everyone.

"Hmm should I sing you a song everyone?" you asked your voice very low. You breathed deeply reminding yourself that technically no one was in the room with you, and it was only your fans watching, a small community of people who were the sweetest you had ever seen.

Going into reactor and moving down to the very end so that no one could see you, you breathed in deeply and started singing lightly, noticing that the lights were off, the blinking arrow in the corner of your screen.

"I think we could do it if we tried

If only to say you're mine

Sofia, know that you and I

Shouldn't feel like a crime

You know I'll do anything you ask me to

But oh my God, I think I'm in love with you

Standin' here alone now, think that we -"

"Y/N what the fuck your voice is -"

You screamed before the person could even finish what they were saying, hitting the "kill" button without even realising, and letting out a gasp when you saw the black body flop over.

"Oh god, oh my god, what did I do?" you whispered staring at Corpses body, half of your brain freaking out over the fact that he had heard you and the other freaking out what to do. You quickly vented, coming out in electrical and pretending to do the download.

"Oh my god, guys!" you whispered furiously, playfully glaring at the camera. "This is all your fault, do you see what I did, I killed someone with my singing... I just got so scared because he came out of absolutely NOWHERE, oh my god guys." Leaving electrical, you heard someone yelling and headed closer to them laughing nervously when you found Toast and Sean yelling at each other.

"Hey guys," you said voice being unnoticed because of all the yelling and you moved into comms pretending to do a task there.

Just as you did that, Pokis body was found, and you gasped as you realised that Sean had killed three people so now there were 5 left. Toast was dead, which means that he just died, which left Sean, you, Rae, Lily and Leslie.

There was a stunned silence for a second as everyone took in the 4 kills and then Rae immediately  attacked.

"Ahh, the body was in cafeteria. Like bottom cafeteria."

"Um, So I just wanna add something, I was coming from the electrical right, and I was walking to comms, and Toast just passed in the middle of storage. I came into comms and Sean is here as well.

"Yup, shes right, toast just left and she came in." confirmed Sean.

"Well, I saw Leslie at the start of the round, we stuck together and then I was with Poki for a bit."

"Yeah okay, but where were you?"

"Well, I went to weapons then I went down into comms and storage and then I went electrical when lights were called and everyone was ther-" she said cutting herself off and gasping.  “Guess who WASNT there? Y/N wasn’t there!”

“Well yeah, I just thought someone else would do it” you replied. “I was all the way in upper engine and I couldn’t be bothered. You all did lights and I was doing my tasks in reactor and then I went to electrical and then I was waking to comms, and then I saw toast and then I got into comma and saw Sean. Even if I was the imposter and killed Toast, I definitely couldn’t have been able to kill Poki.”

“Yeah no, I still think it’s you,” said Rae after a pause, Leslie and Lily both giggling at her.

Lily chimed in then as well, “Yeah I haven’t seen y/n this whole round at ALLLLL, so I think its her as well."

Ignoring your protests, they all voted you out, and you shrugged at the camera as your character was thrown off the  ship.

"I think I'm okay with that guys, I was way too nervous to still play," you muttered, now looking at the chat.

"Guys," you whined suddenly remembering. "I was only meant to sing for you, I didn't want anyone else to hear it, Corpse literally came out of nowhere. I hope he wasn't deafened by my screeching," you grimaced.

The word "Victory" came onto your screen and you huffed out  a laugh as the lobby exploded with noise.

"Lily! I told you it was Sean!" exclaimed Rae.

"Sean was on a killing spree," you added in, sipping your water. "I only killed like two people cuz I was distracted, I swear he literally carried the whole game.”

“He backstabbed me!” said Sykkuno and you could hear the smile in his voice. “I was doing upload while he was right next to me and we were talking about how great this group was and he just killed me right there!”

Suddenly all the attention was on Sykkuno as everyone started cooing.

“Awww, Sykkuno, did you just compliment us?” Rae yelled, lots of other chiming in to tease Sykunno and him ending up stuttering because he got flustered.

“Alright guys,” you said when everyone quieted down. "I think I'm gonna go now."

"NOOOOO" yelled Rae, everyone else echoing her.

You smiled and quickly said your goodbyes, logging off the game and quickly saying bye to the viewers and ending that as well.

Slumping into your chair, your breath quickened. "Oh my god," you whispered, the realization creeping up on you that you had just sung in front of nearly ten thousand people and that Corpse had heard you sing. You and Corpse had met through Among Us with Toast inviting you to the lobby. You had fun playing with him and you'd both followed each other, but most of your interaction was in games. Like sure you'd messaged each other a few times but those were only brief conversations! and sure, maybe you had a small tiny crush on the guy but like WHO WOULDNT? He was sweet, nice and you related to him a lot. The point was, you were absolutely not ready to sing in front of him. You stood up from the chair and went to the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water to calm down.

Your phone rang and you grabbed it from the counter, choking on the water as you saw that it was from Corpse.

He had never called you before. Like you said you simply weren't that close.

Coughing out a "What the fuck?" you answered the call, grabbing onto the counter for support.

"Hey," you said, confused when there was no sound.

"Uh yeah, Hi Y/N. Its Corpse."

"Ah yeah, I see." You facepalmed yourself, rubbing your forehead. What the fucks was wrong with you.

"Um yeah, so uh I just- You know in the game? Um I kind of - well - I kind of heard you singing, um um, that song."

You stilled, not a breath coming out of you.

"Your voice, its -" he paused, letting out a huge breath. "It's absolutely beautiful."

You opened your mouth not even sure what you were gonna say but he continued talking.

"I just, I cant get it out of my mind. Have you heard some of my music?"

"Um yeah, I-I listened to it when I first heard about you. Your songs are so good!" you exclaimed, finally being able to move your mouth

"Do you think maybe we could do a song together sometime? Your voice would be absolutely amazing on one of the tracks I'm currently working on, its a chill one that I have, kind of like Agoraphobic," he asked, rambling through the sentence.

"Um, Oh my god," you muttered, still confused on if this was actually happening. "Yeah, Yeah definitely that would be so cool."

"Oh. Oh that's great, I-I didn't think you'd agree, that's great, I can send you a sample and the lyrics but -"

"Um," you started cutting him off. "If I'm being honest," you muttered, shoulders coming up to your ears. "I'm actually really conscious about my singing. Like this was the absolute first time I ever even sang on stream, so like sorry- I'm ruining it, but this is just a bit overwhelming for me. It's a great opportunity, and if you want I can definitely try but please don't have big expectations of me okay?" you asked biting your lip slightly. "I'm not that great."

There was a second of silence and then he whispered lightly, "Even if you don't believe it, just from those 30 seconds, I could already tell how amazing your voice was."

Your breath caught but a second later he had already moved on.

"If you want to, we could do a few singing sessions together? Just mess around have some fun? That way you can get a bit more comfortable and have some fun," he suggested, voice changing to a shy one that you hadn't ever heard from him.

~~~

"Yeah sure," you agreed, smiling. "Lets try that."

3 months later, you guys finally released your song. Titled "For Them", you sang about your parents who you had loved dearly, and he sang about his parents and their distant relationship. It showed two different perspectives, two different stories, two different lives, and you both loved it so much.

The song was a success, with fans pouring into your channel and small community and well, your life. Most importantly though, along with all of it, came a mask-wearing man, who held you on the days that it was hard for you, and who you held on the nights that were hard for him.

fin.

[imaginationmess]

TAKE MY HAND (ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE) [BAKUGOU KATSUKI X READER]; TWO

Bakugou Katsuki X Reader

AGED UP AU!

Summary: When you take on the burden to keep the ones living safe, which causes you to become a traitor, but you had to pick a decision, and it cost their trust in you. You reverted to your old violent self. Months later, you find yourself face to face with your old friends. They want you to help them because they know you can handle yourself in this current state of the world. They are still ignorant of the state the world is. They have no idea how more dangerous it has become.

“We are still fucking fighting and won’t stop fighting. If you fucking give up, we lose!”

BEFORE READING! PLEASE READ DISCLAIMER!

Previously Chapter ONE; Masterlist

Chapter TWO

Word Count: 1,600+

Spoiler Alert for Anime watchers: There will be mention of Midoirya’s new quirks that haven’t been introduced in the anime.

Once the four of them have taken a shower and had time to discuss with each other weighing the pros and cons of trusting you. You did have a good record of keeping up with your promises before the incident where you betrayed all of their trust. It’s a tie between trusting you or not trusting you over a deal.

They are gonna reconsider the vote about it, later at night. They are all curious how you became a Mafia boss from just an original teenager who wanted to become a hero. To only become a cold killer and making a name for yourself years later.

They only have heard stories and rumors of the alias you go by.

Glitch.

A masked individual who is widely known for their cold,calculated mind and a heartless killer who didn’t care who gets caught in the crossfire. A leader who rapidly climbing up the ladder in the mafia world during the time of the apocalypse. A leader who became to hold more territory and killing off of other leaders to take their territory and expand their army.

A name alone made your enemies tremble in their boots.

They are hoping to get better judgment, seeing how things are run here.

The young boy that goes by the alias Speedy gave them a quick tour, but didn’t show the whole building due to being confidential from outsiders. He is just following orders. He was taking them to the cafeteria to grab something to eat to only notice where the children were eating all together were pointing at them. Most of them have eyes of admiration and pure awe looking at them.

“They are fans of you guys. They have seen the old video recording of previous sports festivals. We had to keep them somewhat entertained. Glitch got her hands on those old videos.” Speedy explains to continue to eat his soup.

The boys nod, understanding why the kids are so excited to see them in the flesh. It was weird, but somewhat comforting that the younger generation isn’t taught to hate heroes.

“I would keep those degrading comments of Miss Glitch to yourselves because the people who live here aren’t fans of heroes, much less of outsides. I heard you guys arguing earlier outside the room. You weren’t very quiet.” He looks at Bakugou in a way saying you are the loud one, before adding, “Everyone here would not agree on whatever image you decide to picture her.”

“Why wouldn’t they agree? Isn’t she a killer though?” Todoroki is just addressing the tension in the air. Midoriya and Kirishima choked on their food before coughing. They forgot Todoroki still struggles to read the social situations.

“Yes, she has killed many, but it is done to keep everyone safe. At the state of the world, it isn’t run by heroes who never got their hands dirty. It is run by killers because prison doesn’t exist. Who is gonna be the one to put those low lives underneath the ground? You guys never faced the true danger of the current state of the world. You are always protected just because you attend a prestigious school before the apocalypse hit.” Speedy spits out before taking a deep breath and just continues eating his food. His left hand was

“I apologized for his comment. We just have a history of them. It didn’t end on a good note. I know yo-.”

Speedy interrupts Midoriya by slams his spoon on the table before taking a deep breath to recollect himself.

“You don’t know any of our experiences. It was hell before Miss Glitch came to save us and took us in with no judgment. She taught us how to freaking survive by teaching us numerous tools such as self-defense and weapon handling. She never expected anything in return, unlike other mafia groups.”

The sound of a clap pauses the tension being created by five of them. The ex heroes in training look up to see meet the emotionless man covered with tattoos and scars. The same man who was within the room left to the minor from earlier. He placed a hand on top of Speedy head to ruffle his hair.

“Go ahead, eat with your sibling. Take a breather. I will take over making sure these little shits behave.” He removes his hand from his head before taking a seat beside the teenager.

“But-” Speedy was hesitant on leaving his position.

“It’s an order. Spend time with your sibling. Enjoy the night off.” The older man takes out a red apple from his pocket. Speedy stares at the four outside and gives a quick nod before taking his leave.

Bakugou Katsuki was staring at the man with suspicion as if he saw him before this mission. He wasn’t the only one who was thought so. Midoriya recalls those same tattoos, but it must have been a long time ago. He couldn’t easily recall. They were eating quietly until they finished.

“Let’s start ny introducing myself. I am Daichi. I am usually the one who runs this base when Miss Glitch isn’t present. It must have been your lucky day because you would have been tortured to death for trespassing.” The hairs behind their neck rise and getting goosebumps.

They sense malicious by the way he is sounding. Midoriya’s danger senses were activating and going crazy causing him to want to step away from him. It takes him back to when All For One and Stain’s presence.

Daichi’s yellow eyes stare at every one of them as he takes out a pocket knife directs it at Midoriya who was sitting in front of him. “The only reason you four are alive and even getting treated with special treatment is because of Miss Glitch. Step out of line, I wouldn’t hesitate to beat the shit of you wannabe heroes. That’s the only thing. I am allowed to do.” He swiftly put his pocket knife after cutting his apple into six pieces which fall on the napkin. He claps his hands together cutting through the tension for him to drop the act to replace it with a fake smile.

“Anyways comes to my question. What did you talk about with the young boy making them lose their composure?”

He was oblivious enjoying tormenting these wannabe heroes.

_______________________________________

Meanwhile, inside the hero’s refuge base where there is a tall metal barrier that runs underneath 20 feet underground.

There was a young man with black hair with his signature scarf, looking at a map looking where to travel to get more food and other resources. They are running out of places to investigate. The last 2 locations were a complete bust. It has been cleaned out completely. He is one of the leaders of the camp where they have stayed safe since the beginning of the apocalypse.

There was a knock on the wall, before someone coming in through the curtains. They pull a chair across from him, before taking a seat. They are twirling it around for them to rest their arms on the top of the chair.

“Aizawa, I can’t believe you took my suggestion seriously.” The young male with the purple bed hair as if he just rolled out of bed, comments. He has a small scar above his eyebrow. He has a few scars on his arms that have grown muscular.

“It was insane, but not outside of the possibilities.” Aizawa laid back in his chair and stares at his former student who is now somewhat a version copy of himself when it comes to fighting styles.

“Do you tell the trio? Whom they are gonna be meeting?” The purple-haired questions, not seeing they would be willing to see a former classmate that so-called became a traitor in their eyes.

“No. They wouldn’t be willing to do it despite us being a tight spot right now when it comes to resources.” Aizawa answers, before ruffling his hair and keeping his eyes closed. He is stressed out and not having a lot of options. They are running low on adults that were pro heroes. They have lost many throughout the apocalypse. Many of them abandon their original mission to save themselves.

The apocalypse revealed the true heroes who aren’t for the money. They are a good amount of pro heroes who got captured by mafia groups to have power. Some of them show over time randomly at their doorstep after being spared by the mask individual Glitch. That’s the only information they are allowed to share about their interaction with Glitch.

Aizawa and the other leaders of the camp believe the individual took them close enough for them to walk to their camp. Aizawa suspects it is one of his former students whom he didn’t have any contract  ever since the infamous incident. Majorly of his students calls them to be traitors.

“I still don’t get why we never told the truth about what actually happened that day.” The purple-haired male looks to the side to see Eri outside away from any harm playing with Kota.

“Hitoshi, It was a quick agreement exchange of keeping our mouths close and follow whatever story they want to make up. She swore to keep her word on securing your guys safe within her presence.” Aizawa applies pressure on his forehead to relieve the headache.

Aizawa remembering back to the U.A dorms where you are smiling and being a normal teenager. The image of that student whom he watched over for months became dark. She was no longer a child, but an emotionless shell of what she should be.

The lifeless eyes staring back at him, covered in bruises and blood that wasn’t her own. She was carrying unconscious Eri. You were bathed by your enemy’s blood. The remaining light of innocence in your eyes had vanished from existence. It only reveals just cold, calculated eyes that were staring at his soul.

“Aizawa.”

💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣-💥-💣

I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!

Any thoughts/Feelings/Predictions that you have while out reading this chapter.

I would love to hear them! <3

If you wish to be tagged, do comment down below.

[charlie-pippin-faraday]

now i’m still undecided on heather vs. theresa and we’re currently at a 4-4 tie, and i’d love more votes before i make a final decision. but, i did promise some headcanons, so even though i don’t have an official name yet, i’m giving you my headcanons now anyway

so, presenting: my headcanons about Eddie’s mother [this got a little lengthy but i have a lot of thoughts]

She's a fairly young mom. Like, not absurdly young, but definitely on the younger side. Like, I imagine her being like 25/26 when Eddie was born. And she's aged well, too, she looks good for her age

She looks EXACTLY like Eddie. He got EVERY physical trait from his mother and absolutely none from his father. She's got the blonde hair, hazel eyes, similar facial features. Like, you can tell on sight that they're mother and son

She doesn't sell herself as the "cool mom" and she doesn't TRY to be a "cool mom" but she is the cool mom

All of Eddie's friends in America think she's a "hot mom." This also extends to the Anubis gang. The day Jerome and Alfie meet her for the first time they go woah dude you have a hot mum. They bring this up a lot just to drive Eddie nuts. Jerome also threatens to flirt with his mother and become his new step-father, and Eddie seriously considers beating him up on the spot

Also the day Jerome and Alfie learn the phrase "MILF" is the day Eddie stops knowing peace, and he seriously considers throwing himself into the Atlantic Ocean

She is very sharp and smart, but not like a nerd or anything

She's a really big sports fan, and that's the reason why Eddie is super into all the New York sports; she brought him up that way, and he took to it like a fish to water. They love to go to games together

She is really enthusiastic, friendly, and warm. She's definitely a talker. She wants to hear about what's going on in Eddie's life, and she wants him to feel comfortable talking to her about anything

She definitely has a gossipy group of friends, like a book club or something. And she loves to tell them about Patricia and how her son is head-over-heels in love with this incredibly delightful girl

She is an INCREDIBLY patient woman; she has to be to deal with Eddie's anger and abandonment issues and teen rebellion. He acts out and gets in trouble and even gets kicked out of school but she keeps her cool. She's definitely the authority in the house, but she's probably not as tough on him as she has a right to be because she understands. She gets it; he's angry, he's upset, he's going through stuff that most teens don't have to. He needs support much more than he needs discipline

It's really awkward to be a teen boy and have your mom be the one who gets you through puberty and teach you all the growing up stuff, but they did it

She and Eddie are very close. Not like an unhealthy amount, and not to the point where he'd call his mom his "friend," but they are definitely closer than the average mother and son. It was just the two of them growing up in their house, they were all they had, really. Eddie was a complete momma's boy from birth, and still is. Eddie cried the first day of kindergarten when he had to leave her, and she tells Patricia this and Eddie is mortified

Eddie also calls her all the time when he's at school in England

Like Eddie, she was also a troublemaker in her youth; that's where he gets it from. She's adventurous, and she loved to sneak out, have fun, get into trouble. She also loved to instigate fights/drama at like family Thanksgiving and sit back and watch the world burn

Eddie grew up in New York; that's where they lived, they're New Yorkers. But, some time after Eddie goes to college, she moves out of the city and into New Jersey. Eddie sees it as a complete betrayal of "our people."

She hated absolutely every one of Eddie's previous girlfriends/dates before Patricia. She thought all those girls were shallow and dull, and she always thought Eddie could do better

She LOVES Patricia to the end of the earth. Like the SECOND she meets her she thinks "I want her to be my daughter." She loves her fire, she loves every little thing about her personality, but mainly she loves how deeply her son is in love with her; like, she can see that Eddie is absolutely smitten by this girl. And she loves him back, she can see that. She loves Patricia so much that Eddie starts to think she's starting to like Patricia more than him, which bristles the momma's boy just a little bit. She shows Patricia all of Eddie's old embarrassing childhood photos and moments, she joins Patricia in roasting Eddie, and she tells Patricia if there's ever anything she needs or if she just wants to talk she's always just a phone call away (Patricia definitely takes advantage of this offer, often). Patricia reminds her a little bit of herself, which is another reason why she likes her. After they graduate she tries to start manifesting their engagement and put those vibes out into the air

I imagine she met Eric when she was fairly young, early 20s. Here's how I personally imagine it went down: Eric went to New York for some kind of teaching training/program or job opportunity. They met at the New York public library, and a passionate love affair started from there. She thought he was sophisticated and she loved listening to him talk about the things he was passionate about, and they could have smart discussions together. Also she loved his accent. Her family members were not the biggest fans of this relationship: he was a good bit older than her, and he was from another country so they thought he wouldn't stay, and they thought it was moving at an incredibly torrid pace. Being the rebel that she was, she just went "well this just makes me want to do it more." And it did indeed move fast, and things were good for awhile. Until they weren't.

Eric left shortly after Eddie was born. Like, a few months. He just up and left, and she didn't really hear from him again for about 16 years. And she HATED him for it. He left her alone with this new baby. She was MAD and UPSET. Eventually that calmed down to bitterness, but that bitterness never died. She is STILL bitter towards him to this day, and tbh she'll take every chance she can get to be petty to him

Raising Eddie on her own was really hard, and scary. But she bucked up and did it because she loves that boy with her entire heart. Eddie doesn't really recognize it or appreciate it as a child, but when he grows up he calls his mom one of the bravest people he knows

She never got remarried and never even really dated; being a mom was her top priority

She thought the hardest day of her life was the day that Eric left, but no. That wasn't nearly the hardest day of her life. The hardest day of her life was the day child Eddie asked "why don't I have a dad like the other kids at school?" and she had to tell him what happened, or at least as much as he would understand, knowing that it would break his little heart

It was really painful for her to send Eddie off to boarding school in England. It made her really emotional to send him off with his father, who hurt the both of them, and whom she's still really bitter towards. But she knows he deserves the chance to get to know his father. And aside from like summer camps and such, this is the first time he'd be away from her for an extended period of time, and he's so FAR away, like that's her BABY. Her ONLY baby, the most precious thing in her world. She never tells him, but she cries like nobody's business after he gets on that airplane and flies away

She's got this fear that Eddie and his dad are gonna somehow get along SO well that he'll one day change his last name to Sweet. But, when Eddie not only says that that will NEVER happen and he'll stay a Miller, but that Patricia's also gonna take that last name when they get married and they'll be the Millers, she is overjoyed. And she has this feeling of satisfaction and vindication, like she won

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Welcome To Backwater ch.3 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch is getting out and meeting new people, if only things weren’t a little...ominous. 

Content:  Spicyhoney, Midwest Gothic

~~*~~

Read Chapter Three on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

The thing was, Stretch had never really lived on his own. For most of his life, he’d lived with his brother. Taking care of Blue when he was a kiddo, then sort of swapping roles for a while as they got older. By the time they were on the surface, they had a pretty good give and take going when it came to cohabitation. Living with his bro was never the problem.

It was moving back in with him after everything went down that was the hard part. His sympathy felt more like stifling pity, the relentless cheer Stretch normally adored was grating, and as much as Stretch loved his brother, (and he did, his brother was the coolest and fuck anyone who didn’t see that), he just…he couldn’t. Not right now.

That all came to a head and landed him on the midnight bus to anywhere and living here essentially alone was turning into a balancing act between being necessarily solitary and lonely enough to start befriending the local spooks, and now look at him.

Standing in Red’s living room and armed with a lamp shaped like a flamingo, probably about to be murdered for the hundred bucks in the front register and Red’s shitty microwave, and his first stupid thought was, holy shit, he’s gorgeous.

Not that it wasn’t a valid thought, but it didn’t do much to better the situation. A skeleton Monster (another one? really?) that was almost as tall as he was, but instead of Stretch’s scrawny bod and knobby knees poking out of his cargo shorts, this guy looked like he’d just stepped out of GQ’s leather edition, available only with a valid ID. From those slender hips with all the right curves all the way up to the delicate intricacies of his cervical vertebra, he was like a book written in braille, begging for a touch. Those cheekbones alone were sharp enough to do more damage than any damn lamp, fuck, he should have to carry a weapons license for those things, they were sure as hell giving Stretch a good stab in the libido.

Mystery guy only stood there in Red living room, cool and calm in spite of the fact he was wearing a sleek leather jacket and knee-high damn motorcycle boots, (fuck, those legs), on a sweltering day. Didn’t even bother to pull his hands out of his jeans pockets, like he was hanging around patiently for a fucking takeout order instead of starring in a home invasion.

The guy raised a browbone, and fuck, how did even the scar running through his socket seem sexy? “Well?” Mystery Man said, “Nothing else to say?”

That broke the spell. Well, kinda, holy shit, take two. That voice, it was almost rich enough to pour into a cup, but damn, if Sugar Tongue here dusted Red, what was Stretch gonna tell the cops? That he was too busy getting seduced by those dark molasses wiles to do anything about it?

Stretch brandished the lamp again and blustered out, “i asked you first!”

The guy sighed heavily and for half an idiot second, Stretch felt bad for disappointing him. “If we’re going to continue down this path of childish competition, then I was here first. Would you care to offer a rebuttal? Or is that word too complicated for you, I’d make an attempt to bring it down to your level, but I don’t have the time to journey back out of the realm of stupidity today.”

That was enough to snap him out of this guy’s erotic stupidity spell. Great, he was a murderer and a dick, Stretch should’ve known. No one with hips like that could be on the side of good. He raised the lamp again threateningly, flamingo-beak facing front, “the only butt around here is gonna be yours when i kick it!”

The guy only rolled his eye lights, deep crimson, huh, how about that. “Ah, how refreshing it is to have a chance to engage in such cunning debate,” he drawled. “But as enchanting as this has been, let me interrupt the vigilante plotline you seem to be starting. I’m only here to drop off a package for my brother.”

“brother?” Stretch parroted dumbly. Oh. Ohhhhh, for fuck’s sake he was an idiot. Red eye lights, skeleton monster, all he was missing was a fucking name tag that said, ‘Red’s Tall Brother, Please Do Not Ambush.’

Well, that was one way to make a first impression.

Stretch sheepishly lowered the lamp, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. “oh. uh, sorry about that, i’m a little on edge.”

“On edge, are you,” the guy repeated. One corner of his mouth pulled upward in a sardonic little smile, another sign of the unfairness of life that it only made him look even more appealing, if that were possible. Sex on legs and that voice? Some guys cheated to role for charisma twice was all Stretch was saying. “Ah, aren’t life’s little ironies precious.”

Before Stretch could figure out what the heck that meant, he heard the familiar thump and bump of Red hurrying down the hallway. The door was flung open hard enough to bounce against the opposite wall and Red paused in the doorway, taking in the scene. His brother standing there is all his sexy glory, completely unconcerned and weaponless, and Stretch still sweaty and disheveled from trekking through the heat outside, standing there with a lamp in his hands trying to look like he hadn’t been ready to bonk the guy on the noggin like the first chapter of an Agatha Christie novel.

Red was snickering before Stretch could even scramble for any sort of excuse, “whatcha gonna do with the lamp, armstrong, knock his lights out?”

“i was improvising,” Stretch mumbled. He plunked the hideous thing back on the table, fumbling to plug it back in. "you didn't tell me you had a brother."

"no?” Red set both hands on the top of his cane to lean against it and innocent was not a voice he wore well, nope. “musta slipped my mind."

"Your mind is ever slippery, brother," said brother put forth in a clipped tone, "Somehow, you managed to forget to mention this…person…to me as well."

"and 'cause i did you got to have an excitin' first meeting,” Red said, abandoning innocence for pure mischief. He gave them both a broad wink, “ain't that right?"

About the only thing Stretch and this guy had in common was the mutual dirty looks they gave back to that.

“only if you get your thrills from a criminal sort of meet and greet,” Stretch said.

"Yes," the brother said irritably, "Very exciting. And now that we’ve all confirmed who I am, would you care to explain who this is?”

Red’s grin widened, his gold tooth winking in the mellow sunlight streaming in through the tatty curtains. “my new clerk.”

“Your—” That irritation melted into horror as the guy’s spine went ruler-straight as if someone jammed a yardstick up his ass before he blustered out, “have you lost your tiny little mind?”

Stretch couldn’t help feeling a little insulted. It was a little grocery store, not the Ritz, they didn’t need all their cheese on the crackers to manage selling ‘em, thanks.

Red didn’t seem bothered by his brother’s disbelief, he only shrugged, “nah. don’t think so, anyway.” Then with a touch of acid, “not like you’re around long enough to find out.”

His brother ignored that. Seemed like he was still stuck on Red’s audacity in hiring a clerk. “You have,” he said wonderingly, “You’ve completely lost your mind this time. And you’re keeping him right here in the house?”

“room upstairs, but yeah.” Red sucked on his teeth loudly, grinning his wide, feral grin. “got a problem with that, little brother?”

Conversation briefly ceased as they both seemed to be trying to communicate in glares and Stretch didn’t know enough of the language to interpret, but he didn’t think it was going well. Especially not when the tall drink of brother abruptly turned to him and said, “Go get your things.”

Stretch only gaped at him, too surprised to even protest, of all the fucking arrogance—!

“Go get your things,” he repeated, a touch louder and flavored with a dash of impatience, “and I’ll take you to the bus depot right now.”

“you’re serious,” Stretch said in disbelief. He shook his head with a short laugh, “heh, sorry, champ, not going anywhere on your say-so. besides, i just got here, if i leave now, I’ll never get voted prom queen.”

The other guy’s face didn’t so much as twitch and intensity in that crimson gaze made Stretch want to look away. He resisted, meeting that glare defiantly, even as he said, quietly, “If you stay long enough, leaving won’t be an option.”

Stretch only snorted, seriously, what was with this guy? “and you’re calling your brother a nut?”

He didn’t bother to answer that one, only swung around and pointed an accusing finger in Red’s direction. “This is on you, brother.”

Red only gave him that easy, sharky grin back. “always was.”

Stretch thought that was the end of it. The guy nodded shortly and started towards the door, brushing past Stretch to get to it and that was where he paused. He turned towards Stretch, those red eye lights moving over him searchingly. The end table with its returned lamp was at Stretch’s back, there was nowhere to go as Red’s brother loomed into his personal space, leaning in uncomfortably close, only inches away from Stretch’s collarbone as he sniffed delicately.

“Hm,” he said thoughtfully.

Stretch resisted the urge to give his armpits a testing sniff. “what?”

But he only drew away and gave Red another unreadable look. Red nodded once.

What. The. Fuck?

“Fine,” the guy sighed out. His hands curled into brief fists, sharpened fingertips pressed into his palms. “It’s your problem, brother, you deal with it.”

“don’t i always?”

“Perhaps with the least amount of property damage possible, if you don’t mind.” He gave Stretch another dismissive half-glance. “Now if you’ll excuse me, brother."

He turned and started to walk off and yeesh, even the way he walked caught the eye, damn, hate to see you leave, love to watch those hips go.

Down boy, Stretch told his libido. There was enough weird shit going on and he really didn’t need to take another hike down that path. Besides, with hot stuff constantly looking at him like something to be scraped off the bottom of his shoe, it wasn’t exactly opening the door for romance. He’d had his fill of assholes, a lifetime’s worth, and just case it might be a question, Stretch proved he was still an enormous idiot by calling to that leather-clad back, “didn’t catch your name.”

The guy didn’t even pause. “Then next time you should be a better hunter.”

With that he was out the apartment door. Stretch and Red stood there and listened to the cow bell jangling loudly, the door slamming, and then the roar of an engine speeding away.

Only then did Red speak again, with laconic ease, “if you’re done staring at my baby bro’s ass, y’can come eat with me.”

“i—" wasn’t, Stretch started to say, then shrugged. Busted. “don’t worry, i don’t think i’m his type.”

“don’t think too hard, gonna hurt yourself,” Red said, dry as a mouthful of sand. “what’s the problem, don’t think you got the right size font?”

“let’s not get into that, it’ll take too long,” Stretch tossed back. “and don’t take this the wrong way but your brother is a dick.”

“yeah,” Red said fondly, “ain’t he great? now, before you tried to light up my bro’s life, i was setting up for dinner. if you grab that bag, you can have some, too.”

Stretch followed where Red pointed with his cane to find an insulated bag sitting by the sofa, black because fuck knew Fonzie’s stunt double needed matching accessories. He lugged the bag along as he followed Red back down the hallway into the store, setting it on the counter while Red struggled into the chair. There were a couple of dusty bowls already sitting there next to the beers and Red gave them a cursory wipe with a rag of dubious cleanliness.

“my bro got his own place a while back,” Red unzipped the bag and pulled out a large ceramic casserole dish. “but he still drops off food for me coupla times a week. says that eating at ‘mama’s’ along with a double daily dose of mac and cheese ain’t healthy.”

Stretch watched, reluctantly intrigued. “he doesn’t stick around for dinner?”

“nah, my bro has kinda a special diet.” Red pulled the lid off and steam rose out, along with the gorgeous, rich smell of sinfully delicious food. Long greenish noodles drenched in some sort of glistening sauce with chunks of more green and purple veggies mixed in, and dusted with a heavy sprinkle of parmesan. Whatever it was, it wasn’t anything like what they brought to the table at Olive Garden.

Stretch inhaled deeply, his mouth already watering. “holy shit, he cooked this?”

“cooked it, hell,” Red spooned out portions, uncaring about the little drips that fell on the counter and pushing the first bowl over to Stretch. “he makes the pasta by hand. planted the veggies, too, like he’s fucking ol’ macdonald on his farm. he made that stew i gave ya the first night, too.”

Stretch barely heard him because he’d already taken his first bite and had he really thought Red’s brother looked sexy? He was wrong, totally wrong, because this was the sexy, this delectably orgasmic taste exploding across his tongue in a blend of garlic and vinaigrette, carried on perfectly al dente noodles mingling with the bright crunch of zucchini and beets. It was hard not to moan aloud as he chewed down that first bite and went back for another.

“is he single? i changed my mind, holy fuck, i’m gonna marry him and chain him to the stove,” Thoughtlessly said around a mouthful of deliciousness and Stretch winced as he realized what he said, “sorry, sorry, bad joke.”

Red only slurped up more noodles, teeth glistening with oil and the long strands flinging droplets of sauce as he sucked them in. “he’s single, but good luck putting a leash on him. go ahead, ask him out next time he stops by. i could use a good laugh, ‘cause, honey, you two hooking up would be a joke.”

Absurdly stung, Stretch shrugged and tried on a laugh, “hey, i’m a hell of a catch. gainfully employed and everything.”

“oh, yeah, you’re the seafood special, all right.” Red’s sharp teeth sheared easily through the noodles as he took another bite. “rebound fucks never work out, kid.”

“how did you—" Stretch stopped with a groan as Red raised both brow bones mockingly. He slumped back over his bowl, twirling up noodles on his fork. “yeah, yeah, handed that over with gift wrap.”

“yep, you did.” Red clapped Stretch on the shoulder with enough force to make him drop his fork. “the list of reasons people end up in the middle of nowhereville is pretty fucking short, kid, an’ you got that look. don’t worry ‘bout it, you got a place to stay here as long as you want.”

The unexpected kindness from Red of all people made him blink hard, but then, that wasn’t really giving him a fair shake, was it, not when he’d given Stretch a job to begin with and kept him semi-fed. “thanks.”

“don’t mention it, to anyone.” Red said dryly. He sucked down the last of the noodles and pushed the bowl away with a sigh. “gonna ruin my rep. make you a deal, air conditioning’s better down here. if you wanna watch tv in my place, y’can go ahead, if,” he stressed, “if ya call your brother. bet he’s out of his mind worried by now.”

“how—” Stretch shut his mouth hard enough for his teeth to click together. Red only looked serenely back, the chair creaking as he leaned back and laced his hands together over his middle. He looked away, not wanting to see what else might shine knowingly in those crimson eye lights. “i’ll text him.”

“good enough,” Red said agreeably. He pulled a can of beer off the plastic ring and popped it open, gulping some down and belching with mellow contentment. “where the fuck did you go earlier, i been waiting on these beers.”

Stretch’s bowl was empty and he ran a finger along the inside of it, licking away the smear of leftover sauce. “to see a movie.”

Red’s mouth opened in a silent ‘ah’. “didja say hi to doris?”

That was not what Stretch expected. “i…yes. you’ve seen her?” Stupid to think Red hadn’t, he’d been here for a long time, hard to believe he’d never stepped into the theater and any Monster with half a gram of sense would’ve noticed her.

“sure, loads of times,” Red said, confirming it. “sweet gal. don’t be offended if she don’t remember you right away, she’s gotta little problem with short term memory.” He pointed a finger at his temple and let his thumb drop like the hammer on a gun. “keep stoppin’ in and eventually you’ll stick. takes her a mo’ when i stop by, but she gets there.”

“good to know.” And it was. Any faint, stupid hurt that he wasn’t the first Monster in Doris’s unlife was a little eased by that tidbit. He probably would’ve been more upset if he went to see her again tomorrow and had to go through the intros again without it.

“okay, g’wan, get outta here,” Red shoved a beer in Stretch’s direction and waved him off. “just remember, wheel of fortune is on at 7.”

Stretch took the dirty bowls with him along with the serving dish, giving them a quick wash and setting them into Red’s already overflowing dish drainer. He spent the rest of the afternoon on the saggy sofa in the living room, watching reruns of ‘MASH’ and ‘Little House On the Prairie’ until Red closed shop for the Wheel.

That night Stretch had a strange dream. Vast trees towering over him and unstable ground beneath his feet. He stood in a puddle of ragged moonlight and when red eyes loomed out of the darkness, he met their stare and didn’t run. Not even when he saw the huge, dark shape that contained them, jagged white teeth in a gaping maw that gnashed and slavered, ready to consume him. The shape leapt at him and he couldn’t move, trapped by that gaze. He woke with a gasp before it landed, waking with a scream tangled up on his throat, clammy sheets sticking to his sweaty bones.

He lay for a moment on the thin mattress, catching his breath. His window was covered, had been since his second night here and he’d found an old blanket in his closet, tacked it up to keep out the blistering heat of the noontime sun. Now it kept out the midnight darkness and he didn’t even glance at it as he rolled to his feet and headed into the bathroom to splash cold water on his sweaty face.

He set both damp hands on the sides of the sink and looked at his dripping reflection. The only shadows in this room were the ones beneath his sockets. His skull was pale, his eye lights pinpricks of diffused white.

“liar,” he whispered to his reflection and watched as it whispered it silently back.

But that was one shipment of guilt he could offload right now.

Stretch shuffled back out and scooped his phone off the nightstand. He ignored the messages, the voicemails, and only tapped out a message of his own, hitting send before he could think of an excuse not to.

i’m okay, little brother, i’m safe. i’ll call soon.

It wasn’t a lie. Soon was relative, just like brothers.

He sank back down on his damp sheets and didn’t bother to turn out the lights.

tbc

[iam93percentstardust]

I'm bombarding you with those prompts, so I fully understand if you just ignore all those you don't like, lol. Would WinterIronFalcon be an OT3 you're intrested in writing? Some established WinterFalcon with Tony pining helplessly after them, not believeing he could have a chance? With a dash of angst in it? Thank you ♡

There isn’t much angst in this but there is hopeless pining so yay?

Also on ao3 here

~

“Share Bear, it’s not fair,” Tony whines into the phone.

“What isn’t?” his cousin asks, sounding patient but also kind of amused. He takes the phone away from his ear and squints at it. Is she making fun of him? She probably is, Sharon always makes fun of him. She’s mean like that; he’s pretty sure she gets it from Natasha.

“They’re so fucking gorgeous, I can’t stand it.”

“Oh. Them again. Seriously Tony, didn’t you used to have better taste?”

“Excuse you,” he says, offended. “My taste is perfect.”

“They think arguing is foreplay.”

“It’s bickering! And it’s cute!”

“Gross,” Sharon says cheerfully.

“God hates me,” Tony says dramatically, flinging his hand over his eyes. “That’s why he cursed me to work with two such beautiful humans who are already dating each other.”

“Tony—”

“I know Bucky stays up to date with the fandom,” he continues, going a little quieter. “He’s gotta know that tons of people ship the three of us. But he doesn’t say anything about it. Share Bear, why doesn’t he say anything?”

“Probably because for every person who ships all three of you, there’s twice as many who ship just you and him,” she admits. “I know that if someone were shipping Maria and Nat and ignoring that I even exist, I’d be pretty upset.”

“Yeah,” he says glumly.

“What’re you filming today anyway?” she asks.

“True Crime. We were supposed to be doing an episode of Supernatural at the Odinson Mystery House, you know, over in Norway where the son found out he was adopted and then got super into Norse mythology and supposedly disappeared into a rainbow?”

“Oh yeah, that guy was crazy.”

“Wasn’t,” Tony insist stubbornly. “There are three different eyewitnesses and they all saw the same thing.”

“All three eyewitnesses tested positive for meth.”

“It was trace amounts and ruled irrelevant to the case. Anyway, there’s some sort of blizzard so our flight got canceled. We figured we’d get a jump on this season’s True Crime episodes instead.”

“What are you doing this week?”

He scowls into the phone. “Fandom episode. They voted for Captain America.”

He can practically hear Sharon wince. “I’m sorry. That fucking sucks.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, not least because both of them know exactly what happened to Captain America. He was recovered from the Arctic back in the 50s and went on to live a very happy and fulfilling life with Aunt Peggy. But that’s a very closely guarded state secret; the U.S. government can’t let it get out that Steve Rogers survived nearly a decade in the ice. Technically, Tony and Sharon aren’t even supposed to know but Aunt Peggy had insisted she be allowed to tell them after she took custody of Sharon and Tony moved out of Howard’s and into her home. It’s kind of cool actually, knowing that Uncle Steve is really Captain America. He’s a pretty great guy. It just kind of sucks that he can’t tell anyone about it and now he has to do a whole episode about it when everyone knows he’s a shitty liar.

He’d talked it over with Uncle Steve and Aunt Peggy when the results of the vote had first come in. Aunt Peggy’s advice had been to act more manic than usual, throw even more outlandish theories into the mix, and really make this episode about the banter between him and Bucky. “Direct their attention away from Steve,” she’d said. “They’re already going to be looking at you. Just make sure they’re doing it for the wrong reason.”

He kind of wants to kiss Bucky. That would definitely draw attention away from the episode. But that’s not fair to either Bucky or Sam, who are very happy with their relationship and don’t need a homewrecker like Tony throwing a spanner into the mix.

“Good luck,” Sharon tells him before they hang up. “You’re gonna need it.”

“Wow, thanks,” he mutters but she’s already gone.

~

Marvels Unsolved was never supposed to be this popular. It started off as a novelty webseries about Tony trying to convince Bucky about the existence of the supernatural—he firmly believed that if science could turn Uncle Steve from an actual shrimp to the god of muscles, then magic had to be out there—and then they’d started talking about an unsolved crime from the early 20th century after filming an episode one day, forgetting that the camera was still rolling, and had ended up with enough footage to make a second episode about real crimes. They had stayed pretty unknown throughout that first season but then true crime podcasts had exploded in popularity and Unsolved along with them.

Now they have a fandom and merchandise and actual fanfiction written about them, which is the craziest thing. They both have several often-quoted gifs floating around the Internet and Bucky has somehow become the poster child for being unimpressed by literally everything (he actually makes some of the best faces when something genuinely scary happens but they always end up editing those parts out—he has an image to maintain after all).

They brought Sam on once they started gaining in popularity. Tony, by that point, already had a pretty well-established crush on Bucky. He’d even thought that he had a chance with his co-host, small as it may be, and at first, it hadn’t seemed like Sam was going to change anything. He and Bucky argued all the time so Tony had been absolutely stunned when he’d stumbled upon them making out like it was the end of the world.

They had just finished filming their second season. Sam had suggested going out to a local bar. He’d suggested it for all three of them but Tony had, inexplicably, felt like a third wheel all night as Sam and Bucky bickered. At one point, Sam had disappeared off to the restroom and a couple minutes later, Bucky had followed him. Tony doesn’t know how long he had sat there waiting for them but he’d eventually gone looking for them only to find Sam pressing Bucky up against a wall.

And that had been that.

Three years later, Sam and Bucky are still going strong, Tony is as smitten with Sam as he is with Bucky despite knowing how hopeless both crushes are, and the fandom seems convinced to either write Sam out of Tony and Bucky’s relationship or write Tony into Sam and Bucky’s. He wishes they would stop. He stays pretty up to date with the fandom as well and they have all these meta posts about the way Bucky looks at him or something. It just keeps giving him hope but, well, it’s been three years. If Bucky wanted him, or if Sam did for that matter, they would have done something long ago.

~

“Hey, you doing okay?” Sam asks him as they’re setting up.

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” He avoids meeting Sam’s eyes, focusing instead on adding creamer to the coffee. Marvels had presented them with these mugs last year to congratulate them on four years of Unsolved. They’ve got their most iconic quotes printed on them, Bucky’s with “Obviously I killed JFK” and Tony’s with “I’m the dramatic bitch your mom warned you about.” Sam has one too with his one and only line in the entire show printed on it (“Why did I agree to work with you?”) but since he’s always behind the camera, he doesn’t have to use the same mug for each episode.

“You just seem a little off.” The worst part is that Sam genuinely looks concerned. If they didn’t care about him, he thinks his crush might be easier to manage but they do because they’re just nice guys like that. “I know you weren’t too thrilled when we announced this week’s case.”

“Howard worked with him, practically hero-worshipped the damn guy. Of course, I’m not excited.”

Sam winces. They know all about Tony’s shitty relationship with Howard after his dad called Marvels furious that his son was hosting a webseries instead of coming home to grovel at his feet and take over the business. The whole team had been brought in to listen as Fury tried to placate him. By the end, Bucky had been furious on Tony’s behalf and Sam had berated Fury for twenty minutes for making Tony listen to the vitriol his dad had spewed. It had cemented his crush on Sam, then just a passing fancy, into something real and permanent.

“Seriously, Sam, I’m fine. Might be a little off today but I would have said if I didn’t think I could do it.”

Sam doesn’t look convinced but he agrees anyway. Tony sits down next to Bucky and passes him his mug. Bucky shoots him a grin and murmurs, “Thanks, doll.”

Tony doesn’t blush but that’s only because he has five years of practice. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Sam counting them down and he turns to face the camera, settling his hands in front of him.

“This week on Marvels Unsolved True Crime and in celebration of our 100th episode,” he begins, “we asked you what you’d like us to investigate and you came back—”

“—overwhelmingly,” Bucky interjects.

“Many, many times,” Tony agrees, “with a topic near and dear to my own heart: Captain America.”

“That’s right,” Bucky says, sounding surprised though Bucky had been the first to point out that maybe they shouldn’t do this episode because of Tony’s connections to Project Rebirth. “Your dad helped turn Steve Rogers into Captain America, didn’t he?”

“And he never let me forget it!” Tony says cheerfully.

“One hundred episodes,” Bucky says slowly, enunciating each word. “Can you believe that, doll?”

Sometimes, he wonders why the fans ship them when Sam is right there. Other times, Bucky says things like this and he understands completely.

“Not even a little bit, Bucky Babe.” Okay, so maybe he doesn’t help.

“One hundred. The big one zero zero.”

“We tried to do something extra special and get Sam in front of the camera for you guys—”

“—so you could see what a hunk he is—”

“—but Sam said that he didn’t trust anyone else to film us properly—”

“—which makes sense because Tony? If you put him in the wrong light, he’s practically a gremlin—”

“Hey!”

“I’m just telling the facts.”

“Well, the facts are wrong.”

“They’re facts, sweet thing, they can’t be wrong.”

“Can too. Anyway, since Sam refuses to join us—”

“—and that just breaks my heart because Sam, he’s one of my favorite guys, you know?”

Tony pauses. It’s not like Bucky to say anything nice about Sam. Usually, it’s all good-natured insults and bickering. He must really be fed up with the Starkbucks shippers to say something like this when they’re still this early in the show.

“Only one of?” he asks curiously.

Bucky shoots him one of those filthy grins that their audience loves so much. “Well, it’s hard not to include you on that list,” he drawls.

He’s not going to blush.

He’s not going to blush.

He’s not going to—

Damn it.

Whatever. It’s no big deal, that’s what editing is for. So what if Sam has never edited out one of Tony’s blushes yet? Maybe Tony will get lucky and he will this time.

“You know, I was actually named for Captain America’s sidekick?” Bucky asks, getting them back on track.

“Wow, that is deeply unfortunate,” Tony deadpans.

“Yeah, Dad’s a fanboy. His whole troop was pinned down and rescued by the two of them. He tells the story all the time—kind of like your dad.”

“Except my dad goes straight past into fanboy and directly into obsession territory.”

“…Fair enough.”

“Really? That’s all you’re going to say?”

Bucky shrugs and takes a sip out of his mug. “I’ve been inside your house. I’ve seen the Steve Rogers shrine. I’m not going to argue with you.”

Tony thinks about that for a moment. “It is kind of a shrine, isn’t it? Anyway, we’ve got some great stuff for you today. We’re going to crack open this cold case, show you some never-before-seen footage courtesy of my mom sneaking my dad’s old war tapes out of the mansion, and then we’ll talk a little bit about the theories out there.”

“How many of them are going to be ridiculously outlandish and physically impossible?”

Tony glares at him. “None of them. I have never once presented a ridiculously outlandish and physically impossible theory.”

“Right because alien abduction is a valid—”

“Aliens are real!”

“You said that crabs might have eaten Amelia Earheart!” Bucky shouts over him.

“It’s a valid theory!”

“I take it back, you’re not one of my favorite people anymore.”

“That really hurts me, deep inside,” Tony says sarcastically, trying to cover up that maybe that does send a small pang shooting through his chest. He likes the thought of being one of Bucky’s favorite people. He doesn’t want to lose that.

“How deep?” Bucky asks and winks.

“Very deep. Way, way deep down. Practically in my—”

Bucky’s eyes widen and he nearly chokes on his coffee. “Okay, that’s enough of that. Let’s get into the facts.”

“Hey, that’s my line!”

~

“With a missing plane and pilot and so much redaction in the files, we’re lucky to even have a name, let’s get into the theories.”

“Actually, wait, before we do that,” Bucky says, “I want to ask if you’ve ever noticed that your voice changes when you’re doing the voiceovers.”

“Wait, what?” Tony asks. He glances at him, to one of the cameras, then back to Bucky. “What do you mean?”

“You know, it gets all deeper like you’re trying to voice movie trailers or something.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Sure it does.”

Tony shakes his head. “There’s no way.”

They both turn toward Sam, who thinks about it and then makes a ‘sort of’ motion with his hand.

“Told you!” Bucky says triumphantly.

“You’re such a child,” Tony sneers.

“Yeah, that’s why you like working with me so much.”

Behind the camera, Sam silently snickers and Tony glares at him before telling the camera, “If you’re watching, let us know in the comments. Is my apparent movie trailer voice okay or does it need to go like Bucky clearly thinks?”

Bucky goes paler. “Hey, wait, I didn’t say it had to go.”

“It was implied when you brought it up,” he argues.

“No!” Bucky insists. “I was just wondering if it was on purpose.”

They both turn toward Sam, who thinks about it and then makes a ‘sort of’ motion with his hand.

“Aha!” Tony says triumphantly.

“Traitor,” Bucky mutters into his coffee.

Sam signs, “I’ll make it up to you when we get home tonight.”

“And that was more than I ever wanted to learn about Sam and Bucky’s love life,” Tony lies through his teeth. “Let’s get into the theories. I only have two for you today, one of which I think Bucky will particularly like.”

“Oh no.”

“Our first theory is that Steve Rogers died in a plane crash on December 16, 1944. Winter months in the Arctic are known to be particularly stormy. There would have been low visibility due to the high latitude and time of year and with the waters and surrounding land being well below freezing, it’s possible that, even if Captain Rogers survived the impact, he would have frozen to death in the stormy seas.”

Bucky thinks about it for a second. “Yeah, that seems plausible.”

“In addition, Howard Stark, a known Captain America aficionado and the father of Marvels Unsolved’s best host—”

“You lie like a rug!” Bucky howls.

Tony snickers and then when Sam signs, “He’s really not,” bursts out into full-out laughter.

Once he’s recovered, he continues, “Howard Stark has spent the first fifty years after the crash of the Valkyrie and the last twenty funding searches in the Arctic in the hopes of recovering Captain Rogers’ body. He has found no evidence that Captain Rogers survived the crash although he did find part of the remains of the Valkyrie and has since stated that, ‘No human could have survived that crash.’”

The expeditions are a scam and have been since Howard first found the Valkyrie crash site and Uncle Steve along with it. He hadn’t been planning on continuing the expeditions—too costly, as he claims—but when Aunt Peggy had told him that Uncle Steve’s survival had to remain a secret, he’d kept them up for pretense’s sake.

Bucky is saying something about how it sucks that the first superhero is gone and when he finishes, Tony grins and says, “Then you’ll like our second theory.”

“Somehow, every time you say that, I end up completely hating it. Wonder why that is.”

“Our second theory is that Steve Rogers survived the crash and is still alive but cryogenically frozen in the ice. There—”

“Bullshit!”

Tony starts laughing but he tries to continue on over Bucky shouting that it’s complete nonsense. It’s hard and he knows that Sam will probably have to do some editing and maybe make Tony do some voiceover work in order to make the theory audible but he thinks he manages to do a pretty good job.

Bucky is pouting by the end of it, arms crossed over his chest. “What fucking bullshit,” he mutters.

“The supersoldier serum—” Tony starts to point out.

“Isn’t a miracle drug.”

“That’s exactly what it is.”

“No, it just made him big and strong. It doesn’t just magically keep people alive when they should have died.”

And then they’re off into familiar territory, arguing about the merits of either theory. Tony’s actually feeling pretty good about himself, convinced that he’s doing a decent job of steering the conversation away of anything classified, right up until Bucky says, about halfway through the episode, “I’m surprised at you, Tony.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Surprised?”

“Usually, you have some absolutely batshit, off-the-walls crazy theory but these have actually been pretty normal for you.” He pauses and then adds for effect, “And you’re usually much better at your research than this.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on, even I know that there’s one more theory.”

He starts tapping at his chest nervously, almost wishing that he had a pair of sunglasses. Aunt Peggy always said that his lies are in his eyes, that they’re too expressive to hide the truth. When he was living with Howard, in the spotlight, he always had a pair of sunglasses to hide his eyes but he hasn’t wanted to use those since he moved out. He wishes he had them now.

“And what’s that?” he asks, feigning a casualness he doesn’t feel.

“That Steve Rogers lived and came out of the ice at some point and has been living out his life in anonymity.”

He barks out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t mention it because even I know that that theory is completely impossible.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before.” Sam nods agreeably. Bucky nods back at him and adds, “Even Sam agrees with me.”

“He’s your boyfriend, he’s practically required to.”

Both Sam and Bucky laugh at that one and yeah, okay, it was a pretty ridiculous statement. Anyone who knows them knows that being boyfriends is less likely to make them agree with each other.

“Look, Steve Rogers didn’t come out of the ice alive. Howard would have known for one thing and if you think, he could keep something like that quiet, then you don’t know him very well.”

“Maybe the government insisted it be a secret,” Bucky suggests, shrugging. “There have been plenty of people who have claimed over the last couple decades to be Captain America.”

Tony scoffs. “Oh come on, by that logic, anyone could be Captain America.”

“Maybe they could be.”

“No,” Tony says flatly. “It’s like that crazy conspiracy theory guy over on Reddit who’s convinced that Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

“Maybe Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

“Ooh do the butts match?” Tony says mockingly. “I mean, really, Bucky Babe, if we’re going off of lookalikes, then my fucking Uncle Steve is secretly really Steve Rogers, which is ridiculous because the guy’s like practically ancient and faints at the sight of blood in PG-13 movies.”

That sets off another round of arguing that lasts the rest of the episode until finally Tony wraps it up with, “Whether Steve Rogers died in 1944 or is still alive today is a mystery that will remain unsolved.”

They both pause for a moment to provide time for Sam to edit in the theme music and closing title. Usually, there would be some lighthearted bantering afterwards, maybe a joke about something they said earlier in the show. This time though, Bucky says thoughtfully, “The thing is, though, I’ve met your Uncle Steve—”

Tony goes cold.

“—and he really does kind of look like—”

Tony panics. That’s the only explanation that he has for declaring, “I’m done waiting,” reaching across the tables and grabbing hold of Bucky’s shirt, and yanking him forward to kiss him.

For a moment, Bucky is too startled to do anything but then he melts into Tony, mouth opening under his, tongue pushing forward to meet his. Bucky’s arms come around him, pulling him up and out of his chair and settling him into his lap. Tony makes a small greedy sound, swallowed by Bucky’s kiss, and then they’re both pulling away. Bucky’s lips are very red; Tony can’t stop staring at them even as he’s filled with dismay.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Why not?” Bucky demands.

“You—Sam—” He glances toward the camera but Sam isn’t standing there anymore. His heart drops into his stomach—has he just ruined Bucky and Sam’s relationship? But then he hears someone drop to their knees behind him and when he turns slightly, Sam’s fingers are on his chin, gently turning his head.

“How long?” Sam asks.

“How long what?”

“How long have we been wasting our time when we could have been kissing you instead?”

Three years, two months, and fifteen days. “Too long.”

Sam kisses him then, mouth gentler than Bucky’s but no less consuming. Bucky is a hard, hot line against his front; Sam is warm against his back and Tony? Tony loses himself in the storm that is the two of them, sparks shooting through him as Bucky’s hands find their way to his hips, as Sam’s tongue slips into his mouth, as Bucky whispers into his ear, “We’re not wasting any more time.”

~

Marvels Unsolved’s 100th episode shoots to their most watched, most liked video in less than a day and when asked, maybe the smallest handful of viewers could have said what it was about.

The day after it posts, only a week after it was filmed, Tony’s phone rings.

“Kill it with fire,” Sam says sleepily.

Tony, however, recognizes Aunt Peggy’s ringtone and he rolls over to grab it before Bucky can throw it at the wall. “Hello?” he asks groggily.

“Congratulations on not blowing Steve’s cover,” she says.

“Oh yeah,” Tony mutters. “Can I go back to bed now?”

“One more thing, duck.”

“What’s that?”

“Congratulations on the new boyfriends.”

[fluffykitty1999-blog]

Burned Chapter 16

Roy sat at the small desk with his ballot and pen, looking at the choices carefully.

"You said Susans wants to increase school funding and make the train schedule rigid. Trevors wants to restructure taxes and better waste disposal. And Xavier...?"

"Wants to slash the police budget to 'keep the cost of living down'." Ed frowned, looking unhappy at the notion. "I was actually headed towards the theater yesterday to see if I could catch the end of the debates when I found the newest victim."

"Right." Roy paused for a moment, thinking, before marking the box for Susans and standing, casting his ballot in the box and leaving, Ed quick behind him.

"So- how long until the election results come out?"

"Tomorrow morning. The voting closes at nine, and they'll be up until the wee hours of the morning counting votes. The morning papers will definitely be running the results."

"Huh. Neat." Ed stuffed both hands in his coat pockets as they kept walking along.

"Why the sudden interest in politics, anyways? You never really cared about rank." Roy admitted.

Ed shrugged. "I don't care for politics. But you do. You want to be Furher someday. And it's not a bad idea- having a basic understanding of the politics surrounding you can help you make a good decision and avoid getting stabbed in the back."

"So you've actually been paying attention to some of this stuff then?"

"That and any report I can get my hands on about this serial killer. People say things to me- people nobody listen to. The frustrated farmers, the miners in the dead end towns in the middle of nowhere- a lot of powerful people don't pay attention. But I do. I try to catalog it all away so I know the best decision to make. And who I can count on to back my interests in a crisis. Even the politicians let things slip to me, because they think I'm just a kid."

"Really, like what?"

"I... that promotion that was happening? Where Colonel Lincoln was made Brigadier General in west city?"

Roy stopped walking and his eyes hardened. He'd been more qualified for that position, but he hadn't even been considered.

"I knew you weren't going to get it." Ed said lamely.

Roy caught the boy by the shoulder to stop him walking and spun him around. "How?"

"I was at a bar in west city, chasing a lead on the stone. I ran into some drunk local- was trying to find the mineral broker's shop. But all the guy kept bragging about was how his brother was going to be brigadier general in 3 weeks. Cheated his way to the top."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Roy's features were stern, and he was pissed.

"Because... it was just going to frustrate you. There was nothing you could've done-"

"You don't know that! If you'd have told me, maybe I could've done something to out-compete him. You're my subordinate, you're supposed to report those things to me!"

"There's no way you could've beaten him-"

"And how do you know that, Ed?" Roy seethed.

Edward stepped closer to Roy, his eyes steely and voice sharp and barely above a whisper. "Because you wouldn't have let Lieutenant General Atkins fuck you. Lincoln did. I know you want to make it to the top. But I've been under your command long enough to know you wouldn't sacrifice your principles for it."

Roy's fists unclenched, and he found himself dumbfounded. "You're sure it's not a rumor? Just some drunk guy rambling?"

"No. It's not. I checked the current assignments when I got back- Lincoln and Atkins had been sent to a remote post near Drachma for reconnaissance together. Apparently they'd made an... arrangement... while they were there. Sex for rank. I wasn't sure if it was true, but when news of the promotion came about I knew it was..."

Roy sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "And why didn't you tell me this?"

"Because... you'd have gotten mad at me. Like you just did." Ed looked defensive and slightly angry as he glared at Roy, before his eyes found the ground. "Besides, it happens all the time. People try and trade... favors... for rank."

"No, Ed, they don't. Not in my office."

"I know you don't..." Ed bit his lip, kicking a stone with his boot.

Why wouldn't Ed meet his eyes? Realization hit Roy like a spark exploding into flame, and his eyes widened.

"Who? Who propositioned you, Ed?"

"You're gonna get mad again. It's nothing, can we just drop it?" there was a note of pleading in Ed's voice, and Roy frowned.

He took a deep breath and sighed. "No, Ed, we can't. Because you're a child and I got you into the military, and it's my duty to protect you."

"What are you gonna do, anyways? Anything you do will get swept under the rug, you're gonna throw away your whole career for one stupid kid?"

"I didn't say that." Roy took a breath, steadying himself. His heart pounded and he felt shaky. "More then likely, Ed, I won't be able to do anything. Right now. But I want to know because you are my subordinate, and it's my duty to protect you. And even if I can't do anything about it now, I want to know the name, so that I can put them at the top of my shit list when I have the rank to make their life hell. I'm not going to do anything stupid- but I'd like to know what happened."

Ed's eyes darted around the room. They were in a mostly empty hallway- the voting poll closed soon. "Not here." he said finally.

Alphonse was upstairs reading, out of earshot.

Ed sat morosely at the kitchen table, and Roy angrily put on the kettle, slamming it on the burner with more force than necessary.

What was most unnerving was that Ed still wouldn't meet his eyes, staring at the table like it was the most interesting thing in the room.

He opened the cupboard, pulling out their two favorite mugs, parking them on the counter and splashing a little milk into the bottom of both cups, before squeezing a generous amount of honey into the other cup- Ed's cup. Ed always seemed happier after he'd drank tea that was very sweet. He hung two teabags over the rim of each cup.

The kettle started to sing, and Roy plucked it from the stove, filling both cups before taking them both by the handle, walking over to the table and sliding the forest green mug across the table to Ed, and nursing his own yellow mug close to him as he sat down.

"Well?" Roy cocked an eyebrow.

Ed glanced up at him, before he was staring into his mug. It was rare that the Fullmetal alchemist was without words, and it settled like a block of ice in Roy's gut.

"Did they do more than talk? Ed, did they hurt you?"

"No! I... let me drink my damn tea. I'm trying to figure out how to explain it." Ed groused, frustrated, before he was taking a minuscule sip of scalding tea.

Roy waited one moment, two... The silence made him anxious. But he needed to be patient with Ed, couldn't push the boy.

"Remember when Major General Cole came up to visit from South City?" Ed said finally.

Roy frowned. "That was 8 months ago. You'd just passed the state alchemy exam." Ed had just turned 13. He remembered because Hawkeye had insisted they share a cake in the office with the boy the day before the visit. Ed had seemed surprised but please, and thanked her for the cake. He'd devoured his piece happily, and licked all the frosting from his fork. Ed really did like sweet things. Ed had been quiet for the next few days, but Roy had assumed it was because he was sad Al couldn't have a birthday like a normal kid as well...

"Yeah. Well I was in the washroom that day, and I was... using the urinal..." it was hard for Ed to keep the blush from his cheeks. "And this guy walked in. And he went behind me into a stall, and I thought, no big deal, he's gotta go too."

"And when I was washing my hands, I felt a hand on my shoulder. And I turned around and this guy is staring at me. And I saw the bars on his chest- I didn't even know what rank he was, just that he was higher than you- and I tried to salute him because I was nervous, but my hands were all soap, and it was just a mess. I got soap in my eyes."

Roy suppressed the urge to smile. While the mental image was funny, if he'd laughed Ed would've thought he was laughing at him, and been more embarrassed. And there was nothing funny about this situation.

"He told me to relax. Said he was Major General Cole from South city and he wanted to know if I was the Fullmetal Alchemist. So I said yeah, and he said he'd heard I was a prodigy. He said that with how far I'd moved up the ranks already- I was a major- he said if I transferred to under his command, he'd make me a Lieutenant Colonel in 3 months. If I worked for it. And I thought that was really cool, to be the same rank as Hughes, but then I noticed he was getting closer to me and so I stepped back."

"He reached up and touched my braid. Said I'd have to put in work to make it happen though. Spend late nights at the office with him so he could show me what I needed to know. That was when I started feeling kinda weird... Then he told me I looked like a girl. And that a face like mine would be appreciated in his office.

"I told him I wasn't interested. He asked whose command I was under and I said Mustang, and I lied and told him you'd be mad because I was supposed to be back with an urgent report. I know I lied but I was scared and I didn't like him and so I turned and left. I knew he might try something if I was alone, but he thought you were expecting me, so he didn't."

"And you didn't tell me any of this." Roy was disappointed- both that Ed was too scared to tell him, and that he'd been put in that position in the first place.

"I didn't want to make waves. I'd only just got my state alchemist watch, and I figured it wasn't important. I didn't want enemies."

"You didn't trust me and my team to protect you?"

"No, I did, I just... It wasn't important at the time, alright? I had bigger things on my mind. I mean, yeah, it was weird, but I had to start looking for the stone with Al, so I put it aside because I had work to do. Even now, I just try to stay clear of officers from South City."

Roy sighed. "I wished you'd told me sooner."

"Yeah, I should have... What are you gonna do to him? Major General Cole, I mean?"

"I'm not going to do anything. I'm going to mention it to Hawkeye. And she's going to watch his every move until he files a report late or misses some paperwork or drops the ball. And then an anonymous report will get put in and he'll get in trouble. He's gotta drop the ball sometime. And if he doesn't- well, when I'm fuhrer, he'll clean latrines for the rest of his damn life."

"Right. That's good." Ed sipped his tea, looking slightly relieved. It was almost 10, now, and Ed looked at the clock, acutely aware of the time. "Any news from Hughes on the investigation?"

"No." Mustang sat up a little straighter, acutely aware. "And you're not sneaking out to try and catch the killer tonight either, understand?"

"Hey I was just asking." Ed put both hands up, defensive. He took a long pull of warm tea and yawned. "I'm tired, anyways. Hughes can handle it. I was just gonna do some reading and go to bed. Oh..." Ed paused, looking up at Roy hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"Can... can we get a newspaper tomorrow morning? I want to know who won the election." Ed was almost shy about asking, and Roy smiled.

"Yeah. Yeah, we can get a newspaper tomorrow."

"Cool. I hope Susans wins. I hate waiting for trains." Ed punctuated the statement with a yawn, taking his half-full mug and standing, heading upstairs.

"'Night."

"Goodnight, Edward.".

If Roy knew Edward well enough, the boy would be asleep soon after he finished his tea. That was one of the little things about Edward he hadn't known until the boy had moved in with him. That the boy was much more relaxed and easy to send to bed after he'd had warm tea with a considerable amount of honey in it.

Edward climbed the stairs and was about to head to his room when he noticed a candle burning in the study. He paused, mug in hand, before he was ducking inside. There, on the desk, was a worn journal opened to a page. There was an alchemic array he hadn't seen before sketched in the middle of the page, and for a moment, his fatigue was forgotten, replaced by curiosity.

The handwriting was old and spidery, hard to read and definitely not Roy's. But the array looked familiar. It looked- it almost looked like the array on Roy's gloves.

Ed paused, looking down at the book in awe. It was a manual on flame alchemy- something rare and hard to understand. Something he'd been able to think about, but never perform.

He wasn't sure he should be looking at it. But now that it was in front of him, it was hard to tear his eyes away... There was no such thing as forbidden, was there? Not when he'd already committed the ultimate taboo of human transmutation. Besides, if flame alchemy could help him reach his goal...

Ed swallowed down his racing heart. Since when was he afraid? He'd never been afraid to break rules before. He picked up the book, pocketing it, blowing out the candle and ducking into his own room, lighting his own candle and starting to pour over the book.

When he heard mustang start to climb the stairs, he quickly blew out his candle and ducked beneath the covers, hiding the book beneath the sheets and feigning sleep. He heard Mustang pause at his door, checking he was asleep, before he continued on down the hall, to his own room. Once Ed was sure he was gone, he struck another match, re-lit his candle, and continued reading, pulling a notebook from the nightstand and starting to take notes.

Flame alchemy was the most complicated thing he'd read of, let alone attempted, since human transmutation.

What’s this? A button to donate currency to the caffinated liquid fund? O.o https://ko-fi.com/fluffykitty12

[snkpolls]

SnK Episode 62 Poll Results (for Anime Only Watchers)

The poll closed with 73 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that these are the results for the Anime Only Watchers’ poll. If you wish to see the results for the Manga Readers’ poll, click here.

Anime only watchers, beware of spoilers if you venture over to the manga readers’ poll results.

--

RATE THE EPISODE 68 Responses

Again, the response to last week’s episode was notably positive, with 98.5% of responses giving it a score of 3 or higher. Marley and Me is still going strong! 

Gave a 3 because while I don't give a rats ass about the Warriors or their "tragic" sob story, the animation and voice acting was on par

It was way better than the first two of the season I liked it a lot!!

I think it was one of the best episodes not only in this season, but in the entire show. It shows deepness of the characters in Attack on Titan and shows as the other side in such an amazing way. It was brilliant. 

I think the episode was pretty good

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING MOMENTS WAS YOUR FAVORITE? 68 Responses

Eren’s formal reveal as the amputee soldier took the biggest piece of the pie, with 45.6% of respondents enjoying that scene the most. Trailing behind that is Reiner’s tragic suicide attempt with 10.3% of the vote, followed closely behind by RBA’s side of Shiganshina at 8.8%.

Flashbacks were important. And eren intro was epic

Reiner standing up looking like an undead zombie after getting clobbered by Annie and then stating "Reiner is dead...I will be Marcel" was just...Wow. Just loved seeing the wall breach from RBA's perspective. Reiner gains more dimensions and complexity with each episode and I'm here for it! Bless MAPPA :-)

WE GOT THE FULL ED LAST WEEK. AFTER SEEING IT IN ITS ENTIRETY, HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT IT NOW? 66 Responses

Although just over 59% of responses gave the ED a decidedly positive grade (with praise going towards both imagery and the song), almost 20% of responses simply thought it was “okay”. A relatively equal amount of responses alternated between liking the animation and disliking the song and vice versa. Only a few seemed to dislike both. 

Didn't watch/care

ON A SCALE OF 1 TO 5, HOW MUCH DID YOU ENJOY THE SEQUENCE INTRODUCING ALL OF MARLEY’S TITANS? 67 Responses

The sequence introducing all of Marley’s Titans has gotten rave reviews, with 97% of responses rating it positively. Truth be told, I’d given it a 5 myself, if I could… But I can’t, I’m just a mysterious voice, detailing the results of this poll.

OUT OF ALL THE TITANS THE MARLEY MILITARY HAD 9 YEARS AGO, WHICH ONE WOULD YOU WANT TO HAVE? 67 Responses

For the question regarding possible inheritance of the Titans, we’ve gotten a rather colorful pie chart! Annie’s Female Titan is clearly leading with just under a third of those who took the poll picking it out as their favorite option. Reiner’s Armored is taking second place with almost 21%, followed by Zeke’s Beast at almost 18%. Bertholdt’s Colossal and the Series Mascot is, surprisingly, at just under 12%, with Pieck, unsurprisingly, bringing up the rear.

WHICH OG WARRIOR CANDIDATE WOULD YOU WANT TO ADOPT? 64 Responses

When it comes to possibly adopting a warrior candidate, we’ve gotten even more pie flavors! Reiner is at number one with just over 20%, with Pieck and Annie going into second place, both with just under 19%. Bertholdt’s in third place, with a little over 14%. Marcel and Zeke bring up the rear and it seems like no one wants to adopt poor little Porco. Just over 20% seem to not want to participate in this little scheme for various reasons.

A LOT OF THE SHIGANSHINA BREACH HAS REUSED QIT ANIMATION FROM PAST EPISODE - THOUGHTS? 67 Responses

When it came to the fact that a lot of the Shiganshina Breach Animation was reused for the episode, most seemed to respond either positively or indifferently. Just over 58% thought just that the old animation flowed decently with MAPPA’s new style, while 16.4% didn’t really care. Almost 12% expressed nostalgia for WIT’s style of animation and 9% noted that while they weren’t fans of this move, they understood the reason for it. Whoever was left noted that they either really preferred MAPPA’s new style or really didn’t like this move from MAPPA, as a whole.

KAJI YUKI HAS LOWERED HIS VOICE A BIT TO DEPICT AN OLDER EREN. THOUGHTS? 67 Responses

A bit of a lopsided result for this one. 71.6% of all responses noted that they enjoyed Yuki Kaji’s move of lowering his voice to depict an older Eren. 16.4% states that they didn’t care and the rest either expressed further “enthusiasm” for this move with one person noting that they preferred younger Eren’s voice range. 

:c

I didn’t even notice

WE’VE LOST COUNT ON HOW MANY TIMES WE’VE SEEN MARCEL GET EATEN. BUT OF THE OPTIONS BELOW, WHO DID IT BEST? 67 Responses

When it came to seeing Marcel biting the dust numerous times, it turned out that we have plenty of options and styles to choose from. 37.3% said that they preferred MAPPA’s depiction of the event, with just under a third preferring Isayama’s newer depiction. Bringing up the rear with 22.4% were those who preferred WIT’s depiction and 7.5% who like Isayama’s older depiction the best.

DO YOU THINK THAT REINER WAS CORRECT, THAT MARLEY WOULD HAVE HAD ALL OF RBA EATEN IF THEY HAD FOUND YMIR AND RETURNED HOME IMMEDIATELY? 65 Responses

In what is perhaps the most divisive question of the poll, it would seem like those who thought Marley wouldn’t have had all of RBA eaten if they had found Ymir and returned home immediately came out on top, with almost 57% arguing they would have either threatened the kids before keeping them around or became understanding from the get-go. 43.1% dissented and thought Marley would have, in fact, done so. 

Don't think so because we only saw 1 other warrior candidate and when the warriors failed in the Shinganshina arc they didn't pass on Reiner or Zeke's powers.

Marley = maybe. Zeke = would have been understanding

Maybe just eat Ymir

WHAT’S THE FORECAST FOR TONIGHT? 66 Responses

For the question about tonight’s (or rather, the night when the fanbase took the poll) weather, we’ve received a multitude of responses. From the most popular to the least, we’ve had people predicting a cloudy night, a snowy night, clear skies, a rainy night and finally, a stormy night. On the other hand, just over 18% didn’t seem to care. 

Call if hail at you’ll be late for muster

freckled Jesus getting crucified, RIP Marco

Fuckkkkk Berttttt

Hangman

it's gonna rain titans

Meh, don't care about Bertolt

REINER GRADUATED 2ND FROM THE TOP IN THE 104TH, BUT DID YOU EXPECT HIM TO BE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SELECTED WARRIOR CANDIDATES? 65 Responses

Reiner’s surprisingly poor performance during his years as a Warrior candidate surprised most of those who took our poll, with 40% expressing just that. Almost 37% thought this development made him more relatable as a character, with the rest either noting that they either didn’t care or that this portrayed the 104th in a somewhat poorer light (lol). 

I feel like his traumatic experience of watching someone he grew up with die and his resolve to become more reliable and strong pushed him to reach the point that he did considering he also outranked both Annie and Bertolt.

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THE FACT THAT REINER IS HALF-MARLEYAN? 66 Responses

When it came to the fact that Reiner turned out to be half-Marleyan, almost 38% thought the said fact gave more depth to Reiner’s character. Just over 24% thought it made him even more tragic and 18.2% hope that said detail will have more significance in the future. The rest stated that they didn’t care. 

I think it's sad for Reiner, but a nice twist. I was wondering what happens to half Eldian/Marleyans so it was nice to see the result from a more cultural and political standpoint.

GALLIARD’S FIRST NAME IS ACTUALLY “PORCO.” THOUGHTS? 66 Responses

For the reveal of Galliard’s first name actually being “Porco”, we’ve had 45.5% of responses understanding why the big man himself decided to go by his last name instead. 13.6% asked what Isayama was thinking when giving him that name. The rest either expressed further sympathy for the boy or thought it was a decent name for character. 

I can't stop thinking of him as Porky Pig now. He had such a cool surname too xD

DO YOU THINK THAT THE RIFT BETWEEN REINER AND PORCO CAN BE RESOLVED? 66 Responses

When it came to deciphering the rift between Reiner and Porco, a bit over 40% thought that the rift would never be able to “go away”, with Porco disliking Reiner for various reasons. Almost a third dissented and thought that it would be possible, provided Porco either learned of Marcel’s actions or kept working with Reiner for longer periods of time. The rest weren’t sure exactly. 

It seemed like the rift wasn't really prominent in episode 2, so maybe it's already resolved.

IN THAT SAME VEIN, DO YOU BELIEVE PORCO’S COLD FEELINGS TOWARD REINER ARE UNDERSTANDABLE AND/OR JUSTIFIED? REMEMBER: HE DOESN’T KNOW ABOUT MARCEL’S ACTIONS. 65 Responses

When it came to a similar question, most (67.7%) thought Porco’s cold feelings towards Reiner were understandable, but not justified. 20% thought they were, in fact, both understandable and justifiable. 10.8% thought they were neither and there was one sole person who stated that they didn’t care.

REINER AND ANNIE WERE REALLY ROUGH ON EACH OTHER. WHAT DID YOU THINK OF THAT? 66 Responses

Reiner seems to have even poorer relations with Annie and this episode surely confirms it. Almost 50% were surprised to find out just how poor said relations were. A third stated that they believed the two still cared about each other, just well, “deep down”. A little over 15% predicted this hatred, on the other hand. 

Annie went full "Levi on Eren" on Reiner. I knew they had a tense relationship, this just confirmed my suspicions. I don't think they hate each other.

HOW DID YOU FEEL GETTING TO SEE MORE BERTOLT AFTER HIS UNTIMELY DEATH LAST SEASON? 66 Responses

Seeing Bertolt again in the story was generally treated positively by most, with almost 44% stating that they enjoyed his extra screen time. A bit over 20% stated that they really missed him and were sad to see him, knowing what happens in the future. On the other hand, a little over 21% openly expressed their dislike for the character. Just over 12% simply stated that they didn’t care. 

Dude had it rough, at least the suffering is over now.

i barely care about him... he's just there. he adds nothing to the show compared to other warriors. his personality is way too boring and bland. 

This doesn't make me sympathize with him in any way shape or form

I'm so glad to see Bertholdt... Mappa did him cute as a kid and hot all grown up.

ANNIE AND KENNY: WHAT DID YOU THINK OF THIS UNLIKELY ENCOUNTER? 66 Responses

When it came to seeing Kenny and Annie’s unlikely encounter, the responses were rather distinctive. A little under a third thought it was random, but enjoyable. Others stated that they were just happy to see more Kenny or Annie. Some noted that Annie’s survival rate when taking on the Ackermans is impressive. Finally, just under 11% noted that they didn’t care for it. 

I thought they did it as fan-service bc Kenny = popular

It was a bit too short to be impactful in my opinion.

I wish we saw more Kenny

WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS AFTER LEARNING THAT REINER IS THE ONE WHO PUSHED FOR THE ASSAULT ON WALL ROSE AFTER TRAINING WITH THE 104TH FOR 3 YEARS? 66 Responses

Upon learning about Reiner’s push for attacking Wall Rose after 3 years of living with the 104th, the fanbase came out to be rather divided. Whereas a bit over a half expressed at least some sympathy for him, the rest were sharp in their critique. A few stated that they didn’t care, however.

HOW DID YOU FEEL SEEING REINER ON THE EDGE OF SUICIDE? 66 Responses

Seeing Reiner on the verge of suicide brought out a lot of sympathy for the man himself, with people expressing degrees of sympathy for him. A little under a third simply noted that this is a dark story. However, a few also stated that they didn’t feel much sympathy for him due to his previous actions. 

besides the fact that this whole episode was dark, this particular scene made the episode more and more uncomfortable and depressing :( can someone please hug him and tell him that everything is gonna be fine?

WHAT WAS YOUR REACTION TO THE REVEAL THAT EREN WAS THE AMPUTEE SOLDIER FROM THE LAST EPISODE? 66 Responses

The reveal that Eren was the amputee soldier from the previous episode is another one of this series’ twists and turns. Sadly, a third of the responses had already been spoiled about it. On the other hand, another third or so seemed to have an inkling and were happy to see a confirmation in this one. Just over 21% were simply in shock. 

I knew from his voice 

He's learnt to control his regeneration o.0 I wonder what else he has learnt. Also guessed last episode.

EREN OBSERVES THAT FALCO MAY BE TRYING TO PROTECT “A GIRL” FROM INHERITING THE ARMOR - IMPLYING FALCO MAY HAVE FEELINGS FOR GABI. WHAT DO YOU MAKE OF THAT? 66 Responses

When it came to Love Doctor Eren Yeager, more than 50% thought that this development showed his maturation over the course of the story (and 4 years, specifically). Some thought that it didn’t really mean anything, while others looked to a bit more romantic answer. Finally, some thought he was being influenced by the memories of his father or his father’s Attack Titan predecessor.

Don't know if Eren was implying that or if he was trying to gain intel.

BE HONEST - DOES EREN WORK THE HOBO LOOK? 66 Responses

When it came down to seeing Eren’s new design, the majority actually seemed to be more interested in seeing his “manbun” one, as seen in the trailer. Almost 20% thought it was his coolest design to date! The rest either seemed to prefer one of his earlier designs or thought that he looked kinda gross. And some people were just thirsty. 

Cool change. Doesn't look "better", but does make him look more serious/battle-scarred.

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

i was super confused at first, but after a lot more research im completely caught up w the story and very excited for whats to come!

Would've enjoyed even more REINER

Definitely ready for more. I always assumed our old team has been lurking on this side of the wall ever since ep 1 (call me crazy, but was that my mans Jean who bought the newspaper??) anywaY, I can’t wait for the reveal/ambush WhatevEr it is they got planned. You know Armin’s behind this shit. Let’s get ittttt

I need to see Levi already!! I feel like I’m going through withdrawal

The artwork was really nice, same with the animation. I thought the bit with Annie and Reiner was too intense though I felt kinda sick watching it. Also, they showed the scene in the trailer where Reiner is talking to Eren when they were in training and also when he was trying to commit suicide but the audio was different from the visual so I'm curious now if Reiner like tries to have Eren kill him but Eren and co want to interrogate him??? So he's like "why won't you let me die?". Also, I like Falco even more now, seems like a great and important character.

Seeing the Titans normally animated makes the cgi hurt more :(

it gave a lot of clarity cant lie

Reiner's backstory with his dad broke my heart. I thought he took it well. For Marcel to die afterwards and the warriors to be pushed down that path was terrible. I also love how Annie was really against attacking the Eldians, and voiced her disgust, and it felt organic. It didn't feel like it was forced in to show viewer thoughts. The episode made me appreciate Annie's maturity from a young age and emotional depth, and the fact that this was achieved with Reiner as the main focus makes it amore impressive.

mappa > wit. no doubt. the cinematography was a m a z i n g. it was very aesthetically pleasing to watch. 

Why did the smiling titan ignore Bertholt?

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 65 Responses

Thank you again to everyone who participated! We’ll see you again after next episode. 

[gemi-fool]

a journey starts, a journey ends

jam buds week day 6: journeys end

(ao3 will be added in rb)

Steven sat in what used to be the Bubble Room, now empty. Every single corrupted Gem they’d found had been healed. Every bubble had been popped. The Gems were still working to track down some that were missing, but out of the ones they’d already found, no one was left behind.

He heard the Temple door opening, turning back to see the Gems walking in with Connie.

“We thought you’d be in here,” Garnet said simply. Connie walked over and sat beside him, the Gems following suit.

“You got all of them,” Connie smiled. “All of the corruptions you and the Gems found, you healed them! All of them!”

Steven smiled, nodding. “We got all of them.”

“We should celebrate,” Pearl said. “You should celebrate, Steven. If it weren’t for you, stars, who knows if this ever would’ve happened!”

“C’mon, man!” Amethyst said. “We can order pizza! Or cake! Or anything!”

“And my parents said I can stay the night,” Connie said.

Steven thought for a second. “Yeah. Yeah! We should celebrate!” He stood. “An actual celebration for the start of Era 3!”

Connie and the Gems stood beside him.

“I’ll order the pizza,” Garnet said.

They headed out of the Bubble Room, into the beach house (which the B-Team was going to help rebuild), and outside into-

Steven stared, before a smile slowly formed on his face.

Healed Gems stood along the beach, all talking amongst themselves before they noticed Steven and the others watching.

Then it was a sea of Gems shouting Steven’s name, shouting thank yous, shouting praises.

One journey was over.

---

Steven was standing across from the Diamond’s thrones in the ballroom.

“Gems deserve a say in how they’re ruled,” he stated. “The Diamond Authority-- well, it isn’t that? Gems should be able to vote on who their leader is, and they should get to have other choices than the Diamonds.”

White stared down at him. Steven still wasn’t used to it. He was barely 15, he still looked like a little kid, but he’d stepped up to do what he did best: fix things. This was just on a larger scale.

“Pi-- Steven,” she said. (At least he hadn’t had to correct her this time.) “This is how our society has worked for thousands of years! Is changing it now really necessary?”

“Yes!” Steven said. “Yes it is! Because things are already changing!” He took a deep breath. “Gems have free will. If you’re going to give them more freedom-- they deserve freedom to choose, too.”

“She does have a point, White,” Blue said.

“He,” Steven corrected.

“He does have a point. Sorry, Steven.”

“He does, but… How would we even set that up?” Yellow asked.

“Well, Dad tried explaining it to me when I was younger, and it was kind of confusing? But the way it works on Earth-- or, in America, at least, is basically, each state has a certain amount of votes? Everyone votes, and then whatever the majority voted for is what they vote for, and whatever or whoever gets the most votes wins or… something like that.” Steven shrugged. “But it doesn’t have to be that? It can just be majority of everyone.”

Yellow nodded slowly. “I see.”

“But I just don’t understand how any Gem would be better at running the Empire than us!” White said. “We’ve been doing it since the Empire began.”

“I could probably think of a few better candidates,” Steven mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing-- They can learn. The foundation’s already there, I mean-- Gems with any political experience can probably work with it.”

Steven’s phone beeped. He pulled it out of his pocket-- he was supposed to head back to Beach City soon.

“Aw, crap. I have to go.”

“Steven, we’ll talk to White,” Yellow said. “Your body needs food and rest. Go get it. We can sort this out ourselves.”

Blue nodded. “I like this voting idea. Thank you for showing it to us, Steven.”

Steven nodded. He stepped onto the warp pad, warping back home. He walked into his room and down the stairs, finding Connie sitting on the couch.

She looked up at the sound of his footsteps. “Hey, Steven! How’d it go?”

He sighed, sitting on the couch and slumping down it, ending up with most of his body not even on the couch. “It was tiring,” he said, before sitting himself back up. “But Blue and Yellow liked the voting thing.”

“So the Empire is going to become a democracy?”

“Hopefully! White wasn’t really into the idea,” he said. “She still thinks they’re the only ones really fit to run the Empire.”

Connie nodded. “Yeah, I’m not really surprised.”

“So…” Steven said. “Where do you want to go for dinner?”

“Well, I know you like Fish Stew Pizza,” Connie replied.

“Yeah, but we can go anywhere! We just have to call Lion!”

“Hm… Well, there’s a new burger place in Ocean Town?”

“Yeah! That sounds great!” Steven near-shouted. “Hold on, let me call Lion.”

Steven found out the next day that White had been convinced. They were going to instate democracy.

Another journey was over.

---

Steven patted Lion awake.

“C’mon, bud, I promised Connie we could hang out at her place,” he whined. “C’mon, get up!”

Lion yawned, grumbling a bit, but stood up. Steven hopped on his back. He roared a portal into existence, and next thing Steven knew they were outside of Connie’s house.

He walked up to the door and knocked.

“Coming!” he heard Connie yell.

She opened the door, and paused for a second, staring.

“Steven! You-- you grew!”

“Yeah!” Steven said. “And it’s not forced this time! I grew!”

“You do age,” she said with a smile, stepping out in front of him. “Aw, come on, you’re taller than me!”

Another answer.

Another journey was over.

---

Steven looked up at the hill behind the Temple from the beach. The grass and flowers had finally regrown.

He walked through the town, stopping for bits from Beach Citywalk Fries. The town had been repaired.

He could see Little Homeworld from here. They were almost done building it, including fixing the damage from Spinel.

Connie had gotten to go to space camp, in the end. After Spinel left.

Spinel was in Homeworld, with the Diamonds. She could heal. She was safe.

Another journey was over.

---

Steven laid on the top of his car, staring up at space above him. Sadie and Shep’s song played from his car radio. No one else was around.

He wondered if Lars and the Off-Colors were in the section of space he could see right now.

Everyone was leaving, it felt like. He hated people leaving. He hated saying goodbye. He was all about change but-- this was a kind of change he didn’t like.

He had quit Little Homeschool to avoid graduations. To avoid this.

He went to text Connie.

Another journey was over.

---

Steven was so used to saying, pretending, and thinking nothing was wrong.

Adverse childhood experiences. Childhood trauma. Dr. Maheswaren telling him all of this. Connie saying that them being there was making things worse.

Something was wrong. He couldn’t think that it wasn’t anymore.

Another journey was over.

---

Steven wasn’t sure how long he’d spent sobbing into Lion’s mane, but eventually the Cluster had put everyone back down on shore, gave a thumbs-up, and had gone back into its bubble. The Diamonds and Spinel had left. Steven had gone inside, thought about taking a shower, then thought about the shards and the diamond essences and my diamond and decided not to, and got dressed. Bismuth and Peridot went straight to work fixing the front of the house, that was him, that was his fault.

Connie sat with him in his room after he got dressed.

“Steven,” she said, softly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

He blinked back the tears that were welling up, that threatened to spill out of his eyes again, he was definitely dehydrated.

“It’s not,” he whispered.

“I know it feels like that,” she said. “But it will be, because we-- your dad, the Gems, and I-- we’re not going to let you keep doing it alone. You’re not going to go through this alone, Steven.”

And he didn’t feel like he deserved it, but he knew they would anyways. He was done travelling alone.

Another journey was over.

---

Just a little time, just a little something else instead.

Steven waved goodbye to the Gems, to Dad, to Connie teary-eyed as he drove away. The residents of Beach City held up signs, waving goodbye as he drove through the streets of the town.

Just a little time, just a little something up ahead. I’m dreaming of…

Another journey was over, but only so a new one could start.

---

Steven set down another stack of boxes, Connie carrying in two more behind him. Rings shined on each of their left hands.

He’d finally found where he wanted to settle down-- and it wasn’t too far from Beach City, in Empire, a little past Empire City.

Connie pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Alright, those are the last ones,” she said. “I’ll order takeout while you start putting things away.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to her lips (it sparkled just the tiniest bit). “Alright, babe,” he said.

His final journey was over.

[nekoannie-chan]

Snow

Pairing: Brock Rumlow X Reader.

Word count: 1124 words.

Summary: This is your first snow, so you wanna enjoy it.

Warnings: None.

A/N: This is my entry to the @bluehenley‘s Blue’s 21st birthday writing challenge with the “something I love” prompt #5:

“Playing with the snow”.

This story is based on my experience, my first snow was when I lived in Japan in 2017-2018.

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistake please let me know and I will correct it. 

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics be posted in other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and is not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

My other media where I publish: Wattpad, Ao3, ffnet.

If you like it please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tag: @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​

“A snowfall is expected from four o'clock in the afternoon, it is speculated that it will be the strongest of the last ten years,” the news anchor announced.

As soon as you heard those words, you turned to the TV and smiled

"I hope Stark has a robot to clean the track or the place," Brock said annoyed.

"Is it going to snow!?" you asked with excitement.

Before anyone could say anything, you left the living room to the dining room. 

"I don't understand why he gets so excited,” Brock murmured. 

"I’ll never understand how Y/N is in love with you, Rumlow you're a party pooper," Nat replied.  

She had come to hear your boyfriend's comment while he rolled his eyes, it was just snow, and it wasn't the big thing, it happened every year, besides you were no longer children.

"When will it start snowing?" you asked Nat excitedly.  

"He said after four o'clock in the afternoon, so be patient," she replied.  

"I can't, I need to see it now,” you said and pouted

“It’s just snow…?”

“I’ve never seen it before, it's my first time, in my country it doesn't snow," you explained.

"Have you never seen or been in the snow?" the spy questioned in disbelief.  

"No, can I make a snowman and play? “ 

"Hmm... Yes... I guess... but first you have to let enough snow accumulate," Nat replied.

"How long is it gonna take?"  

"Perhaps at night, as there is a sufficient amount."  

Nat left soon, however you didn't stop seeing out the window, the snow was starting to fall, you took out your cell phone and started recording it, and you thought it was amazing, although now you had several questions, would it have any flavor? Would the temperature be cold? Would it be difficult to walk in it?

"Babe, what are you doing?" Brock asked when he saw you in the window. 

"Recording the snow falling," you answered without looking at him.  

Brock sighed, he couldn't understand the emotion that caused you, if it was normal.

"Why are you recording it? It’s something normal, you look like a little girl," Brock complained. 

 "In my country, it doesn't snow, it's the first time I've seen it," you clarified.

Brock was stunned, he knew you weren't from the United States, you'd joined the team two years ago, and however, the two winters you hadn't been in the country. 

"So it's the first time you've seen snow," he said to himself.  

You ignored the comment and kept recording, Brock kept thinking for a few minutes, 

"Do you wanna make a snowman later?" he proposed. 

 "Really!?" you asked excitedly.  

You stopped recording, you separated from the window, you went to where he was and you hugged him

“Yeah, yeah.”

"Brock, you know you're not fooling me with that bad boy facade,” you whispered with your face against his chest.  

"You know it will cost you," he seductively mentioned.

You laughed softly, you didn't care, in the end, you were going to have fun paying for it, too. By nine o'clock at night everything was completely covered in snow, you were ready to go out when Brock saw you.  

"Where are you going?" your boyfriend questioned you.  

"To play in the snow."  

"You can't go out like this without covering yourself up, you're going to get sick," he scolded you as he took your arm to stop you.  

"But..." 

"No ‘buts’ missy or you don't go out."

Brock let you go, he went to the coat rack near the door, you winced, within a few seconds, he came back with a snow jacket, gloves, scarf, and boots for both you and him. 

"We're going to need them," he said with a smile as he gave you the clothes. 

He helped you put on your jacket and scarf, you took it by your hand and they came out, you were practically going as fast as you could, the moment came when you let it go and started spinning as you raised your face to feel the snow, you decided to try a flake... although it had no taste, then you tried to run, but it was difficult, you hadn't even noticed that there was a part where the snow wasn't firm and you fell, Brock hastened to see if you were, he found you lying there laughing.

“If you lie down, extend your arms and then move them up and down, you can make an angel," your boyfriend suggested.  

You looked at him a little skeptical, however, you laid down and did what he had told you, for a moment you felt a little silly, then he extended his arm and took your hand to help you up, you left it and once you were already standing you turned to see the figure you had made, in the end, he had been right if it was the angel’s silhouette. 

After a while, they started gathering the snowballs to make the snowman, for a moment you thought that the cold would seep through the gloves, but it wasn't, although if you felt the cold on your face even though it wasn't annoying, Brock took some branches of a tree that had fallen off from the weight of the snow.

The snowballs you did were huge, you had tried to climb on each other without success, and it was very heavy. 

Brock approached and accommodated them, then gave you the branches and a carrot to place on the snowman’s face, after which you admired the finished snowman. 

"Do you want a picture with the snowman?" asked Brock.  

You jumped in and stood next to the snowman, Brock took several pictures, you crouched down and formed a little snowball without him noticing, you got up and threw it at him, and the snowball fell exactly into his face.

"What the fuck!" Brock exclaimed surprised.  

You dropped a naughty giggle and threw another one at him.  

"Ah... so you want to play, " Brock mumbled.   

Now he was the one who threw a snowball at you, which you didn't expect, following snowballs throwing at each other while running, sometimes trying to hide, you kept laughing until almost a bike passing through the place runs you over. 

"Careful idiot!" yelled Brock at him as he got you out of the way.

"Isn't it dangerous to go on a bicycle with all this snow?" you questioned.  

You just finished the question when you saw the bike boy fall off the slippery floor, laughed, and continued your snowball fight until Brock tackled you by throwing you on the snow-filled floor.

“I won!” he said jubilantly.

“Thanks.”

“Why?”

“For everything, I love you, Brock.”

“I love you more.”

He kissed you.

[whitehotharlots]

No one is gonna “gaslight” you about the pandemic. They don’t need to

I took a break from my daylong panic attack to read through a piece that I saw dozens of people sharing on social media. If you’re in the mood to take a glimpse into the abyss of hopelessness, give it a read. 

This is one of the dumbest things I have ever read, but it’s instructive in the sense that it shows us just how absolutely liberalism is not prepared to handle the current moment. If this is the intellectual vanguard of the #Resistance (and judging by those who have shared it, it seems to be), then we should begin mentally preparing ourselves not just for Trump’s reelection but for the very real possibility that he’s just going to be president forever. 

The piece is called “Prepare for the Ultimate Gaslighting,” so right away you know where it’s coming from. “Gaslighting,” has recently surpassed “mansplaining” as the liberal buzzterm that’s become the most meaningless due to overuse. It used to refer specifically to emotional manipulation. Now it basically means “anything that a liberal doesn’t like.” Liberals read a neurotic amount of importance into petty matters of taste and interpersonal relations. They begin, at times, to understand social problems in a structural sense, but they always--always--turn their analysis back to meaningless bullshit that takes place on an individual level. The liberal would never be so gauche as to indict an entire system, no matter how at fault it may obviously be. Instead, he will place blame upon the individuals within the system, those selfish and savage brutes who betrayed the magnanimous intentions of society’s elite engineers. 

This author’s analysis is unsurprisingly very muddy. He mentions, correctly, that there is an eerie serenity to scenes of American cityscapes already being reclaimed by nature. He cannot, however, decide whether or not this is a good thing. This is because of the liberal’s fundamental ambivalence toward malignant social structures. Their ethos is founded on pretending to sympathize with society’s misbegotten, but their status and jobs and personal standing demand that they also apologize profusely for the institutions that reap so much misery upon us. This neurosis is somewhat politically viable only because it usually goes unspoken--and that’s why this piece is worth digging into, since it’s so rare to see them attempt to actually articulate this shit.

The author realizes that our society is deeply poisoned. In a twist, he says that such a sad state is not due to any of the litany of usual, intersectional reasons, but because of the pace at which our social lives are conducted. I am dead serious:

The cat is out of the bag. We, as a nation, have deeply disturbing problems. You’re right. That’s not news. They are problems we ignore every day, not because we’re terrible people or because we don’t care about fixing them, but because we don’t have time. Sorry, we have other shit to do. The plain truth is that no matter our ethnicity, religion, gender, political party (the list goes on), nor even our socioeconomic status, as Americans we share this: We are busy. We’re out and about hustling to make our own lives work. We have goals to meet and meetings to attend and mortgages to pay — all while the phone is ringing and the laptop is pinging.

The problem is, see, that we’re thinking about stuff wrong. Not that the ruling elite are openly corrupt or anything. Oh no. I mean, they must be since they’re about to gaslight us, but also they’re not, they’re basically okay:

The greatest misconception among us, which causes deep and painful social and political tension every day in this country, is that we somehow don’t care about each other. White people don’t care about the problems of black America. Men don’t care about women’s rights. Cops don’t care about the communities they serve. Humans don’t care about the environment. These couldn’t be further from the truth. We do care. We just don’t have the time to do anything about it. Maybe that’s just me. But maybe it’s you, too.

Again, he’s coming to the precipice of a worthwhile realization--that we all know society is unsustainable but we can’t do anything about it--but he has to pull back so as to avoid implicating any of the people who actually wield power. That’s the main thrust of contemporary liberalism: sure, society may be fucked, but that’s your fault, not ours.

The ending is a tour de force of empty liberal platitudes that is breathtaking in its ability to place blame upon anyone and anything aside from the people and things that are actually to blame:

From one citizen to another, I beg of you: take a deep breath, ignore the deafening noise, and think deeply about what you want to put back into your life. This is our chance to define a new version of normal, a rare and truly sacred (yes, sacred) opportunity to get rid of the bullshit and to only bring back what works for us, what makes our lives richer, what makes our kids happier, what makes us truly proud. [ … ]

We can do that on a personal scale in our homes, in how we choose to spend our family time on nights and weekends, what we watch, what we listen to, what we eat, and what we choose to spend our dollars on and where. We can do it locally in our communities, in what organizations we support, what truths we tell, and what events we attend. And we can do it nationally in our government, in which leaders we vote in and to whom we give power. If we want cleaner air, we can make it happen. If we want to protect our doctors and nurses from the next virus — and protect all Americans — we can make it happen. If we want our neighbors and friends to earn a dignified income, we can make that happen. If we want millions of kids to be able to eat if suddenly their school is closed, we can make that happen. And, yes, if we just want to live a simpler life, we can make that happen, too. But only if we resist the massive gaslighting that is about to come. It’s on its way. Look out.

Just… dear god. Dear god. 

We are not facing a crisis of conscientiousness. We are not suffering through mass existential dread because we weren’t mindful enough or didn’t make the right consumer choices or didn’t, like, live in the moment, man. We are staring down the absolute end stage of global capitalism and the complete abandonment of all the pretenses associated with liberal democracy. We are at the start of a very different and much worse stage of existence.

This is why the piece’s central conceit, gaslighting, is so fucking annoying. Because if we’ve learned nothing else from the past 12 years (and apparently we haven’t), it’s that the ruling elite do not need to bother establishing pretense any longer. No one thought the recent Corona bailout was anything other than an upward transfer of wealth and a complete abandonment of the wretched--no one even bothered to argue otherwise, because they knew they didn’t need to. At least a half dozen US senators received advance notice of the pandemic’s severity, and instead of warning people or otherwise working to help their constituents, they sold off stock and kept mum. None of them have received any formal censure, as their behavior was absolutely within the realm of what is acceptable in 2020. Andrew Cuomo, the man presently being lauded as the firm and competent opposite of Trump, used the pandemic as a pretense to push through cuts to social services and renege on bail reform that was past just weeks ago--undoing the last vestiges of progressivism both old and new. Even bleaker: an EU member state is now being ruled by dictatorial fiat under the pretense of the virus, and everyone’s just kind of rolling with it. I mean, really, what’s gonna happen? Brussels gonna step in? NATO gonna invade? Pfft… Not for such a trifling matter as the abandonment of democracy. If they missed a debt payment, on the other hand…

The point is, you’re not going to get gaslit because there’s no need for that any longer. The people who are profiting off of the collapse and destruction of society don’t even have to bother to lie about it. And the only ones doing any gaslighting are the smug liberal twerps who are too scared of upsetting their boss to allow anyone to point out this fact.

[darks-ink]

The Visit

As voted on for my 250 followers celebration, a sequel to Fangs!

Rating: K+ / Gen Warnings: Referenced character death; but it’s ok because it happened 15 years prior to canon (and the fic) and also they became a ghost and are totally fine with how things are now. Genre: Friendship/Family Words: 5,646 Relationships: Danny Fenton & Tucker Foley & Sam Manson (platonic) Additional Tags: Developing Friendships, Alternate Universe, Referenced character death, One shot, Fluff

[AO3] [FFN]

---

FentonWorks loomed over the rest of the buildings on the street, a mishmash of building and metal, topped off by the glaring neon sign. Tucker knew very little about the Fentons, besides what everyone said of them.

They’d been crazy about ghosts. Jack Fenton always was, beyond all sensibilities, and his wife had been the only restraint he’d ever known. After she died… It didn’t get any better, apparently. Tucker wouldn’t know, to be honest. It was before his time, Maddie’s death.

But that was why he was here, wasn’t it? Because he’d met Danny Fenton; a kid no one even knew existed. A kid that was, apparently, half-ghost. Born of his human father and his ghost mother.

Crazy. Absolutely crazy. There was no way it was real. Ghosts weren’t even real, never mind ghost-human hybrids. Tucker just had to go in, like he’d been invited to, and find absolutely no evidence otherwise. Which would be easy, because there wouldn’t be proof. Couldn’t be proof, because ghosts, of course, weren’t real.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and he definitely did not scream.

“What are we waiting for?” Sam asked, a grin clearly audible in her voice. “Scared, Tucker?”

He snorted dismissively, shrugging her hand off of his shoulder. “No. If it matters, I was waiting for you. So we could, y’know, go in together.”

“Oh, of course you were.” She grinned, knowingly. “Well, if that’s the case, we can go in, yes?”

“Uh,” he stammered, before straightening out. “I mean, yeah, of course. Let’s go get proof that ghosts aren’t real after all.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Whatever makes you feel better, Tuck.”

Together they crossed the street, hopped up the stairs to the door. He paused, hesitated for just the briefest moment, but Sam reached past him and rung the doorbell.

“Don’t run off now,” she chastised. Stepped back a little so she could stop him if he tried to run. “This is the make-or-break moment. Either you’re gonna find real proof of ghosts, or you won’t.”

“I’m not scared.” He tried to sound braver than he felt. He didn’t think he succeeded.

Sure, he didn’t believe in ghosts, but that didn’t mean he had to like what was happening here. He’d seen enough horror movies to be wary of this sort of stuff. Tucker Foley was no fool.

The door opened—not creaky, not silently, but with an ordinary amount of noise—and he jerked back to the moment. Danny stood in the opening, blinking at them for a short moment. Then he grinned, wide and bright. His eyes, the odd blue interlaced with almost unnaturally bright green, scrunched up in clear happiness.

“Sam, Tucker! I’m so glad you came by!” He stepped aside to let them in, and Tucker automatically entered. Sam followed right behind him, blocking the only exit. “I wasn’t sure if you, y’know, would come.”

“Of course we came.” Sam smiled back at Danny, nudging Tucker meaningfully. “We said we would, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, well, people say things all the time, don’t they?” Still, Danny’s smile didn’t falter. “Come on, my parents are down in the lab. You wanted to meet them, right?”

“Uh huh,” Tucker answered automatically. “Is there, uh. Anything we should keep in mind?”

Danny stopped to raise an eyebrow in his direction. “I mean, I don’t think so. Why? What were you thinking off?”

“Like, I don’t know.” Tucker shrugged somewhat aggravatedly. “Topics to avoid? Things you shouldn’t ask ghosts about, or whatever?”

“Oh.” The other boy put on a thoughtful expression, one finger tapping on his cheek. Tucker realized Danny had freckles—pale and tinged almost green, but there nonetheless. “Not really? Just, y’know, be tactful. It kind of differs per ghost, but Mom’s pretty chill about most stuff.”

Well, that was good to know. This way Tucker hopefully wouldn’t end up with an enraged ghost on his tail.

“Just making sure.” Tucker shrugged, trying not to look as tense as he felt. “Better safe than sorry, and all that.”

Danny hummed and continued walking, leading them into what appeared to be the living room. A large and comfortable-looking sofa sat along the wall, with two matching armchairs finishing the circle. A moderately nice TV sat on the other end.

“I guess that that’s fair,” he said, bypassing the couch for another open doorway. “You might want to be careful with some of the other ghosts, but you’ll be fine around my parents. Promise.”

“So you’ll introduce us to other ghosts as well?” Sam cut in, looking far too excited at the prospect. “Like some of the others you’ve mentioned? Ember, Kitty, those guys?”

“Maybe later.” Danny paused in the doorway, allowing Tucker to look past him. Ah, the kitchen? He thought they were going to the lab? “I don’t think it would be a good idea to bring you guys into the Zone so soon.”

“They never come here?” Sam continued to prod, even when Tucker nudged her to please stop talking. “You only ever see them while you’re there?”

“Nah, they come over all the time.” Danny continued walking again, crossing the kitchen towards one of the doors set in the walls that Tucker had assumed to be a storage closet. “But they haven’t mentioned coming over today, so.”

Sam followed Danny to the not-closet, and Tucker begrudgingly followed.

“That’s a shame. They sound like fun.”

“They are!” Danny shot them another brilliant smile, then threw open the door. Behind it laid a staircase leading down, the entire thing—and the walls and ceiling around it—plated in metal. That was… worrying. “They’re my friends, after all. Maybe another time, though.”

He started down the stairs, his shoes scuffing against the steel plating. The sound echoed dully in the room below them.

Why did the lab have to be in the basement, huh? Why couldn’t it be in that huge metal construction on top of the house?

Wait.

What was that enormous construction, if not the lab?

Tucker considered asking, but… maybe not. Maybe, in this case, he was better off not knowing.

Sam shoved him, and he almost fell down the stairs.

Right. Focus on the moment, Foley.

He shot her a venomous glare anyway, then set down the stairs. They really weren’t anything impressive; before Tucker knew it, he was down in the lab itself.

The room was enormous and, much like the stairs, made entirely out of metal. Shelves sprawled all along the walls, bar the wall furthest from the stairs. That one was suspiciously empty, with a complicated machine set next to large yellow-and-black blast doors.

Much of the floor space was similarly taken up by metal tables, covered in all sorts of gadgetry. Inventions of all kinds imaginable—and several not imaginable—covered their surfaces, in various states of assembly.

It was almost enough to distract Tucker from the fear he felt, somewhere deep inside him. Fear that had rared its head, suddenly, pointing Tucker straight towards Danny’s parents.

Not that they would’ve been easy to miss, anyway. Jack Fenton was, true to stories, an absolutely massive human being. Large in every meaning of the word, and clad in a bright orange jumpsuit.

Next to him was the real source of Tucker’s sudden paralyzing fear. A woman in a matching jumpsuit, smaller than Jack but making up the size difference by floating next to him. Her body seemed to glow, even under the harsh lights of the lab.

“Wow,” Sam breathed, having apparently joined Tucker in the lab. “Damn, Danny, what a space!”

Her voice was enough to startle the adult Fentons back to the present, as both twisted in their direction. Maddie’s—because the ghost had to be Maddie Fenton—eyes seemed to lock straight onto Tucker’s, like she could feel his fear. Hell, who knew! Maybe she could!

“Danny-boy!” Jack Fenton boomed, grinning widely at the three of them. Tucker could definitely see the family resemblance in that smile. “Who are your friends, kiddo?”

Danny started leading the two of them towards his parents, apparently choosing to ignore the unblinking stare of his mom. “These are Sam and Tucker. I mentioned them earlier, didn’t I?”

“The kids you met at school,” Maddie stated, cocking her head at Sam and Tucker. She’d looked almost human from far, but as they got closer, Tucker found more and more details that were… off, for the lack of a better word. Her brown hair, for example, was laced through with white. But it wasn’t just singular hairs, like when people went gray; the base of every single hair was white, shifting back to brown the further away from her skin they were. And her eyes, which he thought were hazel, were actually literally golden in color. Glowed, even, casting a yellowish tinge on the rest of her face.

“That’s us!” Sam cheerfully exclaimed, grinning up at the ghost. “And you’re Mrs. Fenton, right? Danny’s mom?”

Maddie stared at them for a brief moment, like she was scouring their souls for… for something. Then she smiled, soft and kind and warm and decidedly mom-like. “That’s me. And this is my husband, Jack.” She gestured over at him, like they could’ve possibly missed the man.

“Nice to meet you.” Tucker inclined his head, first towards her, then Jack. Now what?

Sam took mercy on him, leaning herself against his side. “Yeah, what he said. You two seemed like really cool parents, based on the stuff Danny’s mentioned so far.”

“Is that so?” Maddie stopped hovering besides Jack, instead floating closer to them. She drew her legs together, and they blurred into— into some sort of spectral tail. It curled languidly, the end twitching almost like a cat’s tail would. “Only good things, I hope?”

“Of course,” Tucker answered, hesitantly grinning. This was familiar territory—assuring overbearing parents that their kid wasn’t doing anything wrong. “He’s not gonna stop loving his parents just because y’all let him leave the house, you know?”

“Of course he isn’t!” Jack boomed once more, slinging a massive arm around Danny’s shoulders. “You love us, don’t you, Danny-boy?”

“Daaaad,” the boy groaned, exasperated. Rather than try to wrestle the arm away, he—

um

Faded into translucence? And then just… went through Jack’s arm?

Color returned to Danny’s body when he was away from the arm, and he blew a raspberry at Jack.

“Damn,” Tucker swore, nudging Sam. Make a joke about it, Foley. Make it easier to deal with. “Bet you wish you could do that with your parents, huh?”

She huffed, rolling her eyes, but couldn’t hide the faint smile. “They’re not that bad, Tucker.”

“I’ll be sure to remind you next time they’re slathering you with kisses, then.”

“Ugh.” She jabbed him with an elbow. “I hate you sometimes.”

“Aw, Sam, no.” He reached for his heart, dramatically. Normally he wouldn’t let it play out this far, not in front of like, actual parents and stuff, but… they looked like they needed the normalcy. Or, well, the suggested normalcy. Honestly, they looked stunned that Sam and Tucker were having a regular scuffle instead of making a big deal out of— whatever Danny just did. “You’re killing me, man.”

Oh. Uh.

Was that a bad thing to joke about with ghosts present?

Sam glared at him, apparently thinking so. Danny snorted, though, and Maddie didn’t lash out, so. Tucker would go ahead and consider this a victory.

He cleared his throat. “So, uh. Danny mentioned you had some cool inventions, and honestly, I would love to see some of those. If, uh, you don’t mind?”

Jack brightened. “Well, why didn’t you ask before? Of course we’ll show you! What’d you want to see?”

He scrambled out of the seat before Tucker could answer, bounding over to the other side of the lab.

“Um.” Tucker watched him go, stunned. How could a man that large move that quickly? “Danny mentioned like, a hovercraft? And jetpacks, but I think you were still working on those? That sounded pretty cool.”

“Well, the Specter Speeder is right over there,” Maddie said, gesturing over to a giant heap covered in a sheet. Her expression was carefully neutral, like she was trying to figure him out. “That’s probably the hovercraft Danny described. Jack and Jazz—our daughter—use it to traverse the Ghost Zone.”

Tucker looked over at her, hovering in the air. Then over at Danny. He was still trying to find a tactful way of asking the obvious question when Sam cut him off.

“So Danny can fly, just like you?”

He shot her a disappointed look, but she ignored it, staring at Maddie.

“I can do almost everything an ordinary ghost can,” Danny answered, bouncing a little excited. Probably didn’t get to talk about it very much.

Or maybe he was just happy they believed him.

“Fly, go invisible, go intangible—like I just did. All kinds of stuff!” He grinned at them. The expression was so abundantly happy that Tucker could almost miss the sharp fang-like canines. “Just not overshadowing, but that’s fine—I don’t like that power anyway.”

“Oh?” Sam cocked her head, eyebrows drawing together. Clearly interested. “Why not?”

Surprisingly, it was Maddie who answered. “Overshadowing is much like possession—or how possession is shown in media, at least. You take over a human host, puppeteering their body, and, if done well, they won’t even know it happened. Will have no memory of what happened, or any way to know what you did.”

“Most ghosts avoid overshadowing, anyway,” Danny added, his casual tone clearly forced. “They don’t like the concept of it, of losing control over one’s body like that. So I don’t mind that I can’t do it.”

“But why not?” Tucker asked, despite himself. So sue him for getting curious, there had to be some form of science behind this, right? Ghosts couldn’t just defy all common sense! “Is there something about you being a— a hybrid that’s stopping you?”

Maddie’s eyes narrowed, and her tail swept a slow arc. It reminded Tucker of the agitated twitching of a cat’s tail, but not quite as… angry, if that made sense? To him it did, somehow.

“We think so,” she said, slowly. She kept a steady gaze on him, like she was testing him with this. Testing his… opinion on Danny’s possible half-ghost nature, maybe? That would make sense, wouldn’t it? “We think that, because Danny’s body isn’t entirely ectoplasm, but half flesh, he can’t overshadow anyone. He has more trouble with intangibility than other ghosts, too, and that’s an essential skill for overshadowing.”

“Ah.” Tucker’s mind provided him with an entirely unnecessary vision of Danny turning tangible while inside another person. “Yeah, I can imagine not wanting to risk that, especially for a power you won’t use anyway.”

Danny nodded. “Exactly. Besides, my other powers are good enough. And it’s not like I need them to fight much—most ghosts are less likely to lash out because I’m only half ghost.”

“Really?” Sam hopped up on the edge of one of the tables, sitting down on an apparently empty corner. “You’d think that they would be more likely to lash out against someone only half ghost, rather than less.”

“Well, I know how ghost society works, so I’m not really an outsider.” Danny shrugged, leaning against one of the tables. His mom had floated off towards Jack, apparently no longer interested in the conversation. Maybe they had convinced her that they really didn’t mind Danny’s hybrid-ness. “And I can fight just fine—I’m not the strongest ghost, but not the weakest either. That all helps, I think.”

Sam opened her mouth to continue asking, but a loud clunk echoed through the lab. All three of them whirled towards the noise, finding the source to be Jack Fenton. Maddie floated next to him, holding up a large metal shell of sorts. Based on the fact that Jack was rubbing his head, it must’ve fallen down on him.

Maddie clicked her tongue, then gestured at the maybe-hovercraft near them. Jack pouted but nodded, trudging back in their direction.

What a family.

“Come here, kids, I’ll show you the Specter Speeder.” Jack underlined the statement with a sweeping gesture, like they weren’t already tracking his every move.

“Coming!” Danny pushed himself away from the table, racing over to his dad. Raced to such an extent that he made to leap over one of the tables that separated them.

The boy leapt, and then just… stayed airborne.

Man. Half-ghosts, am I right? Tucker really wasn’t ready to deal with this sort of madness.

Sam jabbed an elbow in Tucker’s ribs, and he startled. Took his eyes off of the other boy. Whoops, no staring, that’s rude.

The two of them wound their way to Jack as well, ignoring the fact that Danny was still floating in the air. Were they going to have to stop him from doing that in public? Was Danny going to fly over hurdles during gym instead of actually jumping?

It was like he’d accidentally befriended a comic book superhero. Did that make Tucker the sidekick? Or was Sam the sidekick, and was he the love interest?

He sure hoped not. Superhero love interests had an awful tendency to die, and he wasn’t sure if the involvement of ghosts made that better or worse.

No point in worrying about all that, though. Danny wasn’t even really a superhero, anyway. He didn’t even fight anyone!

Yeah, let’s just dismiss that whole train of thought and focus on the invention.

“This was the hovercraft, right?” Tucker asked when he and Sam joined Jack and Danny at the covered-up machine. “The… what did you call it? Speeder?”

“The Specter Speeder!” Jack enthusiastically corrected. “And indeed! This baby can carry us powerless humans safely through the Ghost Zone. Its outside is protective with blast-proof shielding, and it’s packed with all kinds of ecto-guns!”

He patted the machine, the sound echoing dully within the vehicle. Then he realized that they couldn’t really admire it while it was covered up and, without further ado, pulled off the cloth covering it.

Honestly? It was a very impressive machine. Tucker had heard some stuff about Jack’s inventions—and he’d seen the bizarre construction on top of FentonWorks—but the Speeder was nothing like all that. It was gorgeous. All smooth paneling and shiny metal, with a cylindrical shape and a rounded window that covered the entire front of the machine. Not to mention the enormous thruster-like engine on the back.

“Wow,” Tucker breathed. “That’s… Man, what a machine, Mr. Fenton.”

“How do you get it in the Zone, though?” Sam asked, ever the skeptic. “It looks too heavy to push.”

“Why would you push it?” Danny frowned at the two of them, then at the machine, then back to them. “It can fly, that’s kind of the point.”

“Even here?” Tucker looked at the machine again. It laid flat on the ground, perfectly horizontal. He could imagine it flying in a world with altered gravity, like he imagined the Ghost Zone to be, but here? “How?”

Jack laughed, cheery and explosively loud. It was Maddie who answered, floating in closer. “Ectoplasm is a rather incredible material. The Speeder is constructed mostly out of an ectoplasmic metal, which helps it defy gravity. It also serves as a very light-weight fuel, lessening the weight.”

“It’s also very explosive, which also makes it a great fuel!” Danny added cheerfully. “It’s a great source of energy. All FentonWorks machinery works on ectoplasmic basis—it’s a great renewable energy source!”

He chuckled. “It’s literally green!”

Both of his parents groaned. Tucker had the feeling that Danny made that same joke all the time.

“But isn’t ectoplasm the stuff ghosts are made out of?” Sam’s brows drew together, tension seeping into her shoulders. Oh boy, here they went again. “Isn’t that, like… animal cruelty? How do you get it?”

“It is the stuff ghosts are made out of,” Maddie said, with a gentle smile. “But only because the entire Ghost Zone is made out of that stuff. You can take it straight from the air. Most of our ectoplasm, we get from the Portal’s filter, which stops loose ectoplasm from seeping through. Without it, the presence of our Portal would contaminate the air and soil of the Earth.”

Tucker nudged Sam. “See? Perfectly cruelty-free. No sweat, man. Do they look like they melt down sentient creatures for weaponry, huh?”

“Right.” Sam shot him a venomous look back, but dropped it almost immediately to turn back to the Fentons. “Sorry. I’m… a big supporter of animal rights, and all that.”

“She’s a super-duper vegan,” he added helpfully. “Won’t eat any animal products at all.”

Maddie nodded, an understanding expression on her face. “Of course. But, yes, no need to worry. Our ectoplasm is exclusively atmospheric. If we weren’t using it, we would just be forced to dump everything the filter collects straight back into the Zone, so we might as well use it. As an energy source, it’s great—better than solar or wind, and just as safe for nature.”

“If you know what you’re doing, at least.” Danny grinned impishly, leaning on his dad’s massive shoulders. He still hadn’t stopped hovering. “Since it’s pretty explosive, and all that.”

“Which is why I’m usually the one handling the volatile ectoplasm,” Maddie said. “Us ghosts can handle ectoplasmic attacks a lot better than humans can.”

“Ghosts can take just about anything better than humans,” Jack pointed out. “Ectoplasm is a lot tougher than flesh, and you don’t have any organs to damage.”

Maddie grinned knowingly at Jack, who pouted back.

These two were entirely too much. One was a ghost and the other human, sure, whatever. But this? Nah, man. He already didn’t like it when his own parents were being sweet to each other, he really didn’t want to watch Danny’s parents do the same thing.

He turned to address Danny. “So how does that work for you? Since you’re a hybrid, and all that?”

“Well…” Danny slipped off of his dad’s shoulders, doing a completely unnecessary flip before landing on the ground. “I’m kinda in the middle for most stuff. I’m tougher than a human, but not quite as tough as a ghost. I’ve got all the ordinary human organs, but I also have a ghost core. There’s ectoplasm in my blood and my flesh, but no part of me is fully ectoplasm—besides my core, of course.”

“Is that why you were eating that weird glowy food?” Sam raised a single eyebrow. “It contained ectoplasm, right?”

“Yeah.” Danny shrugged, leaning back against the edge of a table. “Gotta keep up the ectoplasm levels somehow. Full ghosts can just filter it out of the atmosphere, and I can do it a little, but it’s not enough. I would need more ectoplasm in my body to filter out enough to sustain myself.”

“That sucks, dude.” That sandwich hadn’t looked appealing at all.

But then, maybe to Danny’s half-ghost brain, it looked differently? The glow and color were caused by ectoplasm, weren’t they?

“Eh, it’s not the worst.” Danny shrugged again. “Better than having to take it via needle or IV, which is the alternative. Or drinking straight ectoplasm, but that’s not very good for me, either.”

“Speaking of food,” Maddie interrupted, startling the pants off of Tucker—when had she stopped talking to Jack?, “Jack and I are going to start working on dinner. Sam, Tucker, are you staying over?”

Tucker opened his mouth to refuse, but Sam was, once again, too quick.

“Of course we’ll stay,” she said, smiling up at Maddie. “I should call home to let them know, though.”

“Uh, yeah.” Tucker cleared his throat, awkwardly. “So do I.”

Maddie nodded, before moving towards the stairs. She moved through the air like there was no resistance, nothing that could stop her. Fluid and graceful. No wonder that she never landed. Tucker didn’t think he would, either, if he could fly that easily.

Danny, on the other hand, was equally graceful in the air and on the ground.

Which was not very, Tucker realized, as he watched Danny trip on a table leg.

“There’s a phone in the kitchen.” Danny grinned up at them, having caught himself on the edge of the table he’d tripped on. “Unless you want to use your cellphones, in which case you’ll still need to get out of the lab. No signal down here.”

Tucker glanced over at the metal walls, the metal ceiling.

“Of course,” he said, watching Danny push himself back into a properly standing position. “That figures.”

They picked their way back to the stairs, Sam scaling them first. Tucker was about to follow her when a hand grabbed onto his shoulder and then pulled.

He stumbled backwards, and turned to snap at Danny—

who wasn’t there.

Tucker turned towards the stairs again, and then up. Danny was floating above the stairs with a sheepish grin.

“Sorry,” the boy apologized, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t think you would stumble if I did that—Jazz usually doesn’t.”

“Jazz probably knows to expect it and braces for it,” Tucker grumbled back. He wasn’t really all that angry—Danny had grown up too sheltered to realize, and that wasn’t his fault. “Just be careful, alright? I could’ve fallen and hit something.”

Danny started looking even more guilty, which made Tucker feel guilty, and boy. This was just brilliant.

“Seriously, it’s fine,” he added to try and break this circle of guilt. “You didn’t know any better. Come on, let’s just go upstairs.”

“If you’re sure…” Danny shot him a last worried look, which Tucker dismissed with a flap of his hand, before flying upstairs. Tucker waited for another moment before following on foot.

Sam had already found the phone and was now busy fending off her overly concerned parents. Tucker couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he could recognize that exasperated look from a mile away.

Rather than bother waiting for her to be done, he dug his cellphone out of his pocket and dialed his home.

“Good evening, Angela Foley speaking,” his mom answered.

“Hey Mom.” Tucker’s eyes wandered back to the scene in the kitchen. Sam was still arguing with her parents on the phone. Danny was worriedly hovering over her—literally. Danny’s parents, both human and ghostly, were quietly talking over the stove. “Sorry for the late call, but um. A friend asked if I could stay over for dinner, and Sam already said yes, so…”

His mom snorted. “Tucker, honey, you can just say that Sam wants you over to shield her from her parents.”

“Well, yeah, I know that.” Danny had floated even closer to Sam, and now had his hands wrapped around her shoulders. Someone should teach this guy about personal space. “Sam and I are over at a different friend’s place, and his parents asked us if we wanted to stay for dinner.”

“Oh?” He could hear his mom’s curiosity over the phone. They were gonna have a talk when he got home. “Who’s this, then? I thought everyone else in your class was “stupid” and “insufferable”?”

“He’s new.” Sam had apparently gotten tired of Danny’s clinginess, and was now fending him off with one hand. The other still held the Fentons’ telephone. “I’ll tell you when I get home, okay, but can I stay for dinner at least?”

His mom remained silent for a long moment, then sighed. “Of course you can stay, sweetie. I’m glad you and Sam are making more friends.”

Ugh, embarrassing. Good thing that no one was listening.

Or maybe they were, because Danny stopped flailing at Sam for just long enough to throw Tucker a look. Did ghosts have superhuman hearing? Tucker resolved to find out ASAP.

“Alright. Thanks, Mom. Love you.”

His mom laughed, softly. “Love you too, honey. Don’t be late, okay? And be safe.”

“I will,” he promised. “See you later.”

He hung up. When he looked up from his phone, Danny was grinning at him.

Then Sam swatted the boy in his face, and that wiped the grin off real quick. Danny spluttered at Sam. Sam held out a single warning finger, and Danny settled down again.

Ah. A fast learner, that one. It had taken Tucker weeks of bruised shins to figure out that Sam was a terrifying enemy, and generally not worth fighting.

He stuffed his cellphone back into his pocket, then wandered back over. Danny was pouting at him, curling into a sad ball.

It would look more pitiful if he hadn’t been floating. That kind of made the whole thing rather silly.

“Having fun with your parents, Sam?” Tucker asked, grinning at her wordless growl. Turning to Danny, he added, “My parents are fine with me staying over for dinner, by the way.”

That cheered the boy back up, and he shot Tucker another vicious grin. Well, it probably wasn’t intended as vicious, but come on. You can’t have a pleasant smile with those kind of fangs.

“Mom,” Sam snarled at the phone. “Seriously, it’s just dinner! His whole family is gonna be there. Chill out!”

Ah. It was one of those conversations.

Tucker gestured for the phone, and Sam handed it over without protest.

“Hey Mrs. Manson,” Tucker greeted before he’d even put the phone to his ear. “My parents were fine with me staying over for dinner with Danny, so I can walk Sam home afterwards, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Sam’s mom scoffed on the other side of the line. “Sammy doesn’t need you to walk her home, Foley.”

“Cool, so there’s no problem with her staying for dinner?” Tucker winked at Sam. “Thanks, Mrs. Manson, you’re the best.”

He could hear a sharp intake of breath. Knowing what that meant, he hung up before she could start yelling.

“I gotcha,” he told Sam, placing the phone back onto its holder. “But I think your mom hates me again.”

“I don’t think she ever stopped.” Sam grinned at him. “Thanks, Tuck. Ah, Danny, looks like I can stay over for dinner as well.”

“Um.” Danny blinked between Tucker and Sam, clearly confused. “Good?”

“Don’t worry about all that,” Tucker assured him. “Sam’s parents are… kind of overbearing and controlling. They dislike anyone who doesn’t meet their standards.”

“Their standards being rich and boring as hell,” Sam tacked on. “Seriously, they don’t approve of like, 90% of the people at our school. They’re just extra mad at Tucker and his family because they think that if I hadn’t befriended him, they could’ve stuck me with their rich friends’ kids.”

“Uh, okay.” Danny nodded like he understood, but his expression said that that absolutely wasn’t the case. Tucker couldn’t blame him. The Mansons were something else even if you were used to regular human society. To someone raised by ghosts and Jack Fenton, they were like an entirely different species.

“Oh, kids.” Maddie looked up from the stove, somewhere in the process of nudging Jack away so he couldn’t reach. “It might be a bit before this is done. Why don’t you go to the living room to wait?”

“Or my room!” Danny bounced with excitement over the prospect, the green sparks in his eyes brightening. Wow. They could do that? “That’s okay too, right Mom?”

She laughed obligingly. “Of course, honey. I’ll call when it’s done, okay?”

Danny nodded, then shot the both of them such a sparkly look that Tucker couldn’t have refused even if he’d wanted to.

Seriously, it had to be illegal to have puppy eyes that powerful.

---

Danny lingered in the doorway to the living room, throwing sad looks at Tucker and Sam.

“Sorry we couldn’t stick around longer,” Sam told him, nudging Danny gently.

“It’s fine,” he said, looking very much like it was not fine. “Sorry you didn’t get to meet the other ghosts.”

“We’ll just have to save that for next time, won’t we?” Tucker bumped Danny as well. “Seriously, dude, cheer up. We’ll see you at school tomorrow, yeah? No need to act like we’ll never meet again.”

The other boy shrugged listlessly. “I guess…”

“Seriously, man.” Tucker reached over to jostle Danny’s shoulder. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Why are you acting like we’re gonna disappear?”

“I…” Danny looked up, startled. “We’re friends? Still?”

“What do you mean, still?” Tucker looked back at Sam, but she looked as startled as he was. He turned back to Danny. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Well, just…” Danny gestured backwards at the rest of the house. Jack and Maddie were inconspicuously looking like they weren’t listening in, while Jazz was glaring at the both of them for doing exactly that.

“Danny, man, we already knew how crazy your family might be when we met.” Tucker grinned at him. “Seriously, you warned us, didn’t you?”

Sam crept in closer again. “Besides, if you thought that your family was crazy, wait until you meet mine. At least your craziness is fun.”

“Sam,” Tucker scolded, but Danny brightened up nonetheless. Turning back to him, Tucker added, “Anyway, we already said we were friends, didn’t we? It was the start of a beautiful friendship, and those don’t end so easily.”

“Right,” Danny agreed, a hesitant grin on his face. “Nothing beautiful about that.”

Tucker clapped him on the shoulder, then nodded at the definitely-not-listening Fentons. “Besides, who’s gonna do a better job of teaching you about school than the unseen nobodies?”

“Nobody?” Danny guessed, uncertainly.

“That’s right!” Tucker crowed, before turning to the door. “Seriously, we’ll keep an eye on you. Us invisibles, we take care of each other.”

Sam nodded her agreement. “Really, you’re not getting rid of us that easy, Fenton.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Danny assured them, grinning.

[dkronpa]

Chapter 4: The Sky is Just a Skip Away ~Trial~

//YIKES!! This chapter took some time to complete but it is finally here! This trial had a lot of ground to cover, coming up to a word count just shy of 11,000 words! I hope you all enjoy it, and I’ll get to work on the post-trial!

-Class Trial Start! All rise!-

“Now! Let’s begin with a simple explanation of the class trial! You’re votes will determine the outcome of this, you will debate on a variety of topics regarding the murder and then try to identify ‘whodunit’. If you can correctly guess the culprit, then the culprit alone will be punished…but if you guess the wrong one. I’ll punish everyone besides the culprit! And that person will earn the right to graduate!”

“Alright, let’s get right into it…which one of you killed them?” Amaterasu-san started.

“Huh?” I raised an eyebrow.

 “Don’t play dumb. I know one of you killed Doi-chan and Mami-chan. You better fess up before I lose my patience.”

“You still talking in that same monotonous tone somehow makes this a whole lot creepier.” Yokozawa-san commented.

“I get you’re pissed off about what happened, but you must have learned by now that brute forcing your way through these things will just cause more trouble than it’s worth.” Sly-san said.

“I don’t care. I want their killer dead.” Amaterasu-san spat.

“If that’s all you want, then say no more!” Graves-san piped up, “after all, looking at it logically, we only really need to consider three people as the culprit in this scenario. After all, majority of us have alibis!”

Majority of us…by that, she means…

-

My logic follows!

-

“Graves-san, Okanaya-kun, Kurosaki-san, and Sly-san all have alibis for the time of the murder. After all, they were together far before it all went down. I joined them a little later, but to say I have a solid alibi…”

“So then! Between Ryuu, Rina, Junpei, and Amaterasu herself! One of you guys must be the culprit!” Graves-san declared.

“Huh?! I’m a suspect?!” Kirishima-san exclaimed. Graves-san is saying someone out of us four is the culprit due to alibis…I wonder how this argument will pan out.

-Non-Stop Debate (1)-

Truth Bullets/Lie Bullets

Kirishima-san’s Account/Kirishima-san’s Mistake

Graves-san’s Account/Graves-san’s Mistake

Amaterasu-san’s Account/Amaterasu-san’s Mistake

Karma: Since half of us already have alibis…it’s up to you guys to debate who the culprit is!

Rina: Th-there’s no way I’m the culprit! I was in my lab all day! I never even went to the 3rd floor!

Junpei: Yeah, I was in my lab as well. I never left it cause I was working hard on the computer.

Sly: We’ll need some evidence of what you’re saying.

Amaterasu: …

Kobo: Hey, it’s suspicious if you keep quiet! Maybe you’re the culprit!

Amaterasu: Don’t even suggest that.

Ryuu: (If we can start disproving some of these accusations, it’ll be a good start…Graves-san said only 3 people need to suspected, so…)

I agree with that!

- 

“Actually, out of us four, Yokozawa-san has an alibi. In fact, I’d like to know why you haven’t brought it up yet Graves-san, since you were the one that told me about it. Graves-san was by the fountain at around 10:40pm, the time of the murder. From there, she could see into the window of Yokozawa-san’s lab. He was sitting there the whole time.”

“Yep, that’s true!” Graves-san nodded.

“Then why didn’t you say that upfront?!” Okanaya-kun yelled.

“It’s good to get the brain going quickly. So, I decided to give Ryuu an easy one to start off with.” She smiled. Okanaya-kun clicked his tongue and looked away.

“But in that case, it means Nagata, Kirishima, and Amaterasu all are lacking alibis for the time of the murder.” Sly-san stated.

“Are we even sure she actually saw Junpei-chan? I mean, from the middle of the courtyard?” Amaterasu-san questioned.

“Sure, I couldn’t tell at the time, but Ryuu and Yuuki are the only other blond guys and they were with me when we heard those gunshots go off.” Graves-san said. “Ah, now that I think about it! That means Ryuu also had an alibi for the time of the murders, he has a bunch of witnesses to the fact!”

“Which just leaves us with Amaterasu and Kirishima, huh? Well, obviously that ain’t right. Everybody knows Kirishima couldn’t kill anybody, let alone two people. Meanwhile, it’s impossible for Amaterasu to have killed those two in particular. Anyone else I could’a seen.” Okanaya-kun said.

“Huuuh? Thinking like that isn’t helping! We need to really suspect those two, y’know? I mean…did anybody seriously think any of the culprits so far actually seemed capable of killing?” Graves-san asked.

“Karma has a point.” Kurosaki-san agreed.

“What the hell…don’t mess around. There’s no way I’m the culprit.” Amaterasu-san said.

“N-neither! Not a chance!” Kirishima-san added.

“Though it’s true that neither of you have alibis, right?” Sly-san asked.

“W-well…yes.” Kirishima-san confirmed. Amaterasu-san crossed her arms and looked away, confirming Sly-san’s suspicions.

“Then let’s play the game of lies! Which one of our suspects is lying this time around?!” Graves-san cheered. Amaterasu-san and Kirishima-san? No way, they’re both the last people who would murder someone, especially in a case like this.

-Non-Stop Debate (2)-

Truth Bullets/Lie Bullets

Amaterasu-san’s Account/Amaterasu-san’s Mistake

Graves-san’s Account/Graves-san’s Mistake

Kirishima-san’s Account/Kirishima-san’s Mistake

Firecrackers/Fireworks

4-Way Battle Royale/Abandoned Meeting

Karma: Since Amaterasu and Rina are the only ones with no alibi…one of them must be the killer!

Rina: Th-there must be some mistake, there’s no way I could have killed them!

Amaterasu: And if an alibi is all you have on me, then you clearly don’t know how these trials go. Unless there’s actual proof connecting either of us to the crime scene then you can’t name us.

Yuuki: Well, nothing actually links anybody as far we know…

Karma: But, but! Everyone at the battle royale has an alibi cause we heard the gunshots! Not to mention I can personally vouch for Junpei’s whereabouts!

Kobo: Then it’s probably Amaterasu. Can’t be Kirishima.

Sly: Don’t count someone out so easily.

Ryuu: (I’m not sure if I can prove either of them as innocent with what we’ve deduced thus far…but maybe I should think about what makes them suspicious. The established alibis are the problem, so can I do something about that?)

No, that’s wrong!

--

“Graves-san, you’re saying that because Amaterasu-san and Kirishima-san weren’t present during that moment we heard the gunshots, one of them is the killer?”

“Pretty much! Or maybe both of them are the culprit and are working together! That would be a twist!” Graves-san proposed.

“No…we can’t say that’s correct. After all, it’s entirely possible that what we heard wasn’t gunshots. Kurosaki-san was poking around the labs earlier and found that a box of firecrackers in Amaterasu-san’s lab were opened and two firecrackers were taken. The same amount as the number of gunshots we heard in the courtyard.”

“Huuuuh? Firecrackers from the Ultimate Thief lab? Isn’t that something that can tie Amaterasu to the crime then?”

“Not necessarily. If someone went snooping around in the labs beforehand, they could have easily discovered those firecrackers. It’s not like Amaterasu’s lab has a lock on it.” Sly-san argued.

“Exactly! It was easy enough for me to discover them!” Kurosaki-san added.

“Right, I think we might be able to assume that the noise we heard in the courtyard was actually firecrackers, and not the gunshots.”

Ding dong, guess who’s wrong!

--

“Nope. I still pretty much think we heard gunshots! Maybe the killer took the firecrackers as a red herring or something? Make sure you don’t fall for the killer’s trap now, Ryuu!” Graves-san smiled brightly.

-Rebuttal Showdown Vs. Karma Graves-

Truth Blades:

Firecrackers

4-Way Battle Royale

Kurohiko’s Gun

Yokozawa-san’s Account

Karma: Sure, I agree that it’s possible for the noise to have been some firecrackers, but don’t you think gunshots and firecrackers make totally different sounds? Surely somebody would’ve been able to distinguish the noise. But since everyone agreed it had to be gunshots, they must have been gunshots!

Ryuu: The fountain in the middle of the courtyard is a good distance away from the Talent Lab building, from that distance it would’ve been a lot harder to tell the difference between two such noises.

Karma: Hmm…maybe! But it doesn’t change the fact that everybody heard them around the time of the murder! Since that’s the case, it couldn’t have been anything but gunshots. I mean, why would the killer have to gain from setting off firecrackers at the exact same time they were gonna kill two people? How would they even coordinate that?

Ryuu: (There’s a sound argument here, but not a perfect one. Somebody clearly contradicts this argument!)

I’ll cut through that argument!

--

“No! You’re wrong! Not everybody heard the alleged gunshots at that time. Yokozawa-san was working in his lab at the time of the murder, that much you’ve already confirmed. However, he never mentioned hearing any gunshots around the time of the murder. Not everybody that should’ve heard the shots heard them!”

“Yeah, it’s true…even though I was working in my lab the whole time, I never heard anything suspicious.” Yokozawa-san confirmed

“Yokozawa was working hard though, maybe he just missed them?” Okanaya-kun suggested.

“No, that’s not it. There was a reason that’s already been revealed by Yokozawa-san.”

-

Here’s my proof!

-

“Yokozawa-san and Kirishima-san did an experiment during the investigation. One of them stood outside in the hallway whilst the other stayed inside the crime scene with the room door closed. No matter how much noise either of them made, the other couldn’t hear them.”

“It’s true. I can confirm as much, made it that much harder to focus on my own investigation.” Sly-san confirmed.

“S-sorry about that, we just wanted to make sure, but because of that I’m sure the walls to the Talent Building are all soundproofed!” Kirishima-san said.

“Interesting…so that means what we all heard could not have been the killing shots. Since we shouldn’t have been able to hear any noises from inside the building, the noises must have come from outside. So, most likely, they’re the missing firecrackers.” Kurosaki-san summarised.

“And it’s not, like…I dunno, they were shot through an open window or something, right?” Okanaya-kun asked, “Just making sure we’re covering everything.”

“As in a sniper? No, that would’ve been impossible too.” Sly-san said. Right…because of that…

-

Here’s my proof!

-

“Sly-san’s investigation revealed that Kurohiko-san was shot with a pistol whilst Asano-san was killed with a revolver. Neither of them were killed with sniper bullets, so that kind of murder method isn’t a possibility.”

“So, the killer was definitely in the room with them. That much is definite.” Amaterasu-san concluded.

“Then doesn’t that just bring us right back to what I was saying? Whoever didn’t have an alibi had to be the killer. Amaterasu and Rina.” Graves-san said.

“No, we can’t say they’re the only ones without alibis anymore. Since we never heard the gunshots, we can’t say we were all together at the time of the murder. That 4-way battle royale can’t be considered a solid alibi anymore.” I explained.

“Sorry, but I don’t agree with that part.” Sly-san interrupted. “I think the 4-way battle royale can still be considered an alibi when you consider the timeline of the events. First of all, you know when the murders took place, roughly. Right?” Yeah, the Monokuma File mentioned as much…

-

My logic follows!

-

“The murders took place between 10:40pm and 10:45pm, as stated in the Monokuma File.”

“Right, and Kurosaki was the last one to turn up to the battle royale though really, he, Okanaya and I basically arrived at the same time. That was at 10:50pm.”

“Then that means Karma-chan was by herself before that.” Amaterasu-san pointed out.

“True, however with how soon us three turned up to the meeting place, it meant Graves wasn’t left with enough time to come down from the third floor and get to the fountain before 10:50pm. Due to that, it means us four all have alibis.” Sly-san explained.

“That’s, like, a whole half of us!” Kirishima-san exclaimed.

“Not to mention Graves already gave Yokozawa an alibi too. So, he’s in the clear.” Okanaya-kun reminded, “W…wait…then doesn’t that mean there’s only one additional suspect?” One additional suspect…? Is he talking about…?

-

It’s you!

-

“W-wait…are you talking about me?” I asked.

“Nagata was the only one that gained an alibi from the firecrackers trick. He arrived at the fountain just before the went off.” Sly-san said.

“Not to mention, he did come from talent building path, right?” Graves-san grinned, “Ahhhhh, I get it. Ryuu must have killed those two and then tried to use those firecrackers as a last-minute alibi when he saw all of us at the central fountain. Honestly, we should’ve seen it coming when those firecrackers didn’t line up with the time of death. Those firecrackers were, what? 20 minutes after the murders? More? Sloppy, sloppy work.”

“Ryuu-chan?” Amaterasu-san’s stoic expression faltered. Dammit! She said I was away for a long time after I left for my walk, don’t tell she thinks…

“N-no, I didn’t do anything like that! I was walking a lap of the grounds and noticed you guys had gathered at the fountain by the time I reached the talent building.”

“Well, did you notice Graves-san sitting there before everyone else had gathered?” Kurosaki-san asked.

“N…no, I didn’t. I was kind of in a daze of sorts, so I wasn’t really paying attention to anything for a while. S-sorry, I know it’s a weak reason-“

“I believe him.” Okanaya-kun suddenly said.

“Huh? You believe a bunch of lame-o excuses like that?” Graves-san’s brows furrowed, “I get you don’t always understand what’s going on but if you’re really gonna side with him, shouldn’t you at least wait to hear a good reason to?”

“Nagata’s way too honest, don’t you guys think? It kinda pisses me off sometimes. Nagata was the one that brought up the firecracker possibility in the first place, y’know! Why would he do something that was gonna destroy his own alibi?”

“That’s…” Graves-san frowned, “I guess that’s a good point. Even so, he’s suspicious.”

“So what? Everyone’s suspicious all the time during a class trial! There’s plenty of tricks that could’ve been used to create an alibi, so why’re we deciding it’s Nagata so soon?! We don’t even know what happened yet. All we’ve been doing is naming people and hopin’ an accusation will stick!” Okanaya-kun lectured.

“Okay, okay-“

“Nah! You all haven’t learned shit! Alright, you just leave this to me, I’ll guide us to the truth this time. Let’s start all over and look at this from the beginning! The crime scene!” Okanaya-kun grinned.

“Wh…what’s with you all of a sudden? Someone put a quarter in you or something?” Graves-san sighed, “Fine. Let’s see how this guy’s methods hold up. Should be fun.”

“Then we’re going to look at the crime scene, right? Then in that case, I propose we actually discuss the second important matter of this trial- namely which order the victims died in.” Sly-san said.

“Right…Monokuma’s rule stated that only the first body counts in the class trial. It’s important to know who died first on the off chance that the killer of Herr Kurohiko and Mademoiselle Asano are different.” Kurosaki-san said.

“That’s quite the theory to bring up suddenly.” Amaterasu-san commented.

“I’m just saying, we should be ready for anything.”

“Now…let’s go! Let’s look into who died first!” Okanaya-kun said far too enthusiastically. Even though he was angry with me, he still stood up for me. Okanaya-kun…thank you.

-Non-Stop Debate (3)-

Truth Bullets/Lie Bullets

Kurohiko-san’s Gun/Kurohiko-san’s Knife

Asano-san’s Gun/Asano-san’s Knife

Room Setup/Trashed Room

Room Divider/Empty Room

Note on Asano-san’s Body/Asano-san’s Empty Pockets

Yuuki: For a reason we can get to later, Herr Kurohiko and Mademoiselle Asano ended up in the Ultimate Romance Expert’s Lab

Rina: And whilst they were there, the killer arrived at the scene…and shot both of them. So, then…which of them died first?

Kobo: My gut says Asano but I ain’t got a reason to think that, really.

Rina: Right. It was just as possible that Kurohiko-kun was the first one to die. So then what do we do to figure out who it was.

Kobo: No clue! But I’m sure there’s evidence somewhere! There always is!

Amaterasu: You jumped into a topic without knowing how to go about getting answers? Idiot.

Kobo: I didn’t pick this topic, Sly did!

Ryuu: (Knowing who died first will be an important part to the case. If there’s any way to figure out who could’ve been shot first, that’s what we need to figure out.)

I agree with that!

--

“Going off the evidence, and my own suspicions on what happened, I think it was Asano-san who died first. In between the bodies was that divider, right? That divider had two separate holes –presumably, bullet holes- but neither of those bullet holes were at the right height to have hit Kurohiko-san’s heart. One of them, however, was the right height to hit Asano-san’s head.”

“It’s not just that either. The bullet that hit Asano didn’t go all the way through, whilst the one that hit Kurohiko did go all the way through. I’m led to believe that Asano was shot through the divider and the divider slowed the bullet down enough that it didn’t go all the way through.” Sly-san added.

“Then what about Kurohiko-kun? The killer was nearby him by the sounds of it, but on the other side of the divider from Asano-san?” Kirishima-san questioned.

“That’s another confusing point as well. By that logic, the killer would have had to stand where Kurohiko’s body was and shoot Asano through the divider and then turn and kill Kurohiko who would be right next to them, but that doesn’t sound possible at all. Surely Kurohiko would’ve run right after Asano got shot, and vice-versa.” Sly-san frowned.

Okanaya-kun clapped his hands once to gather the attention, “then for now, we’ll look at something bothering me! Why the hell did those two go to Kurohiko’s lab in the first place?! Talk about a weird place for both of them to be!”

“Is it really so weird for Kurohiko-kun to be there?” Yokozawa-san asked, though it was said more like a jab.

“Maybe not! But it was definitely weird for Asano to be there! So…let’s discuss, yeah?!”

-Non-Stop Debate (4)-

Truth Bullets/Lie Bullets:

Kirishima-san’s Account/Kirishima-san’s Mistake

Note on Asano-san’s Body/Asano-san’s Empty Pockets

Ultimate Assassin’s Lab/Ultimate Explorer’s Lab

Yokozawa-san’s Account/Yokozawa-san’s Mistake

 Kobo: It’s totally weird for both Kurohiko and Asano to have been together, right?!

 Karma: They were both friends, that’s not weird at all.

 Kobo: Nah, something about the situation is weird! I bet there was a plan to meet up!

 Rina: Oh! Oh! And if that’s true…maybe the killer went there planning to kill one of them…but got surprised by the other!

 Kobo: Yeah! That’s the type of theories I’m looking for!

 Amaterasu: That still doesn’t answer any of the other questions…

 Ryuu: (Hmm…I think it’s easy to prove why they were there together, but what does it mean?)

I agree with that!

--

“Okanaya-kun is probably onto something there. It’s likely that Asano-san and Kurohiko-san planned to meet at the Ultimate Romance Expert’s Lab that night. There was a note found in Asano-san’s dress pocket that detailed a scheduled meeting half an hour after night-time. A time just ten minutes before the murders occurred.”

 “Ah!” Kirishima-san gasped, “th-then the reason I saw Asano-san when I was leaving my lab earlier…she was going to that meeting?”

 “You never mentioned you saw Asano-san.” Yokozawa-san pointed out.

 “O-oh…sorry. Just after night-time began, I left my lab to go to bed and I bumped into Asano-san on the way out. We just said our hellos and went out ways, but in hindsight…she must have been going there.”

 “Why the hell would she turn up so early to the meeting? It wasn’t for another half an hour, right?” Graves-san asked.

 “Asano was brought up with strict rules. Remember, she wouldn’t even speak unless asked to when we first met her. It’s entirely possible she was taught to be that early to meetings.” Kurosaki-san theorised.

 “So, like, what were Asano-san and Kurohiko-kun going to meet about?” Kirishima-san asked.

 “That’s still unclear. It must have important if it was arranged via note instead of being asked in person. Maybe whatever they were meeting about was a dangerous topic they couldn’t discuss in the open in case the wrong person overheard them?” I suggested.

 “Like a shootout.” Graves-san said casually. Huh…? A shootout? What’s with a suggestion like that? “It’s totally possible, right? Maybe the two were planning to go on a spree and that’s why they met up? A merciful killing compared to letting us all suffocate to death. I can totally believe Doi convinced Mami into doing that.”

 “Don’t be so stupid, you didn’t even know them.” Amaterasu-san said.

 “And you did? If you were so close, how come you weren’t included in their little plan?” Graves-san grinned. Amaterasu-san clicked her tongue and looked away. A shootout…a shootout? “Besides, there’s totally evidence that one of them took the weapons for a shootout.”

 The evidence that something was taken for a shootout…?

-

Here’s my proof!

-

“You’re referring to the revolvers that went missing from Sly-san’s lab, right? Do you think that either Kurohiko-san or Asano-san took them?”

 “Of course! Nobody else was walking around with a gun, right? They totally were the ones that stole them! And they were planning a shootout before the killer came along and killed them both!” Graves-san smiled.

 A shootout…a shootout? Ah! “Graves-san…might be onto something.”

 “What?” Amaterasu-san glared.

 “N-not a shootout in the way that Graves-san suggested, but something similar…if I’m right, I don’t think Kurohiko-san and Asano-san had any malicious intent in their plans. I believe Kurohiko-san and Asano-san were actually agreeing to a duel.”

 “…huh?” Yokozawa-san said. “Wh…what do you mean?”

 “Uh…okay. Let’s look at it like this. We know that someone shot through the room divider and ended up killing Asano-san, right? Well, I’d say the setup was something along the lines of…Kurohiko-san and Asano-san stood across from each other and the room divider was slid into place. The two then took aim and fired and in a stroke of…I guess you could call it luck, Kurohiko-san managed to kill Asano-san without even seeing her.”

 “L-like some kind of suicide pact?!” Kirishima-san exclaimed, covering her mouth in shock.

 “No, that would imply that the other killed themselves afterwards but that doesn’t make sense.” Sly-san objected. Right…it couldn’t be like that because…

-

Here’s my proof!

-

“The different types of bullets. Sly-san told me that the bullet in Asano-san’s body came from a revolver, but the bullet in Kurohiko-san came from a pistol. The difference in gun types means that whoever survived the duel didn’t kill themselves afterwards.”

 “Yeah…it’s basically confirmation of what we suspected anyway. There were two different killers this whole time.” Sly-san said.

 “T…two killers…” Yokozawa-san’s face seemed to gain a green tint, “Urp…o-oh god…”

 “At the very least, can we agree that Kurohiko was Asano’s killer? We already agreed she died first so-“

 “No.” Amaterasu-san spoke suddenly. “No way…I refuse to accept that. A duel? A suicide pact? Who cares, there’s no way either of them killed the other. It’s gotta be some other kind of explanation…”

 “Amaterasu-san-“

 “No!” She snarled all of a sudden, and without warning the stoic mask that Amaterasu-san always wore was shattered and replaced with an expression that can only be compared to a wolf baring its fangs. “They…they wouldn’t do that…! You’re telling me they were just gonna sacrifice their lives like that?! Some kind of sick agreement where only one of them lived…wh-why…? Why would they do that? Why wouldn’t they tell me?”

 “Probably because of how you’re acting now.” Okanaya-kun said suddenly, “If they told you their plan you probably would have tried to stop them. I think they did this for the same reason we had that battle royale. They…wanted to end the killing game as well.”

 “End the killing game?” Amaterasu-san looked down at the floor, “a sacrifice like that…yeah. It’s like a message saying, ‘you don’t have to play anymore’, right? We could’ve discovered the truth and it would’ve been some sappy moment where we all vowed never to kill.”

 “And they didn’t know about the battle royale cause we didn’t think to tell them. Shit!” Okanaya-kun cursed.

 “If anything, the battle royale would have made them carry out their plan quicker.” Kurosaki-san said.

 “Doi-chan…Mami-chan…!” Amaterasu-san gripped her podium with enough force that the wood creaked, “they should have spoken to me about this…we could have found another way out!”

 “I’m not sure if we could’ve.” Okanaya-kun said, “we were running out of oxygen. We had no options, y’know? Everyone but you, Nagata, Kirishima, and Yokozawa were involved in something that meant sacrificing someone. We had no choice. It was just a race to see whose plan finished first.”

 “Then where does this leave us?” Yokozawa-san asked, “I mean…we know now that Kurohiko-kun killed Asano-san. Does that mean that Kurohiko-kun is the culprit?”

 Kirishima-san gasped. “Ah! Then that would mean…”

 “No execution…” I finished. Really? Asano-san died first, which would mean this trial is for her, according to Monokuma’s ‘first body’ rule. Right?

 “Then we’re at voting time. Monokuma?” Graves-san said.

 “You sure? Is it really time? Seems a little anticlimactic, but I got no problem-“

 “Wait!” Huh?

 “Nagata? Something up?” Okanaya-kun asked. I’m not sure…but I just felt like I needed to object for some reason.

 “So, it’s not just me. Something doesn’t fit…that rule Monokuma put in place about the ‘first body’, are you all interpreting it correctly?” Sly-san said.

 “Yeah? Asano died first, so she’s the one that class trial is for. So, the culprit’s Kurohiko.” Okanaya-kun explained.

 “What if that isn’t it though?” I said, “thinking out loud, but…wouldn’t it make more sense for the rule to be talking about the body we discovered first? Wouldn’t that mean this trial is about finding Kurohiko-san’s killer?”

 “Huh?! Kurohiko-kun’s killer?!” Kirishima-san exclaimed.

 “I suppose the rule itself is pretty unclear, isn’t it? Monokuma, you willing to tell us more?” Kurosaki-san asked.

 “Hmmm…I mean. I kinda like where this is headed. I think I’ll let you guys duke it out for a bit and if you entertain me enough, I might let you guys in on that juicy info! In fact…”

 Here comes the segue!

-

“I figured this is where the discussion is heading anyway, so how about we just jump right into it? Presenting our very own morphenomenal trial grounds!” Monokuma announced, pulling out the key we had seen several times before. He turned it and we all slowly rose into the air.

 -Scrum Debate, Begin!-

“Who is the class trial for?”

“Doi Kurohiko!” – Ryuu, Amaterasu, Sly

“Mami Asano!” – Kobo, Rina, Junpei, Karma, Yuuki

Karma: Haven’t we finished already? The culprit has been decided!

(Sly-san!)

Sly: Nothing has been decided yet. We have a lot to go over still.

Rina: Monokuma’s rule says the first body will be the one we argue about in the class trial!

(I’ll deal with this!)

Ryuu: The rule never once specific what ‘first body’ really meant though! We discovered Kurohiko-san first, so he could easily count as the ‘first body’ too!

Karma: Mami died first, so this trial is for her!

(Amaterasu-san!)

Amaterasu: Mami-chan might have died first, but that doesn’t mean the rules dictate her as the first body.

Junpei: What’s the point in even arguing about this? We know the whole story, so let’s just go to voting.

(I’ll deal with this!)

Ryuu: It’s too early to start voting when we still haven’t figured out the truth behind Monokuma’s rule!

Yuuki: If Kurohiko isn’t the culprit, you’re saying we still have an undiscovered truth?

(Sly-san!)

Sly: We can easily uncover the truth if we keep discussing a little longer!

“This is our answer!”

-

“Everyone, you have to listen to us! The killer we’re looking for isn’t Kurohiko-san! I’m sure of it now. Monokuma’s rule didn’t refer to the person who died first, it meant whoever we discovered first!”

 “When we got to the room, Kurohiko was the one we found first. We only found Asano after Kurosaki pulled back that curtain.” Okanaya-kun said.

 “Right…the curtain! The culprit must have drawn that curtain to hide Mademoiselle Asano’s body so they could guarantee that this trial would be for Herr Kurohiko.” Kurosaki-san concluded.

 “Son of a bitch! Then that means they must have known how the rule worked beforehand, right? Monokuma, did you tell anyone that rule before today?!” Okanaya-kun demanded.

 “Lemme think…oh! I completely forgot; I totally did tell someone the first day you all got here! They were asking for a lot of clarification on the specifics of the killing game and…well, I guess two bodies came up.” Monokuma covered his mouth with his paws and stopped himself from laughing.

 “A-and…? Are you gonna tell us the rule?” Yokozawa-san asked.

 “If you must know, Nagata is totally right! Since it was Doi Kurohiko’s body that was discovered first, this class trial is totally about discovering his killer! You guys wasted a whole lot of time figuring out who killed Asano!”

 “Wasted?!” Amaterasu-san snarled.

 “Then we still don’t actually know anything!” Kirishima-san said.

 “No, there’s no need to think about things like that. After all, we’ve gathered a lot so far. For now, we need to focus on Kurohiko’s body. There’s a clue there that hasn’t been properly explored yet. Something we can look at to discover our culprit’s identity.” Sly-san said. The clue in Kurohiko’s body? That’s probably…

-

My logic follows!

-

“The gun that was used to kill Kurohiko-san wasn’t found at the crime scene. Unlike Asano-san, who was killed with a revolver, Kurohiko-san was killed with a pistol.”

 “A pistol, huh? You said that the revolvers went missing from your lab, right? Is it the same for that pistol?” Okanaya-kun asked.

 “Impossible. My lab doesn’t carry pistols, it never has. That’s where I’m confused. I never took the time to look at the other talent labs so I don’t know if anybody might have firearms of some kind? There are a few I would think might.”

 …Sly-san’s lab doesn’t have pistols.

 And if Sly-san’s lab doesn’t have pistols…”I know who the culprit is.”

 “Huh? Out of nowhere?” Kirishima-san tilted her head.

 “It should’ve been obvious as soon as Sly-san said about that pistol! I just…yeah, it just clicked there. The culprit…”

-

The culprit…is you!

-

“Graves-san, it’s you.”

 “Huh?!” Yokozawa-san startled.

 “What the hell? It’s Graves?! How the hell did you figure that one out?!”

 “I’m guessing I’m in the minority here, but I’ve actually gotten to see Graves-san’s lab. Twice, in fact. She has a lab fully equipped with firearms, gadgets, I even saw a grappling hook in there. I’ve seen every lab, and Graves-san’s is the only one other than Sly-san’s that comes equipped with guns.”

 “I see. I figured Graves would be a likely suspect, but because I hadn’t seen the other labs, I couldn’t be sure. I wondered if maybe Kurosaki or Okanaya had antique guns that could have been used…”

 “Nothing like that.” Okanaya-kun said.

 “Same here.” Kurosaki-san added.

 “Then it really could only have come from Graves-san’s lab. Even so, how does that make her the culprit? Anybody could have walked right into Graves-san’s lab and took a pistol.” Yokozawa-san said.

 No, they couldn’t have done that. Nobody can just walk into Graves-san’s lab.

-

Here’s my proof!

-

“Graves-san’s lab is fully equipped with different types of passcodes, retina scanners, fingerprint scanners, everything. The only reason I got in was because I met Graves-san up there during the investigation. I can only presume that she was putting away the pistol she used to kill Kurohiko-san.”

 “So even if someone could get past a passcode, they couldn’t get past things that would actually require Graves’ physical body.” Sly-san summarised.

 All of the eyes went to Graves-san who was playing with her snapback. Has she even been listening to this? She was so quick to accuse everybody earlier, so what’s with this sudden disinterest? “Graves-san, don’t you have anything to say? You’re being accused of the murder.” I say.

 “Oh, I heard.” She stared at us with a smile, “Soooo…?”

 “So?!” I repeated.

 She folded her arms behind her head, “I don’t plan on kicking and screaming if that’s what you’re expecting from me! I got waaaay more class than that, homeslice!” She said that, but I could see her foot tapping out a rhythm. Was she nervous now?

 “Shouldn’t you still be trying to refute it?” Amaterasu-san said.

 “I don’t really have to. You’re accusing me even though I have an alibi, remember? I was at the battle royale, remember?”

 “You were the first one there, and I think I touched on it earlier but even though I was the last to arrive; myself, Herr Knives, and Herr Okanaya all arrived within the same minute. You had a good 5 to 10 minutes where you were by yourself.” Kurosaki-san said.

 “And? There’s no way I could’ve committed the murder and then gotten to the plaza before the rest of you with time to spare. I mean, let’s look at the timeline. Between 10:40pm and 10:45pm, Mami and Doi both die. Mami dies first and in the next few minutes, Doi dies. Meaning the killer had to be in the room in any time up until 10:45pm. If I were the killer, I would have to get rid of the weapon, edit the scene how ever I needed too, then run all the way down three floors and then reach the fountain all in a 5 minute timeframe before the rest of you show up.”

 “Th…that’s…” I start.

 “I-isn’t that impossible?” Kirishima-san said.

 Graves-san clapped her hands and cheered, “correct! It’s totally impossible to accomplish all of that!”

 “Hmm…is it though?” Kurosaki-san pondered.

 “Come again?” Graves-san smirked, “don’t tell me you’re losing it? Nobody here is fast enough to do all of that.”

 “Ahahah! Possibly! However, I think there’s still some interesting pieces of information we’ve yet to discuss. For now, maybe you could retell that whole sequence of events for us? If you’re confident enough in your own words, that is.”

 “Sure. No problem.” Graves-san said. I looked at her shoes, and they were still tapping away. Did Kurosaki-san figure something out, or is he just winging it? Maybe if I listen carefully enough, Graves-san will say something and slip up.

 -Non-Stop Debate (5)-

Truth Bullets/Lie Bullets

Orange Power/White powder

Note on Kurohiko-san’s Body/Kurohiko-san’s Empty Pocket

Yokozawa-san’s Account/Yokozawa-san’s Mistake

Kurohiko-san’s Gun/Kurohiko-san’s Knife

Room Divider/Empty Room

 Karma: I don’t know why I’m even repeating myself, but like I said…There’s no way I could’ve committed the murder and then gotten to the plaza before the rest of you with time to spare.

 Kobo: We all got to the plaza at 10:50pm and if you say you were there since 10:40pm, it’s a good enough time frame to have done it!

 Karma: I mean, let’s look at the timeline. Between 10:40pm and 10:45pm, Mami and Doi both die.

 Rina: Asano-san got shot by the gun Kurohiko-kun was holding…then Kurohiko-kun was killed by the real culprit.

 Karma: Right! Mami dies first and in the next few minutes, Doi dies. Meaning the killer had to be in the room in any time up until 10:45pm.

 Yuuki: Hmmm? And what were your reasons that it couldn’t be you?

 Karma: If I were the killer, I would have to get rid of the weapon, edit the scene in which ever way I needed too, then run all the way down three floors and then reach the fountain all in a 5 minute timeframe before the rest of you show up. Is that really possible?

 Rina: Hearing it all out loud does make it sound impossible to accomplish.

 Karma: Exactly! So, I’m innocent!

 Ryuu: (There’s something wrong here, I’m sure of it. I don’t think my logic has been wrong so far, so there should be a problem somewhere!)

No, that’s wrong!

-

“Kirishima-san, what you said isn’t true. Kurohiko-san didn’t kill Asano-san with that gun he had. The gun Kurohiko-san was holding was a BB gun.”

 “Huh? Really?” Kirishima-san tilted her head, “Oh…Sly-kun might have mentioned that to me during the investigation…maybe…”

 “Wait. A BB-gun? Are you sure?” Yokozawa-san asked.

 “Definitely. I guess I forgot to mention that the revolvers that Kurohiko and Asano took weren’t the only weapons that went missing from my lab. A BB-gun also got stolen.” Sly-san said.

 “What use does the Ultimate Assassin have for a BB-gun?” Amaterasu-san asked.

 “Target practice for when you don’t want to waste good ammunition. Plus, the pellets are easy to sweep up. However, I don’t see what this has to do with the issue at hand.”

 “H-honestly, I don’t either. But when I heard Kirishima-san say that I felt like I needed to point it out.” I admitted.

 “Awwww, you were making me think you were on to something there! Don’t get my hopes up like that!” Graves-san pouted, “well, if we’re done then-“

 “It brings a whole new set of questions now, don’t you think? For example, what must have been swapped with the BB-gun?” Kurosaki-san asked. Graves-san cocked an eyebrow. What got swapped with the BB-gun, that was…

-

My logic follows!

-

“That would have to be the gun Kurohiko-san shot Asano-san with, right? That was the other revolver that was taken from Sly-san’s lab.”

 “Correct! The culprit swapped the revolver that killed Mademoiselle Asano for the BB-gun! Meaning, they killer then had possession of the revolver in question!” Kurosaki-san said.

 “So what? That doesn’t change anything.” Okanaya-kun said.

 “…ah!” Sly-san’s eyes widened, “don’t tell me that the revolver is the same as that revolver?”

 “Huh? What do you mean?” Yokozawa-san asked.

 “We…we saw someone with a revolver right after the murders. Kurosaki, did you-“

 “I only just realised myself, actually. It’s quite embarrassing how long it took for me to piece it together. But yes, we did see someone with the revolver right after the murders took place. Right, Nagata-kyun?”

 The revolver…? Someone had a revolver right after the murders…?

-

It can only be you!

-

“Graves-san brought a revolver to the battle royale…! Are you saying that the missing revolver and the revolver that Graves-san brought are the same weapon?”

 “Full points! If that was all Mademoiselle Graves was in possession of the revolver, then it means that she went to the Ultimate Romance Expert’s lab after the murders and took the gun from Herr Kurohiko. If that isn’t enough evidence to indict her, then what is?”

 “Ohhhhhh noooooooo!” Graves-san exaggerated with a flat tone, “…soooo?”

 “You’re still saying ‘so’ after hearing that?!” Okanaya-kun growled.

 “If you wanna know how I got the revolver then I’ll tell you. I was chilling by the fountain and I heard something fall into the bushes around the side of the talent building. When I investigated, I found the gun. I figure that it was probably Doi disposing of the gun right before he was murdered.”

“You found a gun in the bushes and didn’t even investigate further?!” Amaterasu-san barked.

 “I had prior commitments! I couldn’t go wandering off at such a crucial time. Plus, the perfect weapon just fell into my lap for the battle royale. No way I wasn’t using it.” Graves-san reasoned.

 “I’m calling so much bullshit on this! There’s no way any of what you just said was true!” Okanaya-kun yelled.

 “Besides, even if I’m lying you still have another issue. Namely, how I could’ve possibly gotten from the third floor to the fountain in less than five minutes. Sure, I admit I could’ve run from the entrance of the building to the fountain in less than a minute, but all those stairs are another story.”

 “Th-that’s…” Kirishima-san frowned.

 “I know you guys aren’t used to Ryuu being wrong whenever he makes an accusation, but he’s missed the mark this time around. Sorry to say that I’m really not the killer. Or, what? You want to examine my statements again?”

 “Actually, I would.” I said, “after coming this far, I can drop it until I’m satisfied with the answers. I’ll explore this possibility until every possible route has been mapped out.”

 Graves-san sighed, “Fine. Have it your way. If you wanna pursue this until you’re satisfied, don’t come crying when you don’t like the truth.” Don’t like the truth? What’s that supposed to mean? No…there’s no point in trying to make sense of what she’s saying. I just have to focus on this trial.

 -Non-Stop Debate (6)-

Truth Bullets/Lie Bullets

Sound Experiment/Sound Heard

4-Way Battle Royale/Abandoned Meeting

Ultimate Secret Agent’s Lab/Ultimate Paranormal Investigator’s Lab

Orange Powder/White Powder

Ultimate Assassin’s Lab/Ultimate Explorer’s Lab

Room Setup/Trashed Room

 Karma: If you’re so worried about that gun, I’ll have you know that I found it in the bushes after hearing it fall into them.

 Amaterasu: That’s such a bullshit excuse, you seriously think we’ll believe that? There must be evidence on how you got the gun!

 Karma: Duh if there was it would’ve been presented already! That’s not even the biggest problem. There’s still the issue of how I could have gotten from the 3rd floor to the fountain in less than five minutes. Even I’m not that fast.

 Yuuki: You definitely could have used a tool to get down from the 3rd floor quickly.

 Karma: Keep deluding yourself, broski.

 Ryuu: (I refuse to let this go. I know there’s a light at the end of this tunnel as long as I keep searching!)

I agree with that!

-

“…Kurosaki-san is right. Graves-san used a tool to get from the 3rd floor of the talent building to the ground, giving her enough time to get to the fountain in that five-minute time period. All she had to do was use the grappling hook that’s in her lab.”

 “Oh yeah, you did say there was a grappling hook in there, didn’t you? So, Graves used that?” Okanaya-kun said.

 “If she attached the hook to the window on the 3rd floor, she could descend to the ground easily. This is the solution to the time problem you presented, Graves-san!”

 “Does it though?” She asked, “I mean, sure. Logically if I did all of that, then it would all be sorted out. But isn’t there a few problems with the theory? For starters, I can hide a gun in my jacket, but the grappling hook is a totally different story! It’s waaaaaay too big to carry around without someone noticing me carrying something of that size!”

 “Couldn’t she have hidden it in the bushes?” Amaterasu-san suggested.

 “In theory! However, it meant I would have to go all the way to the ground floor during the investigation period, grab the grappling hook from the bushes and then get back to my lab on the 4th floor without being caught. Do you seriously think that’s possible with everybody moving about?”

 “You’re the Ultimate Secret Agent though, it’s not impossible.” Sly-san argued.

 “But…Kurosaki and I were at the entrance for almost all of the investigation. We didn’t find anything like a grappling hook, and we didn’t see Graves out there either.” Okanaya-kun said.

 “Then maybe she left it attached to the window!” Kirishima-san suggested.

 “Sure, let’s look at that theory! The three possible labs I could have used would be Doi’s, Junpei’s, and Sly’s. But those are impossible. Sly ran away to check his lab when we all discovered the body, so he totally would have noticed the grappling hook attached to the window. Junpei was in his lab the whole time, so I wouldn’t have been able to use it no matter how sneaky I was. Plus, Junpei’s lab window faces onto the courtyard so we couldn’t have entered the building without spotting it.”

 “And we don’t really need to go over why descending from the crime scene would have been a bad idea.” I admitted. Seriously…? What the hell?

 “Wh-what about descending from the 2nd floor?” Okanaya-kun said.

 “If you want that timeframe to work, I would have needed to descend from the 3rd floor. I didn’t have time to go to the 2nd floor. Meaning no matter how you cut it, I couldn’t have done it! It’s impossible!”

 “No!” How…? Did I seriously get it wrong? But how does that make any sense? Nobody else could have gotten the pistol except for Graves-san. What am I missing? What am I not thinking of?

 “Calm down, Nagata. You’re stressing out too much.”

 “Okanaya-kun?”

 “Maybe it’s blind faith, but you ain’t steered us wrong yet. So…something’s fishy here. I dunno what yet, but there’s definitely a way to make this all make sense! You just gotta throw a theory out there until it sticks!”

 “A theory…until it sticks?” I repeated.

 “That’s incredibly stupid.” Sly-san deadpanned.

 “So stupid that’s it on brand.” Amaterasu-san added.

 “But he’s right, isn’t he…?” Kirishima-san said.

 “Yeah. It’s totally like our Okanaya-kun to say something like that.” I smiled.

 “O-oi! Why are you all talking like I’m not here?!” Okanaya-kun growled.

 “For now, let’s try it out. If we’re just throwing out theories, then we can just say whatever lame thing comes to our head.” Kurosaki-san said. “Right! Time to get into the mind of Herr Okanaya. I’m a little scared to see what comes from this.”

 “Asshole, I’ll punch you!”

 -Non-Stop Debate (7)-

Truth Bullets/Lie Bullets

Asano-san’s Gun/Asano-san’s Knife

Kurohiko-san’s Gun/Kurohiko-san’s Knife

Orange Powder/White Powder

Sly-san’s Account/Sly-san’s Mistake

Firecrackers/Fireworks

Room Divider/Empty Room

 Karma: Y’know, I think this is by far the dumbest thing you’ve all agreed to do.

 Yuuki: Never doubt how dumb we can get! Now, where to start?

 Rina: Maybe the killer used a set-up to clean up the evidence after they left!

 Amaterasu: Or the killer can turn invisible. That would be cool.

 Sly: A stupid idea…? Maybe they messed with evidence in an unnecessary way?

 Yuuki: Hey! That’s way too intelligent a suggestion! You have to think like Okanaya!

 Sly: I’d rather not.

 Kobo: You’re all a bunch of bullies!

 Ryuu: (Ah…wait a second, what was it that person said? Could it be…?)

I agree with that!

-

“Sly-san…you’re right. The killer messed with the crime scene in a weird way. Kurohiko-san’s gun is the BB-gun, which was swapped out for the revolver he used in the duel with Asano-san…why did the killer do that? Surely it would have made more sense to swap the revolver with the pistol…”

 “What do you mean?” Kirishima-san asked.

 “If you swapped the revolver with the pistol then you could have some ground to argue some kind of double suicide or even murder-suicide case. Either Kurohiko-san kills Asano-san, swaps their guns, then kills himself, or they both kill themselves from the start.”

 “The bullets would then match the guns they were found with, if Kurohiko was holding the pistol. That’s a good point.” Sly-san agreed.

 “Right. But they didn’t swap it with the pistol, they used a BB-gun. They used a 4th, completely unrelated gun. Why? There would be no advantage to doing that.”

 “Unless the 4th gun wasn’t unrelated.” Kurosaki-san said as he bit into his nail, “but that would mean…surely not…Nagata, what would the most logical reason be for there to be a 4th gun involved in this case?”

 The most logical reason?

…no. “No, Kurosaki-san-“

 “N-Nagata-kun?” Kirishima-san said nervously. If he wants the most logical reason for a 4th gun to be involved, then is he seriously implying that…?

-

My logic follows!

-

“…a 4th person? Kurosaki-san, are you implying that there’s-“

 “An accomplice. At this point, it might be the only logical explanation for all the things that don’t add up.” Kurosaki-san said.

 “H-hold on a damn minute! There can’t be an accomplice, don’t you remember the rules? The only person who gets to graduate is the one that kills somebody else! An accomplice gets nothing out of helping a culprit!” Okanaya-kun reminded us.

 “What if the accomplice didn’t care about that rule?” Sly-san suggested. “This is a killing game. Thinking within the confines of the rules will limit our ability to judge properly. Especially seeing as this is the only explanation that seems to make sense. And either way, Graves is involved in this case.”

 I only became aware of it there, in tandem with the tapping foot, Graves-san was drumming her fingers on her podium, “Are you serious? You’re so desperate to pin this on me that you’re gonna fabricate an accomplice. The culprit might have put the BB-gun without calculating the implications of putting it there.”

 “That doesn’t change the fact that they could only get the pistol from your lab. You’re involved. As the culprit or as the accomplice, I’m not sure yet.” Sly-san said.

 “Y-you think Graves-san might not be the culprit?!” Kirishima-san exclaimed.

 “It’s a possibility. And this killer definitely knew what they wanted to do with the crime scene. A few ways they tampered with it show that much.” Sly-san said. By the way the killer tampered with the crime scene, he means…

-

Here’s my proof!

-

“The room divider had an extra bullet hole. At the very least, the killer knew they wanted to spin the idea that they died in the shootout. This killer knew how they wanted to sabotage the crime scene.”

 “Right. This was either planned ahead, or one of them knew exactly how to set up the scene afterwards.” Sly-san agreed.

 “…honestly. I think it’s obvious who Graves’ partner in crime is, right? We shouldn’t beat around the bush. There’s only one person she’d convince to help her.” Okanaya-kun said.

 …the accomplice or the culprit? Either way, the one Graves-san did all this with has to be…

-

The culprit…is you!

-

“Yokozawa-san, you’ve been quiet for a long time now.”

 Yokozawa-san was hugging himself tightly, if he were any paler, he’d turn transparent. “M-m-me? C-c’mon…y-you’re joking or something, r-r-right?”

 “Yokozawa-san, you were there with Graves-san when Kurohiko-san was killed, weren’t you? You helped Graves-san tamper with the scene afterwards, and you hid the pistol and grappling hook, right?” I asked.

 “Th-that’s ridiculous…I…I wouldn’t…” He attempted to form any kind of sentence as his legs shook underneath him, threatening to give out any second.

 “Nagata-kun, doesn’t Yokozawa-kun have an alibi?! How could he have taken part in this?!” Kirishima-san objected.

 “No, Junpei-chan’s alibi came from Karma-chan, remember? Karma-chan was the only one to claim that Junpei-chan was in his lab at the time of the murder. But now that we know she was assisting in the murder, that alibi doesn’t exist anymore.” Amaterasu-san said.

 “N-no! I really was in my lab! I swear it!” Yokozawa-san yelled, “B-besides, there’s no evidence of another person being at the crime scene! The gun…that’s just a baseless claim on its own! You can’t prove anything with that alone!”

 “Just denial then? Fine, we’ll break through it.” Sly-san said. “I’m sick of this trial, its been going on way too long. Let’s hurry up and get this done.”

 Don’t shrug me off!

-

“You’re wrong, I’m telling you! Don’t just decide for yourself that I’m involved! I have nothing to do with this! I just stayed in my lab the whole time, I swear, so please believe me!” Yokozawa-san pleaded.

 -Rebuttal Showdown Vs. Junpei Yokozawa-

Truth Blades:

Note on Asano-san’s Body

Note on Kurohiko-san’s Body

Asano-san’s Gun

Kurohiko-san’s Gun

Firecrackers

 Junpei:  It’s not me! It’s not me! It’s not me! I didn’t do anything wrong; I swear! I was in my lab at the time of the murder, I didn’t have anything to do with those deaths, so please believe me already! I don’t wanna dieeee!!

 Ryuu: Yokozawa-san, you need to talk calmly, or we can’t learn anything! If you’re not the culprit then you need to argue it!

 Junpei: I…I can’t be the culprit! I can’t be the culprit! Nothing places me at the scene! And even more to that point…there’s no real evidence of a 4th person being involved! So, you can’t claim I have anything to do with this!

I’ll cut through that argument!

-

 “Yokozawa-san, whether you want to admit it or not, there’s definitely evidence of a 4th person being there. We covered the note found on Asano-san’s body earlier and how it was probably sent between Kurohiko-san and Asano-san, however, we haven’t covered the note on Kurohiko-san’s body.”

 “A…note on Kurohiko-kun’s body?” Yokozawa-san repeated.

 “I'm scared he's going to kill her; we need to put a stop to this before another trial can occur.” Sly-san recited, “yes, it was in Kurohiko’s pocket.”

 “…what?” Yokozawa-san’s expression seemed lost. Further than disbelief.

 “It implies that whoever sent the note knew that somebody was going to die very soon. It wouldn’t make sense for Kurohiko or Asano to have sent it seeing as they never seemed to be planning to stop another murder plot. If anything, it seems like this was an exchange between the culprit and their accomplice.” Sly-san theorised.

 “If Graves sent that to Yokozawa, then isn’t it totally possible that Yokozawa went there without any plans to kill? It just kinda happened…?” Okanaya-kun suggested.

 “It’s possible. Seeing Doi-chan with the gun and Mami-chan dead, maybe Junpei-chan panicked and…” Amaterasu-san’s voice trailed off.

 “That’s…where did you get that note…?” Yokozawa-san asked.

 “Like I said, Kurohiko-“

 “You…can’t be serious…why would that…? A-and the BB-gun? It was a BB-gun? Not a handgun?”

 “It was modelled to look like a handgun, but it wasn’t real.”

 “Yokozawa-kun?” Kirishima-san said.

 “No…no no no…no, this can’t be happening…” He murmured to himself, clutching his head, “This isn’t happening. I’m just gonna wake up any second now, right? After all, even after all that, even if there’s an accomplice, there’s no evidence It was me…ah, that’s right…”

 “Huh?” I said.

 “Th-there’s no evidence that the accomplice was me! It could have just as easily have been Amaterasu-san or Kirishima-san! You have nothing to link me to this!” Yokozawa-san laughed, throwing his arms out to the side. No, there’s evidence to connect Yokozawa-san, I’m sure. In fact, there’s that strange piece of evidence we found all over the crime scene…

-

Here’s my proof!

-

“No…there’s evidence. Unlikely evidence, but evidence, nonetheless. Yokozawa-san when I bumped into you by the fountain the other day you were carrying food to your lab. Not just any food, it was bags upon bags of cheese balls.”

 “Wh-…so?! Are you gonna criticise my diet?!” Yokozawa-san snarled.

 “Not at all. What I’m interested in finding out is how much cheese dust would get on your skin and clothes after eating all of those bags after all this time. After all, there were traces of orange powder found all over the crime scene.”

 “Orange powder…? Fuck off, are you seriously suggesting that the orange powder was from some cheese balls?!” Sly-san said.

 “You didn’t see the amount of bags Yokozawa-san was carrying, if enough of it stuck to his clothes, then it would be impossible for him to have messed with the crime scene without some of the cheese dust fallen from his clothes. It’s stupid, but it’s what happened.”

 “What, so you’re saying Yokozawa didn’t change the whole time he was there?” Sly-san said.

 Yokozawa-san’s face flushed as he tried to speak, “W-well…the thing about that is, um…you know how whenever you plan for something there’s always one thing you forget…?”

 “Gross!” Okanaya-kun grimaced.

 “The main one I remember if that there were some traces of the orange powder on Asano-san herself, if Yokozawa-san was tampering with the crime scene while Graves-san was running back to the fountain, then it would Yokozawa-san shot through the room divider with Asano-san’s gun. That was probably when the powder got on Asano-san’s clothes.”

 “That would also explain why the other bullet hole didn’t match up with Kurohiko’s wound. After all, Graves would have easily been able to make those line up.” Sly-san said, “and then Yokozawa must have also set off the firecrackers.”

 “Huh…the firecrackers?” Yokozawa-san said, “Th…that’s impossible. Yeah! Hold on, that’s definitely impossible for me! I would needed to set off the firecrackers by the entrance, right? But don’t firecrackers have short fuses? If I set them off, I would have needed to rush all the way back up those flights of stairs and get into my talent lab without any of you catching up to you. I’m not exactly against saying I’m not the athletic type.”

 “We were searching the other labs though. You had plenty of time to get back to your own.” I argued.

 “I couldn’t have known you would do that! Do you think I’m dumb enough to take that kind of chance if I was involved?! There’s no way I would take that chance!”

 “Then…it just means you did some other way! There must have been some way for Yokozawa-kun to have done it without getting caught!” Kirishima-san said. Right, I’m sure this is the last line of arguments that Yokozawa-san has. Once I break through here, there will only be one question left to answer…

 -Argument Armament Vs. Junpei Yokozawa-

 Junpei: I’m not the culprit and I’m not the accomplice! I just stayed in my room, I was trying to figure out the wi-fi password, remember?! There’s no way I’d want anything to do with Kurohiko-kun’s murder! I liked Kurohiko-kun and Asano-san! I’m innocent, I’m telling you!

Junpei: I didn’t set off those firecrackers, I couldn’t have gotten back to my lab before you all caught up with me, right?! It’s all inconclusive, and I won’t accept anything that doesn’t 100%, no! 1000% proves my involvement!

Junpei: Why am I getting treated like this?! Graves-san is the suspicious one, right?! No matter how you look at it, I’m not the one that should be getting grilled like this! I’m innocent, I’m innocent, I’m innocent! I’m way too weak to kill anybody, even Kurohiko-kun! I could never fire a gun! I couldn’t do it!

 Ryuu: This is the end!

 Junpei: How could I have set off the firecrackers?!

From the 3rd floor window!

-

“It was easy to set off the firecrackers without getting caught. If you just opened a window on the 3rd floor and dropped them from there, the problem of getting caught would be gone.”

 “Gh…!”

 “It’s unlikely he used his own lab window because we would have seen the flash. Most likely he set off the firecrackers at the same time he retrieved the grappling hook for Karma-chan.” Amaterasu-san reasoned. “You…you two killed Doi-chan. You two made Mami-chan’s sacrifice mean nothing. If you think I’ll ever forgive you-“

 “Hold on. There’s still one more crucial thing we need to make clear. Graves-san, Yokozawa-san…which one of you two was holding the pistol that killed Kurohiko-san?” I asked. Graves-san and Yokozawa-san looked at each other for a moment.

 “You…you lied to me-“

 “Don’t say something unnecessary-“

 “I killed Kurohiko-kun. But there’s a lot more to it than just that. So…if you’ll hear me out, I’d really appreciate it.”

 “I said stop!” Graves-san’s tone suddenly changed. She was pleading to Yokozawa-san. “Whatever he says is a lie! I killed Doi!”

 “No, she didn’t…urk, I can’t even explain it properly. Look, Graves-san was the one that swapped the BB-gun and revolver so clearly, she never held the pistol. Not to mention there’s no way I would have put that note in Kurohiko-kun’s pocket, I didn’t even touch Kurohiko-kun’s body. I would let Graves-san touch the pistol; I was too scared to let it go. Graves-san gave me a list of things I should take care of at the crime scene. I threw that list away but it’s in my lab, sitting in my trash can.”

 “What the hell…did you seriously not plan to kill him…?” Okanaya-kun asked.

 “Of course not! But…I thought he was coming at me when I saw him with that gun and then Graves-san and I shot at the same time…! I didn’t know which one of us killed him! I got scared and then…then Graves-san just started tampering and then produced that list and said she had to leave…”

 “You bitch, you fuckin’ trick him into this and then leave him to it?!” Okanaya-kun growled.

 “It’s all a lie, he’s lying!” Graves-san denied.

 “You orchestrated everything…but despite that, the one that killed Herr Kurohiko was Herr Yokozawa…which means he’s the one we have to vote for.” Kurosaki-san tipped down his hat.

 “I know…I know…b-but it’s fine. I just want this to be over…” Yokozawa-san looked at his feet, “I even stopped shaking. Funny how that works out.”

 Yokozawa-san…”Alright. Let’s finish this off, I’ll go over this case again just to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

This is the truth of the incident!

-

Act 1

This particular case starts off with one of our victims themselves. Kurohiko-san realised that pretty soon the oxygen concentration would be past the point of no return so he communicated to Asano-san that he had a plan and told her to meet him in his room in the talent building at 10:30. After night-time. Asano-san agreed to meet him and went to the room at the appointed time, then Kurohiko-san presented Asano-san with his plan: a shootout where only one of them would survive. A sacrifice in order for everybody to survive. Asano-san must have understood that there was no way to save everybody with this motive, so she agreed. The two set up the divider in the room and then walked their 10 paces before shooting. Kurohiko-san managed to shoot before Asano-san could raise her gun, I presume, killing her instantly and leaving a hole in the divider. What he couldn't have anticipated was the next series of events.

Act 2

A little beforehand, our culprit, or rather, the real ringmaster behind this case, had managed to catch wind of Kurohiko-san's plan and followed him to the meeting. Learning the objective, they first went to Yokozawa-san's lab to grab Yokozawa-san, telling him that Kurohiko-san was plotting to kill Asano-san and that they had to stop him. They rushed to their own lab and took one real pistol and a BB-gun. This was the moment the ringmaster tricked Yokozawa-san, giving him the real gun but telling him they were both BB-guns.

Act 3

The two made their way upstairs, at the same time Kurohiko-san had just finished killing Asano-san and was leaving the room only to be confronted by the ringmaster and Yokozawa-san. Being caught red-handed with the gun, the ringmaster ordered Yokozawa-san to shoot and at the same time...he and the ringmaster shot their weapons at Kurohiko-san. Of course, the ringmaster's gun just fired a pellet. The bullet from Yokozawa-san's hit Kurohiko-san in the heart, killing him instantly.

Act 4

Yokozawa-san must have freaked out when Kurohiko-san died but the ringmaster was quick to act. They convinced Yokozawa-san that they couldn’t tell who the real culprit was. So, the two worked together to stage it like Asano-san and Kurohiko-san had gone out in a double-suicide. The ringmaster for the case have Yokozawa-san a list of things he needed to do to set up the crime scene, this included using Asano-san's gun to shoot a second hole in the divider but the problem  was that Yokozawa-san didn’t know where to shoot for the bullet to line up with Kurohiko-san’s heart. In addition, Yokozawa-san couldn’t have known that the ringmaster was actually swapping out Kurohiko-san's gun with a BB-gun, otherwise he would have realised the truth much sooner.

Act 5

Then, the ringmaster took the grappling hook they had on them already from their talent lab and used it to quickly descend from the third floor and rushed to the central fountain before anybody else turned up for the battle royale. They never bothered hiding the revolver because they could simply use it in the fight and nobody would think anything of it. All that was left to create the fake alibi by having Yokozawa-san drop the firecrackers from his room.

 Maybe officially it says Yokozawa-san's the culprit, but the one really responsible for orchestrating this whole murder plot is you...Karma Graves, The Ultimate Secret Agent!

-

 “And that’s the truth behind this whole case. Did I get anything wrong?”

 “No, not really. It’s pretty much like you said.” Yokozawa-san admitted. I looked at Graves-san but she kept her gaze fixed on the floor, “I…I wish I knew why this all had to happen. I just don’t get why, Graves-san? Why did you do it all…?”

 “…do you realise what it’s like to want to save someone but also want to see them dead?” Graves-san murmured.

 “Huh?” Yokozawa-san turned to her.

 “It doesn’t matter anymore. Let’s just get on with it, that’s what always happens at this point, y’know?” Graves-san said.

 “Is this really okay? To vote with how things are?” Kirishima-san asked.

 “I think so. I don’t think they’re lying anymore. I really think we’ve reached the end this time around.” Kurosaki-san said.

 “Are you definitely sure this time? Geez, this took a long time to get to, but you know the drill! Pick who you believe is the culprit from the buttons in front of you! It’s time to pick your culprit, will you make the right choice, or the dreadfully wrong one? What’s it gonna be? Who’s it gonna be?!” Monokuma cackled as we all silently locked in our answers.

 The roulette wheel lowered and begin to spin around before landing on Yokozawa-san’s face. The usual bouquets of flowers popped out and the coins poured out like a waterfall to celebrate the end of the trial and the results of the voting.

 The fourth trial was over.

[ansgar-martinsson]

The Best Intentions - Part 4

“Well,” Ansgar set his pint down and folded his hands deliberately upon the table. “My business philosophy has always been one of going above and beyond the least. The least isn’t good enough, you see. Even, sometimes, my best isn’t…,” his hesitation was involuntary, but he recovered, tipping his chin beneath a haughty, prideful expression, “my best isn’t good enough… in my estimation.”

He shrugged, reaching for his pint and once again bringing it to his lips. “So, Joline Lindberg,” he took a sip of his beer and licked his lips, “what I am saying – what I am proposing, is that I… that Martinsson Construction, that is, provides you… the Stockholm Opera House, that is… with funding, some amount that you and I agree upon to meet some need for the gala. Whatever need isn’t met yet, whether it be the catering, or something structural, or transport, or security, or music, or, whatever it is where you see a need,” he set his glass back down again, punctuating his point, “I will provide it - not only the money but the manpower, the assitance.”

“So,” he said, his grin broad and honest. “What do you say to that sort of thing? Not an obligation, then, but a…,” he squinted in momentary thought, “a partnership?”

And with that, he held out his hand to her.

“A partnership,” she whispered reverently. The offer was more than she ever hoped to gain by borrowing her mother’s car and burgled shoes. It represented more than she sought to gain from meetings with Wiessing. “That’s a triumph for Career Jo!”

To a symphony of clinking glasse, scraping silverware and chatting people, Joline noticed a gentle breeze wafted her hand into his. Heartily she gripped and shook, “I’d love that really.”

His handshake was powerful, and his hand hot, strong and oddly tender. A silent force, but active reserve in play. He could use them to handle delicate china or deliver untold devastation.

“So this gala of yours, when is it? How can I help?” Ansgar Martinsson inquired after their hands lingered slight longer than custom.

Jo sat back beaming at the win for the Opera House. “Uh, same night as our season debut, the seventh of September. In the lobby. My staff has most everything sorted, being that it’s only a few weeks from now.”

Ansgar produced his mobile from the hidden breast pocket of his blazer. Swiping those long graceful fingers over the display, he entered some personal notes. “Please got on. I’m listening.” His direction sounded curt and clipped, but his tone was soft, sure and non-threatening.

Jo admired his directness, his business sense and his ability to multitask. He asked appropriate questions as Jo rattled off many of the details that she recalled from memory. The caterer had been scheduled, the staff to serve drinks, musicians hired, security increased and a photographer hired.

Ansgar gestured for the waiter to refill their drinks while he continued to make notes or sent succinct messages to Britta.

“I do have an idea – well, several to be fair – for the gala,” Jo finally circled round. “And beyond actually. I wanted to hold an auction, silent or grand – I’m still thinking it through. Fund raising for future projects in and around the Opera House.”

He’d put down his mobile to dedicate all of his attention to her plan. His legs stretched out underneath the table, one ankle crossed over the other. He watched as she got more excited.

“That’s where I need you,” she met his direct gaze. “Your contacts, your posh friends and business associates and their deep pockets. Come to the gala and bid up past costumes or set pieces or props. I’d like to restore and re-imagine that little theatre in the west wing, for intimate concerts and workshops for the university. The Globe did it years ago, and it works as another revenue stream all year round. But I need funding to do that. I’ll also need you to estimate the cost of that… a goal for such an auction.”

Ansgar nodded. “I’ll start making some contacts this afternoon, get some calls going,” he said. He knew, though, with those posh friends and business associates, those contacts weren’t as strong as they’d been before he… before he left. Some of those contacts he hadn’t even reconnected with since he’d been back, others had left him some rather negative emails and voice mails after reading the news of his return.

Where the hell have you been?

Why didn’t you tell me you were back?

How fucking irresponsible can you be?

Screw you, Martinsson. I thought you were dead.

Sorry, Sgar. I’ve got a new joint venture with….

We’ve moved on. Moved on. Moved on.

He smiled, bunching up his napkin and resting it on the side of his plate. “Shall we go? I can drive you back to my office. I believe your car is still there.”

“Yeah,” she said. “My car’s still at your office.”

The woman had dreams, big ones, and she reminded him of himself. She was tenacious, ambitious, and that ambition was attractive. He found himself smiling as she talked in the car, as he listened - as she spoke of funding sources and writing grants and relationship building and plans plans and more plans.

“And when I was in America, I worked for a major university, in their theatre department. I ran the fine arts center, and spent most of my time revamping the talent schedule, getting the stage equipment updated, and… hey, have you ever been to America?”

Ansgar pulled his car into its parking spot, shoved it into gear, and turned off the ignition. “Yeah,” was all he said, his voice curt and clipped. “I’ve been.”  He unfolded himself from the car and walked around the back. He opened her door and offered her his hand.

She placed her hand in his and stood. Ansgar felt a strange chill go through him, as if he was being scanned - she’d looked up at him, her eyes narrowing with a cock of her head. She studied him for a split second that seemed an eternity. “You okay? You seem a little bit off just now.”

Ansgar swallowed, giving his head a small shake. “Yes, I’m fine,” he said. Lowering his head, he gestured widely with his left hand. “This way. Your car is in the car park upstairs.”

“Thank you for lunch,” she commented towards the taller man’s back, his loafers clicking on the smooth concrete. The mention of America triggered him, in a small way, deflated him. He tried to hide it by leading the way to the car park. “By the way…” Her feet skipped a step to meet his stride and walk beside him. “It was unexpected, productive… thank you for that!”

“You are quite welcome. It was a pleasure.” Another bland automatic response, his thoughts elsewhere.

Jo didn’t take offense, only kept a steady gait with him. “Next business meal’s on me.”

He side-eyed her to check for truth or for an extra limb or appendage. Usually, back in his other life, when women learned who Ansgar was and what he was worth, the question of payment landed on him. All the time.

The sun beamed down on them then as they stepped out from the private carport overhang to the guest lot. No third arm or extra nose on the woman… no airs, no attitudes; she just was. He wondered if she handled his moody like she did her talent.

He found a smile, a weak and surprised one, underneath the mountain of memories. “We’ll see about that,” he responded noncommittally.

“May I ask you something? It’s a bit rhetorical, a lot personal, and entirely none of my business.” The two stopped at the door of the mini, the smell of Linnea, petrol and damp wafting off the river. “This is me,” she announced with an off-hand gesture.

Ansgar surveyed the car shortly, then the woman, and then the car once more. One eyebrow cocked up in disbelief. “This is not you.”

Jo cracked a smile. “Borrowed me. My ride…” she shrugged, searching for the right phrase, “uh, not appropriate for the skirt.”

“Ah!”

Tucking her hair behind her ears, Jo turned fully to her companion as they stood in the summer sun as it pressed down into them. She glanced at her feet, digging her hands deep into the rear pockets of her jeans.

Ansgar dared, as he always would regardless the woman, a trailing stare down her body. While she contemplated her shoes against the pavement, he drank in her long legs, firm thighs, and curve of her breasts, accentuated by the strain of black cotton. He yanked his focus from her just as she looked up again.

“I was gonna say… gonna ask,” she clicked her tongue against her teeth, losing some of her nerve. She’d be disappointed in herself if she didn’t speak her mind. “You said that you’d been away,” she squinted in curiosity, “Are you happy being home? Are you happy here?”

His nostrils flared. His lips pressed together into a tight straight line. The entitlement… the brazen…

Her hands flew up to beg mercy. “It’s none of my damn business. Don’t answer. Only food for thought… rhetorical, ‘member?” Another shrug lifted her shoulder, this one offered up in apology. “Thank you again for lunch… and your attention. Truly.” She produced her business card from her back pocket and slipped it into the pocket of his blazer.

“Ring me, won’t you? When you schedule work in the theatre? I’ll be there to help, yeah?” She didn’t let his silence get to her. “I’d fancy a lesson so I know what to look for… in the future.”

Jo felt that she’d shocked him enough for their first meeting. She voted against a friendly gesture of a kiss on each cheek. He seemed so in need of something nice, something pleasant, but she perhaps wasn’t the right person to extend that. Not yet.

She folded herself into the car, waving out the oppressive heat. “Until next time, Herr Martinsson.”

“Until next time, Froken Lindberg,” he said, giving her a polite bow of the head. He set his hand on the car frame, but it was she who closed it, leaning over and pulling the door closed with a tinny thunk. He lifted the same hand in a gesture of farewell as she started the small car, put it into gear, looked over her shoulder and backed it out, shifting again to drive away.

He lowered his hand as he watched after her for a moment. “No, if you must know,” he murmured. “I’m not happy being home. I’m not happy here. I’m not happy anywhere. Not yet at least.”

And he turned on his heel and strode back into his building.

***

Later, in the early evening, after he’d spent hours on the phone (angrily and heatedly lecturing… threatening… his sprinkler subcontractor, warning his surety agent, seeking counsel from his construction solicitor, chewing out his mechanical engineer, and instructing his public relations manager with regard to the gala) and another few hours bent over Opera House plans and specs, he sat back, yawned, and stretched. “Oh, fuck,” he moaned. “Fuck this all to hell.”

He hadn’t anticipated spending the entire day on the Opera House. He hadn’t anticipated coming back to face a shit-storm like he was facing, both physically with the coordination of work, or on a public relations level. What would it do for the press to learn that Martinsson Construction’s flagship project for the past three and a half years had sprung massive leaks? What would it do indeed?

It would do a massive pile of fuck all, that’s what it’d do.

Or perhaps, he thought he had anticipated it. He’d trusted his staff – or perhaps, when he left all that time ago, he hadn’t even given it any thought as to whether he could trust anyone who would carry on the business in his absence. He simply didn’t care, not then. There were other things to care about. Or not.

Perhaps he should have cared.

He’d left no note, no word, no nothing to the Board, only a quick email from a new, nondescript and untraceable Gmail account to his solicitors, telling them that he was taking leave from his position as CEO for the foreseeable future, that they should put the temporary succession plan in place, and that he would advise upon his return.

What else could he have expected?

And from Joline Lindberg? What more should I expect?

He shook his head, taken aback by the thought of her that slithered its way into his tired mind. The image of her, her anticipatory grin, those curves tightly wrapped in that pair of jeans, that blacker than black shirt showing off every bit of her, of her on that motorcycle she talked about, and… Damn it!

He scrubbed at his face, coursing his hands down to stretch his skin, his mouth gaping open as his fingers pulled down on the edge of his jaw to curve around and pull at the tight, aching flesh of his neck.

… and then he closed his eyes, and the thought of her invaded again. He found his fingers splayed, pressing lower, down his chest, over his stomach to his groin and…

Fuck! No! No fucking way!

He shook his hand violently. “She’s a client, you arse,” he muttered, sneering in self-disgust. “Dickhead.”  He woke up his computer, and opened his emails. Something to do, something to get his mind off of…

FROM: j.lindberg@StockholmOpera.se

Ansgar sighed, chuckled mirthlessly to himself, and opened the email.

Jo slumped further into her computer chair, one foot tucked under her and the other poised on the lip. She bobbed her head, her chin brushing her knee. She chewed absently on the end of her pen, reading over her email… again. The screensaver popped up and littered her document with digital air-borne balloons, bouncing this way and that. A sign from some almighty spirit to save her from, in fact, confirming her brand of crazy for the man that she spent most of her afternoon.

Her mouth spluttered around her pen as she tried to call out to her mother. “Mamma?” she spat, her tongue falling out of her mouth momentarily. She threw the oral fixation aside and tried again, “Mamma?” She called blindly through the house from the comfort of her office, which was little more than a closet. She kept her desk, chair, laptop and a poster of The Globe in London on her wall. To this day, her favorite gig she’d ever done, and it was only a fortnight workshop.

“Joly, I’m… fine.”

“Are ya? Really? Can I get something for ya?” She untangled her limbs and padded along the champagne colored rug.

“No, no… Joly, I’m fine.”

Jo followed the sound of her mother’s voice to her room at the opposite of end of the hallway. She found the woman in her favorite chair near the window, knitting another scarf or booties or mittens for her grandsons that the eight year olds had outgrown about four years ago. “Did you take your meds, mamma?”

“You didn’t need to come in here. I heard yer mouth.”

Choosing to ignore the snark, Jo bent and kissed her mother’s forehead. She did it every night, not only as an ‘I love you’ but also to check her temperature subtly. Her mother hated the fuss, and Jo adapted her behavior to it. “Did you take your meds?”

“Yeah, yeah… I have. What are you working on in there?” Emelie jerked her head towards the door, her fingers working like magic, over and under, cross and weaving, gracing the yarn in a spell.

“Proving to my… partner… that I am as mad as he believes me to be.”

“Brilliant pastime, my dear.”

Jo checked over her mother’s levels and notes from earlier in the day before her treatments. She said nothing, only noted it to herself. She felt just a pang of guilt for not having gone with her to hospital that day.

“Joly, come away from there. I’m fine.” Her needles clicked and danced, progressing along whatever project it was.

“I’m going with you for the next—“

“Joly, torturing your… partner with your neurosis is time better spent than bothering over me.”

“Neuroses if you please, mamma.”

With that, Jo exited her mother’s room and headed back to her office to reconsider sending that email once more. She dropped into her chair just as she had before, swiping her middle finger over the touchpad to rouse it and chase away the balloons.

She read:

TO: amartinsson@martinsson.co.se                       20:33pm  1 attachment

Herr Martinsson,

Please forgive the unexpected email AND the Stanley person who gave me your email. Not to worry, I don’t believe it was his true identity and you’ll be pleased to know that he didn’t give it up without a fight. Your employees do respect your privacy to the utmost.

I had some additional thoughts regarding the Opera House because I needed the distraction more than anything else. I sat down at my computer and wrote a formal proposal, see attached. I assumed that you would like some sort of project proposal and a contract between us. An understanding, if you will.

If you’d like to email me back, I’d appreciate knowing if you’re available, if you’re open to more ravings of a lunatic…

Or you can tell me to bugger off in your colorful way. I await your response.

Yours,

Joline Lindberg

And then she foolishly hit send.

[reidandweep]

New Milestones

Otis Milburn x Reader (female)

A/N- I am sorry that part 4 is so late. I have just been caught up with college and I found myself kind of stuck with where I wanted this part to go. I hope you enjoy.

Word Count- 3026 words

Warnings- Fluff, and talks of sexually related subjects, talks of alcohol.

Previously on New Faces/Feelings/Confessions...

“No problem. Now let’s see how good you are at Smash Bros.” Quickly leaning over, he placed a kiss on her lips once more. As he leaned back, she grabbed his face. Turning the peck into something lightly longer. Pulling apart she started the game. “I can get used to this.” Y/N said. Otis smiled, watching as she chose her character. He could get used to this too.

One month. It had been one month since Y/N and Otis had confessed their feelings. One month since they had made out for the first time. One month since their friendship started the path of something more. However, they were still just friends. Friends who occasionally kissed, made out, held hands etc. All their friends couldn’t understand why they weren’t together yet. But Otis wanted things to work out. He didn’t want to go to fast into things and have either one of them regret it. They were both happy how they were. Neither were seeing other people. They definitely weren’t sleeping around. Just because they weren’t “official’ did not mean they were going to mess around with other people. Sitting at their table, in their free period, the ‘clinic’ discussed the plans for Otis’ birthday. With Maeve on her right and Otis on her left, Y/N scribbled down the ideas that were being thrown back and forth.   “I say we go clubbing. Oatmeal’s gonna be 18. Who doesn’t love drinking alcohol in a claustrophobic stinky nightclub full of perverts and drunks?” Eric seconded Maeve’s idea. “Exactly Otis. We are all finally 18, we can drink legally, get tattoos, vote. We can do so much now and not get into trouble.”

Otis shook his head. He had never liked alcohol. The smell created flashbacks of his father and his patients in uncompromising positions. He did not want to relieve those memories whilst in a confined space, surrounded by people drunk and high. As his friends carried on discussing ideas, Otis turned his gaze to Y/N. She had been unusually quiet during the discussion; opting to write down what each person suggested. She must have gotten bored as when Otis looked down at her notebook, she was doodling Otis’ name, surrounded by hearts and the number 18. The boy smiled, warmth spreading throughout his chest. Nudging her side to grab her attention, Otis waited until Y/N’s eyes caught his own. The girl jumped from the sudden contact, turning to face the boy. Instantly a soft smile radiated from her. Knowing he had seen her writing his name, she giggled. Chuckling at her response to his stare, Otis placed his hand in his lunch, pulling out the yogurt and grapes he had particularly packed for her. In the time she had visited his home, the amount of grapes, yogurt, and chewing gum had increased. For if she wasn’t eating, it was rare to never see Y/N without chewing gum in her mouth. Handing her the food, Otis smiled as she dropped her pen and opened the grape bag and the yogurt. Quickly squeezing his hand as a quick thank you, she began to eat. “Are you okay? You’re very quiet today.” Y/N looked at the boy next to her as she chewed on her food. Swallowing the grapes, she placed the rest back into the bag. Grabbing onto Otis’ hand, she began to fiddle with his fingers. It had become a habit between the two to grasp each other’s hands. She usually did this when she was feeling down or stressed. Looking at their group of friends, Y/N made sure they were still in their own discussions. “Home isn’t great at the moment and I’m stressed out about A levels and what is happening at home. Just thinking about how I just want to have a stress-free night. No shouting, no arguing, no questioning about my grades or my exams or where I have been. Even though my answer never changes.” Otis stared at Y/N intently, stroking the back of the hand that had grabbed his. Otis was aware about the problems that Y/N faced at home. With her parent’s newly divorced and with her mum and her mother’s boyfriends drinking habits escalating, she had felt a lot of stress; both at home and at school. “Well, if you would like to get away from the fighting, and have a stress-free night, you could stay at mine tonight?” Surprised was all Y/N could feel. Looking back at Otis, she could see that he was determined. No stammer in his question and no uncertainty in his look. He was not nervous, and he was not uncertain. He meant what he said. This was a big step for both of them. They had spent many days together at Otis’ house, but never any nights. With still the lack of a label on their relationship as well, this night could lead to anything. Thinking it over Y/N knew Otis offered for her to stay with pure intentions. She knew he genuinely wanted to help her. Nodding her head, she breathed out the breath she was holding. “Yeah. That would be really nice Otis.” Otis smiled, his cheeks turning a light pink. Their moment was soon cut short at the sound of gagging. Quickly turning their heads to the source of the noise, their eyes locked onto Eric. The boy quickly stopped the disgusting sounds once he caught their attention. “Have you guys finished eye-fucking each other?” Y/N rolled her eyes at the boy. Eric continued. “Whilst you two were off in wonderland, we have been coming up with ideas for Otis’ birthday. The top choices are nightclub or strip club.” Otis shook his head at his friend’s ideas. He did not want to do either. He just wanted to hang out with the people who made him happy. “Why can’t we do something like bowling or camping. Something more fun?” Adam scoffed, rolling his eyes at the boy in front of him. “Because you’re gonna be 18 Milburn. Not 8. So, go and enjoy yourself at a strip club and see all the dick and tits you want.” The group laughed at Adam’s words. All except Otis, who just shook his head in exasperation. With the sudden ringing of the bell, the group began to pack away their work. Maeve and Eric having to head to Maths as Aimee left for Art and Adam followed Eric towards his class, most likely ditching his lesson once again. Otis and Y/N on the other hand finished early on Thursdays as they both had two free periods at the end of the day. Waiting till Y/N was ready, Otis waved goodbye to his friends as they headed out of the room. It was a normal occurrence for them to hang out after school on a Thursday. Usually spending the first free period with their friends and then heading to Otis’ to chill or study for the second; and for however long after. Walking out the class, their shoulders brushing, the pair headed towards the main doors; starting the long walk to Otis’ home. Otis did not ride to school on Thursdays, so that he and Y/N could enjoy the walk. If the weather was terribly bad, then they would often grab the bus. Whilst walking up a particularly large hill, it dawned on Otis that Y/N did not have any clothes with her. “Did you want to head to yours first? So, that you can grab your things?” Thinking about how her home was most likely chaos at the moment, Y/N shook her head. Turning her face towards Otis, he could see the inner debate going on in her mind. “Or you could borrow some of mine? We could head to yours before school, so you can get changed in the morning.” A blush took over Y/N’s features. This boy. Could he be any more amazing than he already was? The answer was yes. Yes, he could. Grabbing his hand, Y/N pulled Otis towards her, leaning forwards to place a kiss on his lips. At spontaneous moments like this, they both were left a blushing bag of nerves. But it was moments like this that Y/N enjoyed the most. It showed her that Otis did really care for her. Whether they were official or just friends, she knew these moments were only between them. Pulling away their lips, but still holding each other’s hands, the pair continued their journey. Once they had arrived at Otis’ home, they easily maneuvered around the other. Taking off shoes, setting up revision supplies and snacks on the table. Doing their usual Thursday routine. Making themselves comfortable, the two decided on what they would revise and began. As always, around an hour into their session, Jean would walk in and begin to prepare dinner. Lifting her head at the sound of pots and pans, Y/N smiled towards Otis’ mother. “Good afternoon Jean.” “Good afternoon Hun. Are you staying for dinner today?” Looking towards Otis, Y/N did not know whether to tell her she was actually staying a lot longer than dinner. Otis looked just as nervous. Rolling her eyes at the boy, she stood from her chair and walked towards Jean. Preferring to ask her faced to face. Jean stopped what she was doing. Analysing the young girl’s behaviour to see that she was very nervous. A common trait to see on her son, but not his friend. “Is everything okay?” Jean questioned. Looking at the woman before her, Y/N took a deep breath. “Jean, is it okay if I can stay the night? If so, I will sleep on the sofa and I will be wide awake in the morning, to go home and get ready for school.” Looking back at the girl, Jean saw the desperation in her eyes. She had had a feeling that things at home were rough for Y/N. As her son and the young girl would always hang out here, never at her home, and often times, Y/N would ask for Jean’s opinion on matters that one would ask their parents. Grasping the girl’s arms, she pulled her into a hug, an action that had become common whenever Y/N and Jean were to see the other. Like their first meeting, this made Otis genuinely happy, as his mum had never welcomed someone into their lives as quickly as she had Y/N. “Of course, you can dear. You can stay for as ever long as you like. Don’t worry about grabbing your clothes in the morning, you have some you left here when you and Otis had that impromptu snow ball fight before Christmas.” Laughing the girl pulled away from the hug. Smiling at the older woman in front of her. She had to leave Otis’ that day in his warmest hoodie and shortest pyjama bottoms. He still had not gotten them back. She had also forgotten to collect her clothes since. It seemed her subconscious just wanted to wait, just in case they would come in handy staying in Otis’ wardrobe. During their conversation, Otis had rose from his chair, approaching the pair. Turning to see him behind her, Y/N unwrapped her arms from around Jean and situated them to fit around Otis’ waist. His arms instantly wrapping around hers as well. His large hand rubbed up and down her back in a sign of comfort. “And don’t you dare think you’re sleeping on a sofa. I trust the both of you. You’re both of age of consent and I gave Otis condoms to keep in his room whenever an occasion was to occur. Just place a sock on the door so I know not to disturb.” At the end of those words Jean left the food to simmer. Otis’ hand had stopped on the girls back as she tucked her face into his chest, a stream of laughter leaving her lips. Lifting her head from Otis’ chest, Y/N looked up at Otis with a beaming smile. Otis never thought he could become breathless from a simple look. And here he was, struggling to breath because of her smile. How disgustingly cute. Letting go of each other, the pair headed back to the table to continue studying. Time passed rather quickly in the Milburn house that day. Otis and Y/N had finished revision, cleared the table for dinner, eaten with Jean, and had headed to Otis’ room to chill for the rest of the night. Laying on his bed, opposite ways from the other, the pair had drifted into conversation about Otis’ birthday once more. Sitting up on her elbows, she looked at the boy in front of her. “So, Doctor, what do you want to do for your birthday?” Mimicking her position, Otis sat up on his elbows. With sarcasm dripping from his tone, he replied. “Don’t you remember? We’re going to a strip club to get smashed, make-out with strangers, and see, in Adams words, some tits and dicks.” Throwing her head back, a gleeful laugh escaped from Y/N’s mouth. Laughing at his words and impression of Adam. Shaking her head, she pushed herself up, standing from the bed. Turning to collect the pile of clothes at the end of the bed, laughter continued to spill from her lips. As Y/N walked towards Otis’ bathroom, she turned to face him. “No Otis. What do you want to do for your birthday? Not our friends. Not Jean. Not me. You.” Otis did not know. He hadn’t really thought. He was just going to go with what his friends and his mum had planned. Opening the bathroom door, Y/N smiled at the boy on the bed. “Well. I am going to get dressed. Have a think about it and give me an answer when I get out.” Otis breathed out an okay, watching as she closed the door. Leaning back down as she shuffled in the bathroom, Otis let his mind drift. Images of his friends, his mum, and Y/N all floating through his mind. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he did not even hear the bathroom door open and close. Otis eyes opened as he felt a pressure on his lap. Once she had emerged from the bathroom, Y/N perched herself on Otis’ lap, waiting for him to sit up. With a sense of deja vu, she swung her legs to lay each side of the boy’s hips. Pushing himself up to lean again his bed frame, Otis’ mid cast back to those few months ago, where something very similar to this moment occurred. Where they first admitted their feeling. Right here in this room. Seeing her in his clothes (a large spider man shirt and pyjama bottoms), sitting on his lap, in his bed, in his room, made him want to make her his. Officially. Playing with his hands, she looked at her ‘friend’. “Have you decided what you want to do for your birthday?” “Yeah.” “What is it then?” Licking his lips, Otis took a deep breath. “I want to ask you to be my girlfriend.” A breath caught in Y/N’s throat. Her eyes looking into his deeper. She could always tell how he was feeling by his eyes. And like before, when he asked her to stay, he was determined. And determined on Otis was a really good look. A smile quickly took over her features. Removing her hands from his, she laced them into Otis’ hair. Moving herself slightly forward on his lap. Slowly leaning in, she placed her lips onto his. Moulding them together as he reciprocated the action. Otis’ own hands unconsciously moved to hold her hips, squeezing them as the kiss became more heated. Their kiss becoming more and more feverish, until they had to part to breath. Only moving so, a breath of air could fit in between the two. He was not expected that. But he really, really liked it. Taking in deep breathes, Y/N secured her opened her eyes. Biting on her bottom lip, her eyes flickered across the boy’s face. “Well, you don’t need to wait till then to ask me.” A chuckle escaped from Otis. Shaking his head, he scratched the back of his neck. Subverting back to the nervous boy she has come to adore. Clearing his throat, he spoke. “Y/N, Will you be my girlfriend?” Giggling back at the boy, she placed her hands on both his shoulders. “Oh Otis, you didn’t need to ask. I thought I already was.” The boy laughed at the girl’s words, engulfing his arms around her waist, and pulling her down to lay on his chest. Lying flat on the bed, with Y/N laying on top of him, he leaned up to give her a kiss. Breaking things before things got too heated, Y/N rolled to this side of Otis and cuddled into him. Pulling the covers over the pair, as Otis turned off his bedside lamp. For two people who had never slept in a significant others bed before, they both fell into comfort rather quickly. With their breaths becoming deeper, they wished each other good night. “Goodnight Y/N.” Smiling up at him, she replied. “Goodnight Doc.” Quickly twisting her head to the direction of the door, Y/N bellowed. “Goodnight Jean!” A sudden crash could be heard outside the door. Y/N giggled as Otis covered his face in embarrassment. “Goodnight Y/N and goodnight Otis. I am so proud of you. And don’t forget about the condoms in your top drawer. Just because you’re official now, does not give you an excuse to not be careful.” Jeans words becoming more muffled as she walked towards her room. Turning back to Otis, Y/N cuddled into his chest allowing herself to finally drift asleep. Otis looked down at the girl. His embarrassment being replaced with content. If Eric had told him at the start of the school year that by the second term, he would be in his bed, with his girlfriend sleeping in his arms, he would have bet his Nintendo Switch and collection of Joy Division vinyl, that Eric was a liar. And he would have lost them both.

A/N- @that-girl-named-alex and @ruefulposts asked to be tagged in part 4. So here it is. Sorry it is so late. x

[eldritchsurveys]

846.

1. have you ever worn bright red lipstick? >> I don’t think so. Pretty sure I wouldn’t be fond of how it looked on me.

2. do you smoke the ganj? >> I don’t. I’m in the “weed makes me incredibly paranoid and anxious, and enough of it will phase me completely out of consensus reality” camp, unfortunately.

3. do you eat a lot? >> Nah. Like, sometimes I feel like I do, but then I remember that compared to the typical American portion sizes, I eat like a bird. So I guess I eat the normal amount (since American portion sizes are in no way normal, lmao).

4. do you care much about your health? >> I care enough, I guess. I try to do more good (or neutral) for myself than ill, when I can. It balances out the fact that my badbrains are probably shaving years off my life with every passing week, lmao.

5. do you know who sid and nancy are? >> The uh... Sex Pistols guy or whatever, and his lady, right?

6. do you know who bonnie and clyde are? >> More or less.

7. who do you like better? >> I don’t care about either couple’s stories, as I’m sure is obvious from my vague answers.

8. do you listen to the misfits? >> I do! Love ‘em.

9. do you like punk music? if not, you should. >> I like some of it. Not the hardcore, really fast shouty song that’s over in a minute kind of punk music, though. Horror-punk like Misfits is probably my fave, and pop-punk like Green Day is good, and whatever it is the Distillers have got goin on is good too.

10. are you christian? >> Nope.

11. if so, have you ever read the entire bible? >> I’m not Christian but I have read at least 80% of the Bible. I mostly skipped the “here’s a list of like 200 laws” and “here’s an entire genealogy” bits.

12. are you a sucker for big, blue eyes? >> No.

13. are you generally attracted to more outgoing and loud people or quiet and mysterious people? >> Well, quiet and mysterious people I relate to, and outgoing and loud people provide a balance for my own self, so I like both for different reasons. I just spend less time around the outgoing people because 1) I don’t provide enough energy exchange for them so they get bored of me and 2) it’s not often that I have enough social energy to spare for them in the first place.

14. do you listen to that hardcore shit? >> Like, hardcore, the genre? No.

15. have you gotten a new computer since 2006? >> Of course. I got a new computer just this year.

16. have you ever cried because you couldn’t be with someone? >> I don’t know. No time in recent memory, that’s for sure.

17. do you plan on going to college? >> No.

18. could you ever see yourself going to those college parties, getting drunk, fucking some random person and getting an std? For fuck’s sake…I don’t think anyone sees themselves getting an std. <-- lmao for real...

19. do you even drink? >> I do.

20. what do you like most about the opposite sex? >> ---

21. don’t you hate it when things are amazing in other people’s lives and you’re stuck in a hole alone? >> I hate it when it feels like this, yes. It’s a fallacious train of thought, because what we see of others’ lives is usually just what they’re willing to show us, and people don’t really tend to share the awful bits of their lives. So of course other people’s lives look amazing when all you see is the amazing stuff. Also, depression makes everything in my life feel worse than it actually is, so... extra fallacy.

22. do you have problems with one - or both - of your parents? >> I have problems with all of my parents.

23. do you like cheez-its? >> No.

24. do you sleep a lot? >> No.

25. do you like drinking water? >> I don’t always like it, but I do drink it more than anything else. Most of my variation in beverages comes from either kombucha or sparkling water (so, also still water).

26. what is your view on the war going on right now? >> Well, before I answer... what year was this survey made...

27. do you like george w. bush? >> Ah, there’s the time frame.

28. who do you want to win the 2008 election in november; hillary clinton or barrack obama? >> And here we are in the 2020 election season, and all I can hope for is that somehow Trump gets voted out. I’m sick of his ass.

29. who do you think will win? >> At this point, I can’t even bother to speculate. I didn’t think Trump would win the first time, and yet here we are...

30. have you ever been to a funeral? >> Yeah.

31. can you play drums? >> No.

32. can you play guitar? >> Nope.

33. what’s your passion in life? >> I don’t have one of those.

34. do you like writing? >> I do.

35. are you doing/did you do good in school? >> ---

36. do you think moths are bad luck? >> I’ve never heard that one. I love moths :(

37. or do you not believe in supersitious stuff? >> I’m just not interested.

38. are you in love with anyone? >> No.

39. if you’re in love, do you wish you weren’t? if you’re not in love, do you wish you were? >> I’m not interested in being in love.

40. if you’re in love, do you care about what anyone has to say about them, if it’s only bad news? >> ---

41. when you date, do you care about what your best friend[s] or good friends think about them? >> ---

42. will you date someone that’s not your race? >> I’m married to someone that is not my ethnicity.

43. i hope you aren’t racist… are you? >> As if I or anyone would answer this with “fuck yeah, I’m racist, what are you gonna do about it?” Like. Get real.

44. have you ever made yourself throw up? >> Yeah.

45. have you ever purposely starved yourself? >> No.

46. do you think you exercise enough? >> I would never think I exercised enough. I would always assume that I’m not doing enough. Rationally, I guess the fact that I try to take brisk walks at least 3 times a week and do short reps of various exercises throughout the day is a lot better than doing nothing at all.

47. have you ever pierced something on your body, yourself? >> Yeah, I’ve done my ears a few times. All those holes are closed up now, though.

48. have you ever listened to the band lars frederiksen and the bastards? >> No.

49. if so, what do you think of them? >> ---

50. what do you often do on saturday nights, if you’re not out somewhere and/or with friends? >> I’m usually not out somewhere on Saturday night. I’m usually at home doing whatever.