#the ged is not that important if i can still get a job AND study for it UP THERE!!!

[sopafa]

Douxie Headcanons!

Okay, he is old. Like, very old. And a lot of people are like: Why is he still working like a barista? There is nothing more than a restaurant or small coffee shop?

Plot Twist.

Douxie actually had studied a lot of diferent carriers, just for fun. And he actually had a job. Like a really big job.

But after years, living behind a desk, and working like a “young” jeff, he just ged bored and frustrated, until one day, he says:

“U know what? Fuck it!”

And in the middle of a important council, he just undoes his tie, breaks the papers, fucking flips a table, and made a whole scene

I pictured him trowing documents until he is out of the building, while he scream:

 “I quit! This life is not for me! Im living butt snacks! Hisirdoux out!”

That same night he moves out of the city to Arcadia, dyes his hair, and start working on his music again.

So yes, he can work in a important building, or get a serious job. But, for now he is happy living a simple and domestic life, because he wants to find himself and enjoy life. Because why not.

[sometimesiwritebadly]

Carter (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: You’re a single mother, and your 12-year-old daughter, Carter, decided to track down her father.

Warnings: Mentions unsupportive asshole parents. Also language. References sex (between two underage kids) and teen pregnancy.

Notes: ....so i kinda disappeared for almost a month...and instead of updating my series i have decided to write a whole new fic... sorry? :) in my defence it says right there in my user that i only write SOMETIMES

also this is kinda an au where Spencer graduated high school at 16 instead of 12 yet somehow gets all his doctorates and joins the fbi at the same time. does the math work out? no. do i care? no. 

also sorry if your name is Carter. maybe you can pretend you pulled a Lorelai Gilmore and named your kid after yourself

Word Count: 1.9k

Masterlist

“Carter!” You ran through the hallways, paying no attention to the various government agents staring as you made your way to your 12-year-old daughter. About an hour ago, you’d gotten a call from her school because she hadn’t shown up to her classes that morning, even though you’d watched her get on the bus yourself. After the longest 15 minutes of your life, you got a call that freaked you out even more; Carter had gone all the way to Quantico and was now with the FBI. You drove like a madwoman from work, especially since all the FBI Agent, Jareau, had told you over the phone call was that your daughter was safe. Now, that same agent was trying to keep up with you as you marched towards your daughter, who was sitting at a desk in the middle of a busy office. 

“Miss Y/L/N, maybe we can take you guys somewhere private to-” 

“Carter Rose Y/L/N, what on earth possessed you to skip school and take a field trip to the FBI?” You interrupted the agent, talking to your daughter, whose eyes were now wide in fear. You two don’t fight often- or at all, really. You’d had her when you were only 16, so sometimes your relationship danced the line around the line between mother/daughter and two sisters. This was the first, and hopefully only, time she’d done anything to make you truly angry. Instead of answering you, Carter just looked down at her hands, mumbling something. “Carter, the longer you don’t answer me, the longer you’ll be grounded.” Your voice softened just slightly, but it was enough for Carter to know how worried you’d been.

“I found dad.” Her words made your heart stop. You hadn’t thought about her dad in a long time, you wouldn’t let yourself.

“What?” Carter only looked over to the man that had been standing next to her. You hadn’t even glanced at him, you were too worried and mad at Carter. You looked up at him, and he looked at you, and you felt like your world was crashing down. Spencer Reid. You hadn’t seen him since you were 15, when he’d left to go to CalTech. He was just a couple months older than you, 16 years old, but he was already graduating high school with enough college credit to put him halfway through an undergrad degree. He was set to become one of the youngest doctors in the country. And now here he was, 12 years later. He looked at you with the same wide eyes he had all those years ago, the same look your daughter had on her face. 

“Agent Jareau?” The blonde woman came back into your line of sight, but you only glanced at her before looking back to Spencer. “Can you watch Carter for a while?”

“Yeah, of course.” Carter stood up to follow Agent Jareau, but before she could walk away, your hand stopped her. 

“You’re grounding starts now, C. Hand it over.” Carter begrudgingly pulled her backpack off her shoulder and opened it. First she placed her phone in your hand, then pulled out a book and handed it over as well. You glanced at the cover. You know for a fact that she finished this book yesterday, so you tucked it under your arm and held out your hand again, and waited for her to place her second book in it. A moment later, another book was in your hand, and you nodded at Agent Jareau, allowing her to take your daughter out of sight to what you assumed to be her office. Finally, you turned back to Reid.

“Hi.” You started, avoiding eye contact. You weren’t sure how to start this conversation. You never thought you’d have to have this conversation. 

“Hi.” Awkward silence. Instead of looking at Spencer, you looked around the office space, and noticed that some people were staring at you and Spencer. Spencer followed your gaze, and turned back to you. “Um, those are my coworkers. We have a conference room, do you wanna talk there?”

“Yeah, that’d be good.” You followed Spencer across the office and into a small conference room. You both sat down at the circular table, and Spencer opened his mouth to speak first.

“Is it true?” You only nodded in response, still not able to look at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You took a deep breath before looking up at him to answer. Spencer had tears developing in his eyes, and he was leaning towards you. Raising Carter on your own had been hard, but you’d never even considered how missing out on so much of her life would affect him. “You...you were going to college. You had this insane future ahead of you, and I didn’t want to ruin it. By the time I found out, you were already gone, so…”

“You left Vegas.” Spencer interrupted. “When I came home for Thanksgiving, I stopped by your parent’s house. They refused to talk to me, and said that you transferred to a boarding school.” You scoffed at your parent’s lie. Your parents were pretentious, upper-class people. They’d wanted you to “take a semester abroad,” and quietly give up the baby for adoption. You refused, so you emptied your savings account and booked a ticket to DC, where your cousin was willing to take you and the baby in. There, you finished up your GED online, got a part time job, and began to raise Carter. 

“Yeah.” You paused. “She was born May 19th. She’s 12 now.” Spencer was hanging on to every word that came out of your mouth. “She reminds me a lot of you. She’s always reading, and she loves school. I would say I’m surprised that she found you, but she’s way smarter than I am.”

“You never told her about me?”

“I told her some stuff. She knows that we dated in high school, and that you went to college early. I didn’t want her to feel abandoned, so I told her that you left before I could tell you I was pregnant.”

“You could’ve told me.” Spencer didn’t seem angry, but it was very clear how upset he was.

“I know I could’ve. But I was 16, and the only person in my life that was willing to accept me and Carter was my cousin, and she was only 22 at the time. I didn’t want to reach out to you only for you to reject me too.” Your response didn’t appear to make Spencer feel much better. “Look, Spencer, you can be mad at me all you want, but it’s obvious Carter wants to get to know you. I won’t force you to be a part of her life now, but don’t cut her out because you’re mad at me.”

Before Spencer could respond, there was a knock at the door, and a brunette woman poked her head in. “Sorry, I know this is important, but we have a case. Spence, Hotch said you can stay back, work this case from here with Garcia.”

“No, I don’t want to take you away from work.” You saw a stray piece of paper on the table, and reached into your purse to grab a pen. You quickly wrote your number and address on the paper, before pushing it towards Spencer. “Work your case, and when it’s over, we can talk more. It’ll give you some time to think things through.” Spencer looked at your words on the paper, and only nodded in response.

“You daughter is in JJ’s office, I’ll walk you over.” The brunette agent said, so you followed her out to pick up Carter.

~~~ 

A week later, you hadn’t received any calls from Spencer. Carter asked for updates practically every hour. You were tempted to give her back her phone and books just to get her off your back about him, but she’s grounded. That means the only books she’s allowed to read are for school, but right now it feels like you’re being punished just as much as she is. You were in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you when you heard a knock on the door. “C? Can you get the door? Check the peephole first-”

“I know, I know, never open the door for strangers.” Carter interrupted you, pausing her studying in the living room to walk out of your sight and to the door. You faintly heard the sound of the door opening before Carter spoke again. “Mom? Can Dad stay for dinner?” The mention of Spencer shocked you, and caused you to trip over your own feet and hit your knee against one of the cabinets.

“Shit!” You said loudly, reaching down to rub your hand against what would quickly become a bruise. Just as this happened, Carter and Spencer entered the room. Carter with a large smile on her face.

“That’s a dollar in my jar!” She said happily, grabbing your wallet from the counter and handing it to you.

“Yeah, I know.” You rolled your eyes, pulling a dollar out and handing it to her so she could put it in her jar.

“Mom and I each have a jar, and at the end of the month we go shopping with whatever money we have. Whenever she swears, I get a dollar, and whenever I do, she gets a dollar.” Carter explained for Spencer, then lowered her voice to a whisper, that you still easily hear, “I always have more money to spend.”

“Hey! That’s not true!” You defended yourself, even though you know she’s right. While the swear jar had easily stopped your daughter from using foul language (that she’d picked up from you), you had a lot more trouble holding your tongue.

“If your language is anything like it was in high school, then Carter is probably right.” Spencer joked, causing Carter to laugh.

“You know I don’t have to feed you two, I can eat all of this myself.” You responded, turning back to your stove.

“You wouldn’t!” Carter gasped, which caused you to laugh, giving yourself away. 

“Ok, ok, you’re right. This time.” You paused for a moment, “Hey C, Spencer likes reading almost as much as you do. Why don’t you grab one of your favorites from the shelf for him to read?” Carter clearly liked this idea, because she was running to her room in an instant, yelling facts about her favorite book from her room. You knew you’d only have a minute alone with Spencer, so you turned away from the food and back to him. “Are you sure?” You asked.

You could tell from the look on Spencer’s face that he understood exactly what you meant. Once he decides to be Carter’s dad, he can’t go back. You were giving him an out.

“Yes.” He answered, with more confidence than you’d ever seen from him.

“Good.” You said, with a small smile ghosting your face. Just as quickly as she left, Carter came bounding back into the room, carrying 5 books instead of the one you’d suggested.

“I couldn’t choose a favorite book. I read kind of fast, but you can borrow these for as long as you want! I don’t mind sharing.”

“Oh yeah? How fast did you read these?” Spencer asked, looking over the book descriptions on the back.

“I usually read a book a day. Sometimes I finish books in a few hours if they’re interesting enough.”

“Impressive! Maybe one day you’ll be on my level.” Spencer bragged. You tuned out of the conversation as Spencer began talking about how fast he reads, and how Carter could learn to read faster. You just watched them, enjoying the fact that for the first time ever, Carter could have a dad. And maybe, with time, you’ll end up being some kind of family.

~~~

taglist: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @la-vie-en-amour1 @peculiarinsomniac

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom 8-13 thoughts! again, under the cut bc I blew through 6 episodes in one go...

-LOVE THE WAY THE GHOST ZONE LOOKS. but theres fucking ghost cops??? ghost jail??? that SUCKS imagine dying and going to jail in your AFTERLIFE. danny going to JAIL WAS NOT something I expected. but seeing all the enemies together and work with danny to bust out. SO ICONIC I love that actually. and the thing about real world stuff acting as ghosts in the ghost zone is very cool.

-'there are some things more important that hunting ghosts!' mrs fenton says, about her husband forgetting their anaversary (FOR THE 18TH YEAR IN A ROW?? CHRIST) and not about, idk, their son clearly freaked out. she didnt even notice he was gone into the ghost zone!!! he might be a bad husband BUT shes not the best mom. they suck and I don't care about their relationship problems I care about these kids. danny doing his best to clean the house to keep his mom from getting mad at his dad?? hes such a good boy I want to cry, this is not his place, his dad should be cleaning his own shit up!!!

-maddie's butch lesbian sister is living my best life in her lil cabin. also being a snarky bitch to jack. queen. and her getting a 10th anniversary of her divorce. LOVE IT.

-mr. lancer being a cheerleader in his younger years makes perfect sense to me. king shit.

-dr. spectra's cat ears/mullet hairstyle?? sooo cute. I also just love the concept of a ghost just. sucking out people's positivity and feeding on emotions. a great villain. she put danny in a fucking diaper what the FUCK. and keeping it cold so no one would suspect shes a ghost??? INCREDIBLE. and her gay little blob sidekick. wlw mlm evil solidarity.

-JAZZ FOCUSED EP. YEAAAH!!! her first thought when she saw the ghosts was like 'omg i gotta tell danny :)' and her going to the teacher and also councilor trying to get help for him...shes just 16 but shes trying so hard to help him out :( watching this when youre younger I can imagine ppl are like omg annoying!! but watching this when im older im just like :( jazz baby im SO sorry </3 SHE BODIED THAT GHOST THOUGH. and the fact she didnt tell danny she knew surprised me. like, shes patient and waiting on him to tell her when hes ready!! thats so so sweet.

-christ the parents talking about 'PEELING IT LIKE AN ONION. AND EXAMINING REMAINS' of ghosts RIGHT INFRONT OF DANNY.

-'why am i so depressed and angry all the time!!' DANNY YOURE 14. i mean it IS a ghost this time, but...

-579$ top?? VALERIE NO ITS NOT EVEN CUTE IT DOESNT EVEN GO WITH THAT OUTFIT AAAA. tho this ep is called shades of gray..VALERIE FOCUSED EP FINALLY????! *THUNDEROUS APPLAUSE* I already knew about red huntress from my redesigns, but I didn't exactly know what that entails or how/why, so, it's fun to see the Origins.

-ghost pubby! ghost pubby!!!!! why is the dog a ghost?? the implication that the company had guard dogs and got rid of them...what did they DO. is it just the unfinished business?? of not having that toy it was looking for?? god I hope so.

I feel SOOO bad for valerie tho, my god. her friends are shunning her for what, because her dad lost her job and she had to move??? horrible. (and the fact the dog wrecked the moving van too...) I also love how 'from wisconsin' on the package was an IMMEDIATE RED FLAG FOR ME. WISCONSIN=EVIL NOW. vlads so petty.

-it took valerie like 5 mins to get the hang of hunting ghosts and shes already a much bigger threat than his parents tbh. who've been trying and studying this for years. and a more valid reason <3 love her shes so cute and cool. new daughter alert.

-'i should do SOMETHING to help valerie' no shit danny???

-'who is that, awesome outfit!' -top gay sam moments. i was going to say. before it immediately cuts to sam kissing danny LMFAOOO. don't think I like that, it puts tucker in a weird third wheel position... the next ep involves them holding hands and blushing when danny's cold...URGH No. not a fan ngl. the trope of 'if theres a girl in a trio she has to end up with one of the two guys!!'

-right as I say that they take it to extremes!! and ember shoots him with a love ray gun that makes him OBSESSIVE OVER SAM. AND SHE TAKES HIS HANDS AND SAYS 'YOU DONT FEEL THAT WAY ABOUT ME, I DONT FEEL THAT WAY ABOUT YOU' and her saying she doesnt want to be together like this. and tucker saying 'i always knew you two would get together!!' dont manifest it tucker please. the show pushing for it so hard makes me not want it KSHKJKJD I KNOW its probably canon. it sucks though. im a hater.

-vlad just LURKING AROUND THE SCHOOL GIVING VALERIE GIFTS ASJKDHKJ YOU WEIRD PETTY OLD MAN GO HOME!!!

-EMBERRRRR YOU WILL REMEMBERRRRRR . this is the one thing I kinda remember from when I was a kid EMBERRRRR ilu. top 10 cartoon bops. sams being a hater. popular things are popular for a reason. mr. lancer also being a hater. also everyone wearing her color scheme ..its a really good look, the purple, black, and minty color...

-penguins exist in the ghost zone. confirmed.

-EMBER JUST SHOWING UP AT A RANDOM HIGHSCHOOL TO PLAY?? UNANNOUNCED, MID DAY??? girl get a tour schedule. make some money or smth damn. I know shes probably doing it for the power boost but. lord. anyway if your show doesnt have a concert scene/ep, is it even valid.

-fellas is this gay. (she uses a GRAPPLING HOOK TO SHOOT OUT THE WINDOW AFTER SEEING AN EMBER VAN GO BY RIGHT AFTER THIS SHOT)

-hey, she had an undercut at some point!! my redesign!!! was accurate!! in..a way

-I feel like danny has a lot of pent up aggression ngl, him being heartbroken about sam and immediately going IM GONNA GO TAKE IT OUT ON EMBER. I mean she needs to be stopped I guess But. jazz has the right idea he needs therapy and a HEALTHY outlet.

-tucker singing > my singing

-girls cant be gamers -tucker and danny sexist moments. her being chaos in the game OWNED.

-TUCKERS HAT IS A BERET??? I THOUGHT IT WAS A BEANIE. SAM CALLED IT A BERET. WH.

-it was actually nice of lancer to let danny retake the test, and he go to play games again. smh. epic cringe gamer moments compilation. and driving him home!!! I actually like him as a character. anyway teachers like lancer are SO appreciated. I was failing middle school because of mental problems, and felt so dumb and got embarrassed by teachers who would just get onto me instead of bothering to ask what the real problem was, but when I was taking my ged classes I had a wonderful teacher who kept reassuring me that I was smart, and I got honors!! danny is SUCH a little shit to him (understandable, 14, but) but seeing them getting along better and danny putting in effort. SO CUTE. THATS MY SON, STUDYING HARD!!!! and being so PROUD OF HIMSELF!!! 91!!! BITCH!!! A- is STILL AN A!!!

-'why dont they ever realize thats me in a dress' mr lancer i am CRYING. i realized.

-technus being my ghost grandpa who cant game asking tucker for help. bless his heart. his out of date old ppl lingo circles back to being endearing <3 tucker not recognizing him despite the like, lack of any kind of serious disguise...I do love their lil in-game outfits....sam being the tank rules. I like technus' spider design also. more characters need to be giant freaky spiders, imo.

-finding your gf a new host because she cant maintain her ghost body outside the zone? amazing. using jazz as the host? ILL KILL YOU. jazz immediately accepting a ride home from a guy she just met and letting him know where she lives. letting him IN THE HOUSE??? nooo girl no lets use common sense </3

-sooo cringe the parents were like 'good job for spying on your sister' tho wtffff. doesnt matter if hes a bad guy, thats fucked. everytime these parents BREATHE im like. these are MY kids now <3

-BAD LUCK BEING A THEME OF THE 13TH EPISODE. thats super fun. johnny 13 being his name is so. iconic. your last name is a NUMBER? also goth tucker. I actually love the look. everyone looks good goth. 'the ladies love the eyeliner and onyx nail polish' sam you are sooo right every man needs to at least try those two things. im a lesbian and I agree. same, danny, your bff is gnc af

-LOVE kitty's design. and just, the concept of a ghost with a bike. couple goals, except yes stay away from jazz.

[breanime]

The Boys

(and Uncle Miguel!)

(So this is just gonna be some random headcanons for the crime family au, I guess, pre-getting adopted/taken in by Uncle Miguel)

Spooky

Spooky has big brother energy for days. He’s the oldest of the crew at 28, and he considers all of them to be his responsibility. He’s the best at looking at situations from different perspectives, which makes him especially good at planning cons. Spooky always has a Plan B-Z in case something goes sideways. He’s the quietest of the bunch, but it’s clear he’s the leader. He can silence them or encourage them with just one twitch of his eyebrow. Being the oldest and therefore the caretaker for the others, Spooky had to drop out of school his junior year to earn money. He started off running drugs for a local dealer, and quickly worked his way up to one of the top members before branching off to start his own crew. He never graduated high school or got his GED, so he’s very adamant that his brother and cousins do. Spooky married his high school sweetheart, Lena (details to come), after they had a son, Marco, when Spooky was 25. Spooky and Lena had an on-again, off-again relationship after high school, and it ended with Lena’s death in a car accident when Marco was only 3 years old. Now a single father, Spooky is torn between being the best father he can be and making a name for himself in the streets. 

Rio

Spooky’s cousin, Rio is all charm. He was thrown into the Gifted and Talented program as a kid, and subsequently thrown back out after getting into a fight with another student and cursing out the teacher. Still, he was always a dedicated student, graduating at the top of his class even though he was always notoriously truant. As he grew older, he found that it was easier--and more effective--to use his brains over his fists to get his way. Rio set himself up as Spooky’s right hand man, but they don’t always see eye to eye... Rio is almost always cool, calm, and collected--a strict opposition to his sister Didi and best friend Angel. Rio, Angel, and their friend Cleo were a trouble-making trio in high school, and still work well together today. Rio wants to take the crew to the next level: bigger jobs, more profit, but Spooky wants to move into a more legit business. Rio respects Spooky, but he doesn’t always agree with his choices, and, truth be told, there will always be a bit of a rivalry between the two of them, especially considering Spooky’s not-so-secret interest in Cleo, Rio’s best friend and his self-proclaimed soulmate. 

Coco

The youngest of the bunch, Coco is Spooky’s half-brother. Their Mom (Miguel’s sister) got “knocked up” (Coco’s words) by a low level drug dealer/addict, and Coco was the result. Impulsive and explosive, Coco has always been a “react first, think later” type of guy. He looks up to Spooky and only graduated high school--through the alternative night school program--because he knew it was important to Spooky. Coco has a six year old daughter, Letty, that he loves more than anything else in the world. He’s co-parenting with his ex, Liyah, but it’s his greatest wish to have a full family, him, Liyah, and Letty--someday. Coco follows Spooky’s lead without question, but he’s finding himself agreeing with Rio more and more; he’s always felt more at home on the criminal side of things. Coco has the longest rap sheet of the family, which makes it difficult for him to find a “straight lace” job, even if he wanted one. Currently, his non-illegal job is working at a tattoo parlor; Coco has tatted everyone in the crew, and he was the one who gave Spooky his distinctive tear tattoo after Spooky, in defense of Coco, killed Coco’s father when they were younger. 

Angel

Angel is an honorary member of the family. He grew up with them, had his first kiss with Didi, ran from the cops with Rio, studied with Spooky, taught Coco how to hotwire a car, so Angel is basically family. Angel, Rio, and Cleo have always been the best of friends, and Angel ships them more than anyone else. Orphaned young, Angel always longed for a family, so he cherishes his chosen family and would do anything for them. He was in love with his ex-girlfriend Yaya, but he broke up with her to protect her from his lifestyle. They both still love each other, and he supports her in any way he can, but he’s terrified of not being good enough for her, so he keeps her at arms’ length. Angel never really considered life beyond the crew, the gang, the streets, but as he’s gotten older, he’s started to see the appeal of going legit, a topic he and Spooky have discussed a few times. His loyalties have always been with Rio, but he’s started to find himself siding more with Spooky and the idea of having a life outside of crime.

Bonus

Miguel

Miguel was the middle child. His older brother Jose (Rio and Didi’s father) was killed in a drive-by when Miguel was a teenager, and his younger sister Anjalise (Spooky and Coco’s mother) died of a drug overdose years after running away. Miguel took care of his parents after his siblings ran off; Jose to the streets, gangbanging with two kids under his arms, and Anjalise to drugs, getting lost in the needle. He learned to handle attorneys and doctors and bill collectors, interpreting for his Spanish speaking parents and handling all the paperwork and bills from a young age. When his parents died, he inherited what little they had, and he invested it, turning it into a small empire. Now, he runs several businesses, owns a handful of profitable properties, and employs several crooked cops and lawyers in case he needs...legal assistance. And beyond that, he also finances heists, stealing from wealthy white collar bosses who get tax breaks but don’t pay their employees, and redistributing the wealth to those who need it most. It is through this “side business” of his that he’s reunited with his long lost nephews and niece, and he promptly takes them under his wing and into him home. Miguel’s closest and most trusted companion is his personal assistant, Eve. They’ve known each other for over 15 years, and she knows all of his secrets, except one...

So those are the boys in the main cast! Let me know what you think, and I’d be more than happy to whip something up about the ladies next! Comments are welcome and encouraged! 💗

[btschooseafic]

Hey you, what’s your dream?

Pairing: platonic!oc x ot7

Details: manager!oc, predebut/idolverse, partial BTS World!verse

Summary: Soonyoung wants to be an idol. Aviva wants to make it happen. When Aviva becomes involved in forming an idol hip hop group, she starts to question what she wants. Is it enough to work hard to chase your dreams? Or are the people who support you along the way just as important?

Warnings: This is a fictional story based on real events. The characters presented here are not the same as their real life counterparts. [Masterlist]

Intro: To South Korea

Fly- Epik High

 “Don’t forget what made you want this old dream

 With two arms, spread your wings...”

“Are you sure about this?” Soonyoung said, holding Aviva’s hand tightly. Both girls took a deep breath as the plane took off.

Aviva nodded. “I told you, Soon, I’m in this with you all the way. I’m gonna help you make your dream come true.”

“But what about your dream?” Soonyoung argued.

“I’m happy as long as you are,” Aviva said seriously. Soonyoung sighed.

“You can’t live your life like that, Viva.”

Aviva hummed noncommittally, glancing out the window at the slowly changing scene. “We’ll go, and we’ll spend the summer with your grandparents while we get you to tryouts. If you don’t get in anywhere, we’ll revaluate.”

Soonyoung’s lips twitched. “I thought the agreement with our parents was to return after the summer if I didn’t get in?” She thought. Aviva made the same noncommittal noise. Soonyoung laughed and nudged her shoulder against hers. “Okay, girl, but you’ve got to have some fun while we’re there too. I know you’re a giant nerd that likes studying, but I’m getting you some good food, and music too.

By the end of the summer, Soonyoung had secured a position as a trainee for Big Hit Entertainment. However, Big Hit was still a growing label, and didn’t currently have any trainee dorms or programs. Soonyoung was sent for training at Source Music, a company Big Hit had ties to. Soonyoung and Aviva continued living with Soon’s grandparents for several months, waking up very early to make their long commutes.

Aviva had, surprisingly, been able to secure a position as a social media intern in the Big Hit offices, despite her less-than-fluent Korean. The Head of the Marketing Department, Choi Sanghoon who was going to be Aviva’s Direct Supervisor, told her they had been impressed with the way that she promoted Soonyoung’s music on social media.

Then Soonyoung took a large chunk of her savings and put a deposit on a small apartment a few stops away on the train, that an uncle in real estate was able to get her a discount on. Aviva argued against it, but Soonyoung wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

“You’ve always supported my dream, the least I can do is keep you as safe and happy as possible while we’re working on that. So just move into the damn apartment with me, Viva.”

For the rest of the year, both worked hard at their training, while completing their American GEDs on the side, just in case. Aviva had more interest in some the free Korean language course her internship was able to get for her.

2010:

In 2010 Big Hit signed the boy group 2AM under a joint contract with JYP Entertainment. This got them a little more notoriety, and money. Anticipating more trainees, they hired a new A&R Manager Nam Jungsook to oversee them. By this point, Aviva had become more comfortable with her job, and management noticed, giving her a small promotion to Assistant, moving around around multiple to Management Teams before she settled under Jungsook. In order to improve her skills, Jungsook got Aviva into more classes, including Music Business and Computer Science.

One responsibility Jungsook gave Aviva was going over contracts with new trainees. Jungsook had told her to keep a particular eye out for trainees with a background or potential in hip hop, as company CEO Bang Sihyuk was attempting to form a hip hop group.

[reflectionsofacreator]

Word count: 1693 | Also over on my [ao3] Set during AC2. Lizzie is not an OC. 

This one’s been eating at me, might as well post it -- it’s more of a dialogue piece than anything, similar to the intro conversations Desmond can have with Shaun or Rebecca. 

---

“Well aren’t you a handsome one? Yes you are, look at how sharp your teeth are! Here, here’s some food for you…”

Desmond followed the sound of the cooing down and around the corner, to the more isolated part of the warehouse. His Animus session was wrapped up for the day, and he still had a bunch of energy to try and burn through before their dinner got here. So… off to the warehouse jungle gym it was. 

He found Lizzie sitting on the ground against a support pillar, her laptop on her thigh, and cooing at a rat, scratching it as she fed it a bit of her food. 

“You know, that’ll just make him bring his friends,” Desmond pointed out, coming around to lean against the railing. “And then we’ll have an infestation.” 

Lizzie looked up at him, blinking owlishly for a moment, and then shrugged. “He’s not hurting anyone. Besides, he needs a bit of food, he’s skinny. And I told him not to bring his friends back here, so we should be fine.” 

“You told the rat not to bring his friends here?” Desmond asked, just to clarify. 

“Mmhm,” she said, and pet the little thing on the head. It squeaked and sniffed at her, before investigating curiously for more food. “He’s smart, he knows what I mean.” 

Desmond had no idea if she was pulling his leg or being completely serious. He’d already been through so much this last week that a supposedly sentient rat barely registered. 

“Uh. Sure.” He said, and crossed his arms. “Sorry, I’m a little bit of a disadvantage here. I got to know Shaun and Rebecca some, and I know Lucy from Abstergo, but you’re kind of a mystery for me.” 

“I mean, you’ve only been here a few days, right?” She asked, smiling at him. “And I’m usually down here, instead of in the Animus room.” 

“Yeah, why is that?” Desmond asked, gesturing to the warehouse. “You don’t even have a chair down here, let alone a desk or anything. Wouldn’t you be more comfortable upstairs? With the air conditioning?” 

Lizzie laughed slightly and pet the rat again, and got it to cuddle up into her lap. The image was cute, but as a long time New Yorker Desmond wanted to tell her that it would skin her alive. 

“I’m somewhat claustrophobic,” she admitted. “I’m better than I was as a kid, but sometimes it still gets to me. The warehouse feels bigger, compared to the tiny loft. And well, Shaun and Rebecca banter so much, it’s hard to think.” 

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Desmond chuckled, and slowly came over to sit down. “I’m usually wrapped up in the Animus so I don’t hear them often, but sometimes…”

“Speaking of,” she said, and started to tap at her laptop. “ I have the first few glyphs you’ve found decoded. The ones from Subject Sixteen. There’s more to them, but I got the base encryption out of the way.” 

“Oh hey, that’s awesome!” Desmond said, grinning as he leaned over to view the laptop. On one screen was a program that seemed to be partially animus tech, and the other was an email screen. The message she had open was just filled with lines, looking like slashes or Is. 

“You read cuneiform?” He asked, lifting a brow. 

“Huh? Oh, no,” she said, and closed out of the email. Her desktop had a picture of herself from a few years ago, a younger girl, and an older teenage boy, who was covered in scars. Their features were similar enough that Desmond would bet that they were related. “Well, I can read sometimes, I studied it in college, but that’s not cuneiform, it’s Claw.” 

“Claw?” He asked, keeping an eye on the rat. 

“An alphabet my siblings and I use to talk,” she smiled. “Don’t worry, it’s encoded even through the alphabet. I doubt anyone could read it, even if they were to hack into Hephaestus.” 

“Family, huh?” He mused, and leaned back. “Does that mean you’re not a born Assassin?” 

“Nope!” She said cheerily, and sat back against the support beam. “I’m actually sort of similar to Shaun, except I got caught hacking into Hephaestus, not Abstergo. I usually operate out of home base, but Rebecca and Shaun asked me to help with this job, considering how important the Animus is.” 

“What do you usually do, then?” 

“I’m a code breaker, and a hacker,” she said, a touch of pride in her voice. “I can break any encryption, any code, if given enough time, and even then it doesn’t take me long. Hacking’s more of a required skill in the Brotherhood nowadays, so I picked it up by proxy, but code is my specialty.” 

“And I suppose that also translates to genetic code?” He asked, a wry smile on his face. 

“Now you’re getting it!” Lizzie grinned. “Though not quite—Lucy’s better at genetics than I am, but I did help her get the initial programming for turning genetic code into computer code, and digitizing it into something readable.” 

Desmond frowned at that, tilting his head. Didn’t that mean Lizzie would’ve known Lucy in college, or…? Lizzie looked a little young for that. 

At his confused glance, she chuckled. “I went to college when I was fifteen. I graduated high school when I was fourteen, got my GED and everything. I didn’t get recruited until I was about eighteen though.” 

“Yeah?” Desmond asked, feeling vaguely sick. He was sixteen when he ran, and hearing that she was barely older than that was …. unsettling. But he didn’t let it show. “What about your family? You must be close, to keep exchanging emails even in the Brotherhood.” 

Lizzie grimaced, and scratched the rat in her lap. “Gregor isn’t happy with me, yeah. Thinks I’ve thrown away my life for some stupid reason. Boots thinks it’s great, but she doesn’t understand what I do. She thinks I just travel.”

“Boots?” He laughed, shaking his head. “That’s great. Gotta say, though, your brother might be onto something. Being an Assassin isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.” 

“That’s why you ran away?” She asked, lifting a brow at him. Shaun had made it judgemental, but she didn’t, strangely enough. “Most everyone’s heard about how you left the Farm when you were a teenager.” 

Desmond shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. Normal civilians would’ve seen it as defensive, or hiding, but to Assassins it was a non-threatening gesture, a willingness to talk. “Thought I was being raised in a cult, and that everyone was a liar.” 

Lizzie quirked an eyebrow at him. “... Gregor thinks that too.” 

“Your brother’s probably right,” he said lightly. “I may be here because I want to get back at those Abstergo bastards, but… doesn’t change how the Assassins are run. He sounds like a smart kid.” 

Lizzie smiled at that, looking down at the rat in her lap and scratching his ears once again. She didn’t say anything for a moment, thinking so hard that Desmond could practically hear it. 

“I figured…” She started, her voice trailing off. 

“Figured what? Use your skills for something good, or something like that?” Desmond asked, and just barely managed to keep the laugh out of his voice. He still wasn’t sure if the Assassins were doing good, more just… Trying to stop things from getting worse. 

“Well, something like that,” Lizzie admitted, looking away to the warehouse. Her voice was quiet, melancholy, even. “I’ve done a lot of good with my skills before, so I thought I might as well throw my lot in with some to try and do even more good. I watched my brother and little sister get caught up in a lot of stuff, unable to get away, and I hated it. It had already claimed our father, and even our mom. I wanted to be the last one to stick it out, until I couldn’t, not anymore, and I was swept up into everything, trying to prevent a war, or at least prevent some more losses.” 

Desmond stared at her, feeling slightly out of his depth. But something about the way she talked called to him and the way he had seen Altair, and now Ezio, got thrown into situations out of their control. Grand and oppressive, leaving scars on both sides. 

“So I got involved,” she shrugged, still staring out over the warehouse. Her eyes skimmed over the boxes, clearly thinking about something else. Maybe even seeing something else. “I learned a lot, helped save a lot of lives by using my talents. Codebreakers like me were as rare as trees, or so the saying goes.” 

“That…. Doesn’t make any sense,” Desmond said, laughing a little to cover his nervousness. Reflexively, he looked, and Looked again. She was blue, just like Lucy, Shaun, and Rebecca, but he couldn’t shake the odd feeling. 

“Not here, no,” she said, smiling softly. “Don’t worry about it. Long, long story short… I want to help. I’m good at it. Gregor… He sort of got thrown into it, without meaning to, and he still has scars for it. Understandably, he doesn’t want me to get hurt.”

“Maybe you should listen to him,” Desmond said quietly, so not to let his words echo up to the loft above. 

“Yeah, maybe,” she said, and looked down at the rat in her lap. He yawned and rolled over to get more comfortable, little paws sticking up in the air. “But, Desmond, could you live with yourself if you had the ability to do something good, and then just… not do it?” 

Desmond looked down at his hand, lifting it up to stare at his left ring finger. It felt weird to have it, somehow. He flexed his fingers, and automatically tried to trigger his hidden blade. The fact that the last one he touched was a modern ceramic one in the Farm when he was fifteen didn’t even factor, really, he just missed the comforting weight of a bracer. 

“You know?” He murmured, looking at her over his fist. “I think I’m going to find out, one way or another.” 

[omgjasminesimone]

Community

Logan x MC

Word Count: 1400

A/N: The Choices Tumblr community has alerted me that it is @brightpinkpeppercorn​​’s birthday. Happy birthday Mar!!! Thank you for always being such a ray of sunshine in this Choices Tumblr community! Here is a Logan x MC fic I hope you enjoy as a gift!

“Wow Logan, look, it’s the mascot!” Ellie exclaims, tugging on his hand, which as always is perpetually laced with her’s, to head in that direction. 

“He must be miserable.” Logan notes. He definitely doesn’t envy the poor kid in the giant Westwood Community College Wildcat costume in the Dallas heat.

“I’m sure it’s an honor! At Langston, there were very competitive auditions to become the Langston Lion.” Ellie lets out a nostalgic sigh. “I miss college.”

“You just graduated.” Logan reminds her. 

“Yeah, but after working full time for two months, I’m already nostalgic for the good old college days.”

“Good old college days? What about all those late nights in the library? And days you would call me crying because you were sure you failed that test?” Logan counters.

“...I guess I mostly did tell you about the bad things. But there were really good times too! Like the late night Target runs, and movie nights in the dorm.” Ellie reminisces. 

“Well on the bright side, you have free weekends now since you don’t have to study.”

“But I like studying.” Ellie counters. 

“....I’m trying to find a silver lining here for you El but you’re making it very difficult.”

Ellie laughs, clutching his arm and forcing him into the line for photos with the mascot. “The most important silver lining is you coming home, moving to Texas for me, us getting an apartment together, and being able to hug and kiss you as much as I want. Like right now.” She releases his arm and cups his cheeks, pulling him down to her waiting lips and kissing him soundly. 

Logan still can’t believe his luck as he wraps his arms around her waist and lifts her slightly off the ground. To somehow end up here in a community college quad kissing Ellie Wheeler after everything that happened with the Mercy Park Crew is nothing less than miraculous.

...

..

Logan went to Tijuana from LA after everything went down. It seemed like as good a place as any to avoid the FBI. But without Ellie, he felt like he was existing, but not really living. Every day, he had to fight his urge to call her. Stop himself at the last second when he had his keys in his hand and wanted to drive to Langston. 

One day, he just couldn’t fight it anymore. He called her from a burner phone. “Hello?” His throat closed up, hearing her voice for the first time in two months. A sharp intake of air from Ellie. “Logan?” She asked hopefully. He still couldn’t say anything. “Logan, it’s you, isn’t it?” She prompted. Then, she started crying. And his heart broke at the sound of her loud desperate sobs. 

“I’m sorry.” He apologized before hanging up, his head falling into his hands. He shouldn’t have done that. His phone rang. Ellie, calling him back. He ignored it, and went to turn it off, but before he could a text message from Ellie came through. ‘I still love you. I still want you Logan’

And that’s when he knew he was going to turn himself in. Because there was nothing he wanted more than her.  

He went to LA, and went to the Feds. And to his surprise, they were actually sympathetic. After all, he had come from the foster care system and had few options which explained why he turned to crime. He was also a minor when he committed most of his crimes. And most importantly, he ultimately helped take down Jason and his criminal enterprise. And he had turned himself in, he didn’t make them come find him. 

He was offered a deal. Since he didn’t technically have a criminal record attached to him, with them only knowing his first name when Ellie roped in the FBI to take down Jason, he had the option to enlist in the army and avoid any jail time. 

He jumped at the opportunity. And made it through basic training with flying colors. And only then did he allow himself to call Ellie. To explain everything. To tell her that he was still in love with her, and wanted to come to Langston to see her before his first deployment, Japan. 

He felt euphoric relief when she said she wanted to see him. 

For four years, they made it work long distance. They navigated the time differences so they could Facetime when he was in Japan, and then South Korea, and finally Iraq. Ellie wrote him countless letters, and sent pictures and care packages that he treasured. She also sent a GED prep book, which was invaluable in helping him get his GED. 

Between each deployment he’d sublet a room near Langston’s campus, and he and Ellie would spend every day together making up for the time that they were apart. 

But now, he’s served his four years and he’s free to use his GI bill to enroll in classes. Free to finally really start a life with Ellie. 

..

.

Ellie breaks away from his lips, smiling up at him. She hugs his waist, burying her face into his chest. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” He insists, placing a kiss to the top of her head. “Do we really have to wait in this line for a picture? I don’t want one.” He admits after patiently waiting several minutes. 

Ellie pouts. “You’re such a party pooper. Orientation is supposed to be fun!” 

Logan checks the email the community college registrar sent him. “Pretty sure it’s supposed to be about getting my student ID card troublemaker. Now that will be a line worth waiting in.” 

“Fine, but if we come back later and there’s no line for the mascot then I’m getting a picture of you with him.” Ellie promises, or more so threatens. 

“Deal.” Logan acquiesces, because he knows there’s still going to be a line later. He slips his hand back in her’s and walks them over to the Student Bookstore, following the map given to him when he checked in. 

He gets his ID while Ellie browses the store. She insists on buying an overpriced Westwood Community College sweatshirt. “Now I can wear this when you wear the Langston College sweatshirt I got you.” She reveals, hugging him from behind as he buys the community college edition textbooks required for his classes. They’re not available online, which seems like a scam. 

A student orientation volunteer announces a tour of campus is starting in 5 minutes, and Ellie quickly drags him over to wait for it. “I already have a map though.” Logan argues. 

“That’s not the same as walking around in person. Plus, it’s an opportunity to make friends.” Ellie looks around at some of the other new students. “He looks nice Logan! Why don’t you go talk to him?”    

“Okay mom, relax. I can make my own friends.” Logan retorts, but he softens that slight jab with a fond smile.

Ellie blushes. “Sorry. Am I being really overbearing? I just want school to be a really good experience for you. I know how nervous you are about this.”

Logan sighs. “It’s just been a really long time since I was in school. And the fact that I’m only going to be able to work part-time makes me a little anxious too.” 

“I told you that you don’t have to work Logan. I’m making good money. You can just focus on school.”

Logan shakes his head no. “No way. I’m paying half the rent.” He insists.

Ellie sighs. “You’re so stubborn. Is this about what my dad said? Because he doesn’t even know you.”

“Well, I don’t love that your dad called me a leech, but it’s more about me. I don’t like to depend on anyone. I’ll just feel more comfortable with my own money.”

“But what’s mine is your’s.” Ellie insists. 

“As sweet as that is troublemaker, you’re not going to be able to get me to change my mind on this. I’m keeping the part-time job at the mechanic shop.”

Ellie sighs. “Fine, but school comes first.” She replies. 

“Am I grounded if I bring home bad grades?” Logan retorts playfully. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Not trying to be your mother.” Ellie backs down. “In the spirit of being less domineering, what do you want to do after the tour?”

“We could find the best spot in the library to fool around.” 

“Logan!” Ellie exclaims with a blush as he laughs. 

...

..

taglist:  @debramcg1106  @choicesarehard @brightpinkpeppercorn @regina-and-happiness @drakexnadira @flyawayboo @fairydustandsarcasm @alesana45 @maxwellsquidsuit @lahelable @god-save-the-keen @mrsmckenziesworld @paisleylovergirl @iplaydrake @sinclaire-made-me-sin @choicesgremlin @lovehugsandcandy @blades-of-light-and-shadow @justdani14 @emceesynonymroll @emichelle @badchoicesposts @client-327 @riverrune @liamzigmichael4ever @princessstellaris @mskaneko @anxious-arliah @zaffrenotes @iam-ankita @ohsnapitzlovehacker @desireepow-1986 @lilyofchoices

[philcmena]

「natalia dyer & demi girl」⇾ carmichael, philomena, the junior radcliffe student’s records show that she/they are a taurus and 20 years old. she/they are studying wildlife science, living in noland and can be whimsical, patient, apathetic & unpredictable. when i see her/them i am reminded of the gentleness of decomposition, dancing naked around the flames, and whipping wind in your hair. ⇽「james & 21 & est & they/them.」

here’s my second !! baby child i love a lot ... much kinder ... a bit odd .. love of my life ... a classic ... a favorite ..

TW CANCER, TRAUMA, DEPERSONALIZATION / DEREALIZATION DISORDER ( ALT. DISSOCIATION ), DEATH, DECAY, MAGGOTS.

aesthetic.

wildflowers in your hair and bare feet against moss, binoculars and maps, madonna beating out of half-dead speakers in a half-dead van, whipping wind, jumping off cliffs and rolling down hills, a bandaid wrapped around each finger, cryptic bumper stickers and cryptids in the woods, facing the sun and letting the rays hit you, counting stars late into the night, dancing naked in the woods with nothing but fire to light your way, mismatched socks and lucky ribbons, hoarding a box of special treasures, shoplifting and diner-dashing, bleach against roots, pink sweaters paired with ripped fishnets and slip dresses with knock off uggs, willingly wearing crocs, glitter stickers, fungi and feeling one with them, lying down and decomposing, they’ll find us in a week. they’ll find us in a week.

basic info.

full name: philomena brontë carmichael

nickname(s): philly, phil, mena, etc.

b.o.d. - april 20th lmao !!

label(s): the amaranth, the halycon, the neophyte, the wanderer, etc. etc.

height: 5′4″

hometown: woodside, ca

sexuality: demisexual !!!!

pinterest ( & her family pinterest b/c they’re my most developed family uwu)

stats

inspired by: luna lovegood (harry potter), orla mccool (derry girls), cassie ainsworth (skins), alice (alice’s adventures in wonderland), amelie (amelie).

biography.

a middle child belonging to christopher and imogen carmichael - two stanford professors. christopher specialized in british literature whilst imogen specialized in the classics. hence the name.

the order of siblings goes as such: lysander, elektra, juno, philomena, and twins orion & valora. the deal was that everybody had a greek (or in juno’s case, roman) first name and a middle name inspired by a piece of british literature circa 1800s and under. a family of nerds, if you will.

so, clearly - right off the bat, their parents are … eccentric. they’re both in love with their respected topic, and with each other, and with their kids. the carmichael family is a happy family.

they each have their own quirks and whatnot - though philly’s always been particularly dreamy - even as a child, she’d spend hours watching clouds or caterpillars or the leaves blow in the wind rather than play with other kids. she wasn’t a shy kid - she just had her own interests.

hardship doesn’t hit the family until philomena is five and starts having splitting headaches. they’re slow at first - but as soon as she’s seeing spots and unable to walk in a straight line, doctor appointments are made.

it doesn’t take long for them to discover the tumor, though the official diagnosis of malignant ependymoma comes a month later.

it’s grade ii but slow-moving, small enough to not be as much of a threat as worried, but big enough where removal is necessary. philomena earns a scar and brings it in for show-and-tell. for two months afterwards, philly’s at radiotherapy monday through friday.

they’re lucky - philomena’s considered cancer-free by the next year. she’s babied at first - handled delicately, as if she could break if touched - but with five other children … it doesn’t last for too long.

and life continues as normal.

her personality doesn’t shift much over the next few years - she’s awfully independent for a kid, and awfully quiet - when she speaks it’s about faeries and bigfoot, about how the sky is so blue and if you listen quietly, you can hear the leaves whisper their secrets to each other. this is not odd.

she’s close to all her siblings, but she idolizes her older sister - elektra. elektra’s six years older and dyes her hair whatever colors she wants. elektra bought a knife off a seedy guy downtown. elektra threw away all of her heels and renounced god. elektra is god. her music is loud but it’s not heavy - it’s florence and the machine.

they’re opposites - elektra’s boisterous and feels loudly, philomena���s softer and feels…less. when elektra sneaks out, philomena keeps watch. they are a duo.

philomena is smart - but she’s fifteen and hates school. hates sitting inside all day. hates the same routine - day after day - it’s all the same. her parents’ routine is the same, philly feels contained and she wants to live.

elektra’s twenty-one and just bought a brand new spanking (used but not falling apart) 19-something volkswagen … van - using her entire savings account. she says she’s tired of routine, she’s leaving the next day.

naturally, philomena stows away in the back and isn’t discovered until they’re two states away and she’s got to pee. elektra nearly crashes the van in shock.

it’s an argument - philomena vs. elektra, then them vs. their parents, then their parents vs. the school, the state - it’s an ordeal. philomena switches to an online program in the end.

it hurts christopher and imogen - lysander’s not having any of their nonsense, juno’s betrayed and alone - the twins are twins. in the end, it’s alright. the carmichael family is a happy family.

philomena and elektra take their time - it’s not a road trip, it’s their new life, permanently on the road. they stop and explore often - they do odd jobs in whatever town they settle in. they dine-n-dash, they shoplift. they survive in their own way.

during particularly desperate times, they two resorted to identity theft & credit fraud - getting away with it only by ditching the cards once they’ve made it out of state.

she drops out of high school officially when she’s seventeen - they have to drive all the way back to california to deal with the wrath of their parents and to deal with paperwork, but it’s done. philomena doesn’t know what path she wants in life - but it’s not that.

it’s during this time that the episodes occur - philomena’s outside her body, philomena’s wrapped in cotton, her memories are not her own. she’s looking in the mirror and she doesn’t recognize herself. they take shelter in a city for six months, long enough for her brand spankin’ new therapist to figure out what’s wrong with her. she’s diagnosed with depersonalization / derealization disorder - they think it’s stress. philomena doesn’t get stressed. they think it’s trauma. she laughs - she never laughs.

there is trauma though, deep-rooted but somewhere inside - you just have to look for it.

you. just. have. to. look. for. it. look for it. look for it. look for it look for it look -

you were ten and she was thirteen, an off-trail hike in familiar woods in a familiar town, safe and familiar. it was your idea, to stray from the carved out paths, down creeks and up hills and round, and round again. you’re the one who spotted the scarf first, sticking up from the dirt and dancing in the wind like the beginning of reincarnation. it was not reincarnation, it was discovery. it was ruin. with curiosity drawn, you skidded down - with compliance, followed juno, followed your sister - clumsy in her steps and tumbling down quicker than you. you saw the corpse, but juno felt it. decaying flesh and maggot.

and she left juno, just like that - just five years later, when juno had finally gone to the end of her wits. philly up and left. abandoned her.

philomena and elektra leave the city after that therapy session. they do not return. she’s always been good at hiding her secrets.

three years later and her parents want philly to have a higher education - desperate for it, really - worried for her future. it’s a battle that she loses, getting her GED and applying to a local college in florida in shameful compliance.

they’re there for a year until philly gets (expectantly) expelled from the community college & the two of them are banned from the town they’d residing in up until that point. they don’t talk about it - but boy, was it one hell of a time.

they found refuge in lovell, a town that seemed to suit them well - it suited elektra’s desire to travel up and down the east coast, and it intrigued philomena enough to the point of her being content with staying. soon after, philly officially transferred to radcliffe for the fall semester & they’ve been here since!

UPDATE: another summer update! very simple ... she n elektra traveled the states again, as they always do ... like clockwork. had to be dragged back to radcliffe (doesn’t like staying in one place for too long) bt also <3 likes a lot of people here n brought them all souvenirs. it ws very nice! nothing bad.

personality.

she’s quiet but she’s confident - her voice sounds like rustling leaves, if leaves smoked a pack of cigarettes a day.

often underestimated - philly’s petite and looks like she’d fall over if a plastic bag blew too close to her. she’s independent - for the most part. elektra is the only person philly takes orders from.

has always been considered odd - weird, strange. still talks about the trees as if they’re listening, as if they’re old friends. she’s vague and doesn’t elaborate on the things she says.

believes in pretty much any superstition you throw her way. luck is very important to her. if you ask her if the earth is flat, she’ll say probably. believes strongly in bigfoot and the lochness monster. has personally seen aliens, and loves ghosts almost more than herself.

she can be amusing - whether you ‘get’ her or not, her outlook is often bright - she talks about the negatives the same way she talks about the positives. can be seen as naive or gullible, but she’s plenty smart. even if half of her education has come directly from google.

philly doesn’t laugh. a smile, yes - often, in fact - not always reaching her ears, or bearing teeth - but these are not indicators of her happiness. philly is consistently content. she thinks many things are funny - she still will not laugh.

her voice is often monotonous - she doesn’t sound dreary, she sounds far-away. her voice carries. her emotions are often unknown to others.

is apathetic in most situations. she’s hard to bother - she’s incredibly patient and enjoys the company of most - tolerates them at the very least. it’s hard for her to express her emotions, because she feels them so little that it’s very nearly not worth it. her affection is not verbal - it’s small touches and gestures of kindness, love in her own way.

is a fan of knock-knock jokes and bad puns. she won’t crack a smile while telling you them, nor does she expect you to laugh. she just enjoys them.

she owns a motorola razr covered in puffy stickers - hasn’t ever had a smartphone. she’s a fan of emoticons. her favorite is :o)

has a lot of bruises and scratches and scars - she’s often getting herself into pickles. there are always, at the very minimum, three bandaids on each hand.

she has insomnia, so she’s awake often. is often seen wandering town - even when she shouldn’t be, even when it might be dangerous. her intuition is delayed. when she does sleep - her dreams are vivid and fantastical.

keeps a box of memories - sentimental bits and pieces she’s picked up over the last few years. there are a lot of buttons and postcards, but any teeny tiny object will do.

her style changes every week - most, if not all, of her clothes are thrifted. one week she’s baby spice and the next she’s lydia deetz. she combines pieces from different styles often - she looks like a barbie clothed by a child. she feels most comfortable like this.

will either patch-up the clothes that get too worn or reuse them in some way. sometimes donates the clothes she gets tired off - isn’t minimalistic, but she’s learned to keep only a small amount of possessions.

the only consistency is her lucky ribbon - it’s pastel yellow and silky and as thin as a shoelace. she ties it onto her outfit of the day, everyday. if she loses it, she’s lost. elektra has a matching ribbon.

has no problem with minor theft - she only takes bare minimum, puts herself and elektra first and that’s how it’s always been. she tries to be good while in lovell / radcliffe - would hate to be forced out by mobs with torches and pitchforks

currently living in noland while elektra stays in their van, florence - sometimes philly stays there during the weekends.

they used to live in motels on the occasion, the cheapest room, and more often than not they’d both go home with strangers for a comfier bed and a hotter shower.

it was a common occurrence - she didn’t sleep with them - but somehow, she weaseled her way into their homes anyway. has come out mostly unscathed, on most occasions. this has been a practice ever since they’ve been on the road.

really, truly - has not slept with anybody, had her first and only kiss at thirteen with a frog. this doesn’t bother her.

will consume a n y t h i n g you put in front of her - isn’t picky.

listens to whatever they’ve picked up along the way but she likes instrumentals the best. her second favorite genre is 1990′s and 2000′s top hits. they’re nostalgic for her. third favorites? florence, of course. fleetwood mac. the bird and the bee.

loves storms - will go out in the rain and will risk her life for it.

owns a pair of roller-skates and is often skating rather than walking. unless she’s on grass - then she’s walking barefoot.

has many hobbies, and gets bored of them often. her favorite hobby is welding. she’s not certified.

also, juggling.

also, accordion.

the kind of girl who’ll do any job you give her. odd jobs are her favorite jobs. babysitting is her least favorite - but she does it anyway. has lost children before. have they ever been found? not by philly.

dyes her hair blonde often and cuts her own hair - bangs included - finds it cathartic, likes the itchiness of bleach.

everything she does is often in pursuit of feeling free, alive, and meaningful.

( like her frequent visits to the woods, late at night when the moon is high and full. it’s freeing to dance around a fire, stark naked in the cold. builds immunity )

comes and goes wherever she pleases, nothing & nobody can stop her (besides elektra). has befriended the campus witch, or as much as the witch will allow, and shrike as well. she knows to respect nature, and abandoned sites - she’s practically free to explore as she wishes, her only pride is the trust she’s gained.

the trust expands to animals as well, she has a certain knack for getting them to like her. has too many ‘pet’ rats that reside with her, alongside a baby raccoon & a few crow pals. has a new animal companion everyday, but she doesn’t contain them or force them to stay.

leaves her window in noland wide open because of this, because her window is conveniently right besides a tree with sturdy branches. good for animal smuggling, sneaking in and out, hiding, etc. etc. world is her oyster.

though her room in noland is ??? frankly a mess ??? already ??? usually keeps most of her possessions in her memory box but she’s also turned her room into a mini labyrinth of knick-knacks. very cozy, but very nest-like. think of howl’s room from howl’s moving castle.

wanted connections.

random encounters… it’s only her second semester at radcliffe, she hasn’t met everybody yet i’m sure

random encounters…in the wild… alternately, people she’s met before in a different part of the country. whether she’s stolen from them or crashed at their place, or simply shared a dinner. anything goes!

unexpected sleepover… someone whose place she crashed at after a mysterious night. a party, adventure, etc. etc. maybe they don’t even remember her staying over, maybe she hadn’t been with them to begin with.

employers… she does a lot of odd jobs! knows how to make a lot of things in many different mediums just to earn a small living.

friends… y’know … people who enjoy her presence, likes her oddness. they may not understand her, but they appreciate her. or maybe they do understand her, in their own way!

not friends… philly doesn’t consider anybody an enemy in the slightest, but some people may not be fond of her … think she’s a little too strange, or they refuse to understand her, or something of the likes.

closing in… someone trying to get closer to her, trying to figure her out on a level deeper than what she would like, and she keeps slipping out from between their fingers every time.

mom friend mom friend mom friend… older sibling figures! dad friends! take one look at philly and instantly want to swaddle n protect her.

caught red handed… someone catches her stealing or about to dine-n-dash. do they care? who knows!

late-night shenanigans… they just walk and talk at night … very relaxing … not actually very shenanigans filled…

a dealer… because she wasn’t born on 4/20 for nothing. she’s not turning 20 on 4/20/20 fr nothing. don’t fail us.

debating conspiracies… or superstitions, really anything. maybe they’re frustrated at her apathy surrounding all situations.

no likey… :( they distrust her. probably fr good reason tho … i don’t blame you

thrifting pals… no explanation needed methinks

an eventual hook-up… maybe … possibly … it’s questionable, but it could happen! can’t stay a virgin forever! (or well. she cld. we’ll see!) she’d probably have to trust yr muse a lot though

unrequited romance uwu… probably unrequited on her end because she doesn’t usually think of anybody in a romantic sense - it’s possible, but you’d have to be something special for her to like you back. that being said …

something returned… eventually, slowly. slow. it’ll take time.

maybe something returned !! eventually. slowly. slow.

n like rly anything u want !! anything u can think of i am here 2 fulfill … we can brainstorm all sorts of wacky scenarios!! she’s a thief! she’s an accordion player! she dances naked in the woods! she’s been in the circus AND a small utah county jail!

[allthislove]

I wanna come back to the affirmative action thing, because I’ve been thinking about it for a while and the shit bothers me, okay?

Racial intelligence is a myth. Positive or negative, this is not a real thing. I’m going to talk about the Model Minority Myth and bit here, and also how Black people, especially Black Americans, are seen as inherently stupider than other people.

On one end of the spectrum, you have Asian people, who do well academically. People talk about them like they’re inherently better at school, or smarter than other people.

On the other end, you have Black people, who are thought of as bad students, stupid, incapable of succeeding in school without the assistance of affirmative action.

Neither point makes much sense, because they ask the person listening to imagine that neither Black nor Asian students have individuality. They can’t succeed or fail because of their own merits, but that their success or failure is because of some thing encoded into their DNA. 

In reality, this is socialization. Before I get into this, I wanted to remind the world that Black women are the most educated demographic in America, today, and so what I’m about to talk about is (thankfully) changing, but let’s take a look at what factors help create both of these myths. 

Asian families, especially immigrant families, tend to push education. It’s almost a virtue. Getting good grades became important for some Asian immigrants because they wanted their children to have their best chance. Immigration is hard. Many immigrants (not just Asian immigrants) come here and have to completely start over. Degrees they earned in their home countries sometimes become useless, here, especially if they’re not fluent in English. They often came to this country and had to initially work very menial, hard labor or dirty task jobs that Americans didn’t want. So, they pushed for their children to do well academically, so that they could become something better when they grew up. 

So, right from the start, Asian parents are pushing for their kids to do extremely well in school.

What happened to Black kids, then? People never seem to tell the full story, here, but when I thought about it, it was obvious. I’m working on a play, right now, about Black people in the American South around the time of the first World War. The main character is a young Black woman who “finished” school at the 8th grade level because there wasn’t a school that taught Black people after that in her area. This wasn’t just some random thing I made up for my play. This is the situation that Black people lived in for a very long time, after Emancipation. While some HBCUs were being founded (thought many of them were initially just seminaries or agricultural schools) many parts of the country just didn’t have places where Black people could learn after a certain point. Couple that with a country that really doesn’t give a crap if Black people get good educations and education just never really became the most important thing, for us. 

Black people valued a lot. We valued our stories. We valued our culture, which we built ourselves because most of our original cultures were stolen from us. We valued music. But, we never got a chance to be socialized to value education, because education was not available to us. And then when it was, it was often subpar.

So, right away, you have two completely different situations. One group, largely immigrants who have everything to lose and access to education; education being one of the main reasons to even come here. One group, brought here on slave ships, enslaved, freed, and then kept from good education for decades, if not an actual century. 

The other factor in Asian academic excellence is that, especially at the college level, you have the top students coming to the US specifically to study at American universities. So, already, you’re skewing the numbers.

Anyway. So, Black people weren’t socialized to treat education with the reverence that many immigrant families do. So, once we started to get better access to education by the mid 1960s, most Black people just didn’t find it to be a virtuous thing to have good grades. Good or bad grades are just a thing. Don’t get me wrong. Black parents still get happy when their kids get an A, and upset when their kids get an F. But it was never treated as this all-encompassing thing. It just is what it is. 

Couple that with, you know... a lot of socioeconomic factors that a lot of Black people still live in, and grades and scores just aren’t that important. 

The thing is, that is shifting. A lot. Like, almost the sharpest course correction Black Americans could have. As I mentioned before, Black women are the most educated demographic in America, now. Why did this happen? I’m not exactly sure. A lot of people credit the emergence of images of Black success on TV in the 80s with shows like The Cosby Show and A Different World with sparking this shift. More Black kids saw that it was possible and therefore more Black kids went to college. The thing, though, is that that’s still mostly Millennials and Gen-Z. Meaning barely 1 generation of Black people have started to become more educated. Which also means, like... we haven’t had the time to see what the impact of this is going to be.

The Model Minority Myth for Asians is decades old. Black people even being able to go to PWIs is shorter than the Model Minority Myth. 

I guess what I’m trying to say is... Black people aren’t more educated because education went easier on us than other people. We’re more educated because we’re capable, and we never were not capable. 

Again, affirmative action makes sure you’re not overlooked because of your race. It doesn’t magically create a spot for you just because you’re Black, and especially not because you’re Black in spite of you being undeserving. And the other thing Affirmative Action doesn’t do is change your grades. If a Black student earned a 4.0, they earned the same 4.0 as and Asian student with a 4.0. Black students succeed or fail on their own merit, not because they’re Black. 

And as for poverty... poverty is incredibly difficult to escape, no matter your race. I’m not the best person to speak on Black poverty, because I’m not poor and I grew up comfortably middle class with two college educated and professional parents, so yeah, but I can say that because I grew up like that, it was far easier for me to go to any 4 year college and earn any degree I wanted than it will be for some poor kid living in the projects with a single parent with a GED. I’m not sure why people act like Black poor people are an example of why Black people are inherently bad or stupid. First of all, you can be incredibly good and incredibly smart and still live in the projects and be poor. Second of all, the existence of bad people in the Black race doesn’t mean that all or even most Black people are bad. Third of all, nobody is stupid, and if they seem “stupid” to you, something else is going on. A lack of education. A cognitive disability. Something. “Stupid”, like “crazy”, is a dismissive, and often ableist, word, and basically means nothing. 

And since I brought up the Model Minority Myth, I think I should mention that it’s also very harmful to Asian people, especially students. One, it’s dehumanizing, and makes people hold Asian people to impossible standards that obviously every Asian person can’t meet. And two, it misses the experiences of Asian people who didn’t come here for academic reasons, many of whom don’t have the same “education as a virtue” thing that many specifically East Asian or Indian immigrants have. Like, people who came here as refugees instead of exchange students. Many of those people find that they get left behind by the myth, teachers offer them less help because they’re Asian and are supposed to be “smarter than everyone else”, and they end up falling into a sort of gap. Many of them drop out, and the cycle of poverty continues. And I guess a third, big problem is that it makes colleges and universities judge Asian applicants more harshly and hold them to a higher standard than everyone else, which means that unless you’re a high flying Asian overachiever, you might have a harder time getting into college than your white or Black friends. 

So, anyway, what I’m saying is that assigning a certain intelligence level to someone based on their race is bad and like... America really has a big problem with race and we need to fix it.

Also, we need to do better, as a whole, about understanding why we have the misconceptions that we have. It’s really frustrating, for me, to constantly feel like I have to prove I’m not stupid to strangers because they all assume I am because I’m Black. Or at least less intelligent than they are. And to have to defend my two degrees constantly because old Duck Dynasty looking white guys think I didn’t earn them because of affirmative action. To have to constantly explain that a Black person’s A is the same A as anyone else in the class, because, while teachers do sometimes grade on a curve, it’s not given racially. And that if you answer a question correctly, it’s correct. And if you solve an equation correctly, you solved it correctly. And that the answer doesn’t change for Black people, and that the work isn’t easier. 

And I think people know that it doesn’t make sense, because when you think about it logically, it doesn’t make sense that one group of people is inherently stupid or that another is inherently smart. We understand individuals. We know lots of people, each of us. We know someone who isn’t bright at all, we know someone who is incredibly smart, we know some people like this who are the same race as each other, and even the same race as us. We know they’re different because they’re individual people, and that they don’t represent our entire race. So, why, FOR THE LOVE OF PETE, can we not... as a society... yet understand that race effects our conditions, but does not dictate the type of person we are in the slightest?? Good, bad, smart, pretty, not smart, ugly, short, tall, funny, boring, brave, scared, energetic, whatever the hell... THESE ARE TRAITS THAT MAKE UP INDIVIDUALS, NOT RACES. Race is a lie we tell ourselves to explain why certain people share certain physically features and/or geography. Nothing more. We have built entire societies around this lie, and like... I’m not naive enough to think that race will no longer be a factor any time soon. Some people are far too hung up on their racism for us to truly move on as a society. But I also know that, for us to begin the process of moving on from it, we have to be honest about how it has shaped our society and stop this thing of blaming people for the conditions the society forced on them and how it affected them through the generations. 

This was a lot, and I’m not sure if it’s clear, but yeah. All of this shit is more complicated than you want it to be, and people don’t fit neatly into little stereotype boxes. You have to get that shit out of your head and learn to both see individuals AND understand how history shapes our present reality. 

[musesmilk]

YVONNE HSUAN HO

Incredible storyboard artist Yvonne Hsuan Ho might be new to the comics world, but it won’t be long before everyone knows her name and recognizes her personal, charming stories. Muse’s Milk is pleased to return from our hiatus with such an explementary artist and person. 

“The night before I left New York, I got the storyboard test from We Bare Bears. They were looking for a revisionist, which was an apprentice job and less demanding. After so many fail attempts, I finally was able to get the job. And after a year as a revisionist, I got promoted to be a storyboard artist on the show.”

Muse's Milk: Tell us your story! Yvonne Hsuan Ho: I was born and raised in Taiwan. Ever since I was a kid I loved to draw. My grandparents used to collect free ad papers or brochures from the streets so I could draw on the back of them. They don’t like to waste things, and that habit has influenced me ‘til today. I still save single side printed papers so I can draw on the back. 

My mother worked as a civil servant for the cultural department of Taiwanese government, she got an opportunity to transfer to New York when I was in middle school. My English wasn’t that good back then, I didn’t fit in at all in the US public middle school. I thought I was going to get bullied, but some classmates noticed my drawings, and they would request art commissions from me, some even paid me. I think art saved me from being bullied. I went to high schools in both New York and Taiwan. Every time I transferred, the school made me start from the first year. I went to three high schools and was a freshman three times. I eventually got frustrated, quit high school and got a GED instead. Then I applied to School of Visual Arts, and came back to New York to study animation.

MM: How did you become a storyboard artist? YHH: My partner and I made a thesis film together in our senior year and we put it online. The recruiter at Cartoon Network during that time, Megan, really liked our film, she contacted us and offered us a tour at CN. We started getting tests from various shows after we graduated. It was really hard at first, I got rejected by every show I tested for. While I was in New York, I worked at an independent animation studio called Augenblick. The job required me to work at a fast pace and be adaptable to different style, so it helped me improve in no time. I eventually decided to move to LA with or without a job offer. I was on the student visa and my time was running out, so it was a leap of faith sort of thing. The night before I left New York, I got the storyboard test from We Bare Bears. They were looking for a revisionist, which was an apprentice job and less demanding. After so many fail attempts, I finally was able to get the job. And after a year as a revisionist, I got promoted to be a storyboard artist on the show.

MM: Why is animation important to you personally? Did you consider another career path at any point? YHH: I’ve always been fascinated by animation. I grew up watching Ghibli films, Cartoon Network, Disney and whatever animation programs they have on tv. When I was younger I wanted to be a manga artist or a writer, I didn’t think of animation as a real career until much later, but I did always know I would end up doing art. Animation is a little bit of everything. There’s the writing part, the drawing part, and the acting part. Even some video editing and messing around with sound/music. When I made films in school, I always loved how much I get to be in control of everything.

MM: ​What do you want readers to know about you? YHH: When I’m not making storyboards I like to draw short comics. I just started making zines recently, and it was so much fun! I didn’t know there was a whole indie comic communities, and there are zine fests all year round. I usually post my short comics online, most of them are just about my day to day life. If you have never made a zine, you should try it! You can make it small and cheap so the stakes are really low, but it’s a good way to experiment with different styles and content!

[8osbabe]

Could you write a modern AU but the Socs and Greasers are actually friends, and everyone is a reincarnation of themselves from the 60s? And Pony's like hanging out with Bob or something and all of a sudden he gets flashes of his past life (Johnny dying, Dally being shot, Soda leaving for Vietnam) and it scares the shit out of him because it seems so real

the modern au! only one person asked for. i really liked writing this and can write more if anybody’s interested.

———

“it’s completely corrupt, the whole institution, really. i mean, yeah, the movie was decent, and of-the-moment considering the area fifty one craze, but so were the other twenty-something alien movies that came out this year.”

cherry valance sets her latte down on the table. the way she frowns when she looks back up at him almost has ponyboy curtis worried that she’s about to say something serious.

“ponyboy,” she reaches out to touch the hand he’s resting on the table, as if she’s gearing up to break the news. “it was a bad movie.”

“it was a modern take on a cult classic movie based on the sixties. it rivals Grease, it might’ve even been better.”

ponyboy takes a condescending sip from his iced black coffee, another one of his hipster habits.

“actually, i’m sorry that today’s society is so far removed from quality cinematic masterpieces. they were better, then.”

cherry smiles softly to herself, the kind of smile that went well with her eyes. ponyboy hadn’t really liked green eyes, like his own, until he’d met her.

“curtis, if you are ever getting a girlfriend, you’re going to have to stop acting like a holier-than-thou indie-kid.”

she casts a dramatic glance at the coffee shop they were sitting outside of. she hadn’t heard of it until ponyboy referred to it as “the last place that serves decent coffee.” ponyboy would rather die than set foot in a mainstream starbucks.

ponyboy laughs. “how am i going to get on without you to tell me how it is?”

“it’s only two weeks, pony. i’ll be back before you know it. it’s just—,” she gets a far away look in her eyes before continuing. “bob’s parents are always doting on him with vacations, but he figures this one will be bearable if i go with him.”

“ah, yes, ‘always getting doted on with vacations,’ oh the horror,” he answers sarcastically, leaning back in his seat. he’d never thought bob sheldon was good enough for cherry. wasn’t it always that way when it came to your best friends?

“ponyboy,” cherry scolds. “you don’t have to like him, but you could at least try to understand him.”

“yeah. you’re right, i’m sorry.”

ponyboy’s cell phone chimes, lighting up to reveal a text from darry.

“shoot. i’ve got to go help darry pack.”

“i should go finish getting my things, too.”

she rises from her seat and pulls ponyboy into a tight hug.

“tell darry i said hi, okay? good luck, pony.”

“you’re the one who needs the luck,” he smiles, and cherry stares pointedly at him before walking away with a grin.

back home, darry’s putting the last few of his clothes into a cardboard box. there’s not much darry can take to college since he’ll be living in an eight by twelve dorm.

ponyboy runs a hand through his sweaty hair, winded from the walk home. “is that the last of it?”

“think so.” darry sighs, and looks at ponyboy sentimentally. it’s out of character for darryl, and frankly it makes ponyboy uncomfortable.

“i’m gonna’ miss you, alright?” ponyboy wants to laugh at his brother’s aggressive affection.

“—and when i get back, you better have dyed that back,” he says gesturing dramatically towards pony’s box dyed hair. “and you better get your license.” there he is.

“yeah, yeah.” it was embarrassing being the only sixteen year old he knew without a license, but he figured it wouldn’t be necessary if he couldn’t afford a car. darry was only going to college on a scholarship, else he’d be stuck in this town forever.

he hushes his voice down to a near-whisper, glancing at the bathroom door where soda was showering down the hall.

“—talk soda down from enlisting, will you? i don’t think i’m getting through to him. if he studies, gets his GED, he can do anything else.” he sighs. “i’ll be sending you guys a paycheck every month, so don’t let him use money as en excuse, alright?”

ponyboy nods, and he’s relieved when he sees johnny cade walk through the screen door.

“hey pony, you busy?”

“not at all,” he picks up a deck from off of a shelf.

“cards?”

johnny nods and moved to sit down across from him at the dining room table as ponyboy shuffles the cards.

“where ya’ been, johnnycake?”

“at the lot. they kicked me out actually, seems they’re going to start building there or somethin’.”

“i ran into randy, actually.”

“oh?” ponyboy asks. he knew randy well enough from school, and even though he was bob’s friend, he liked him alright. “is his head still stuck in the seventies?”

“like hell. he was there protesting the build site. apparently they’ve got important plant life there.”

“he’ll get over it, being a hippie, it’s all just a fad.”

johnny cade laughs curtly. “a fad, huh? almost as unbearable as yours.”

ponyboy just shakes his head and deals the cards, noticing a bruise on johnny’s knuckles.

“what’s that about? you fight with your parents again?”

johnny sighs. “yeah, i punched a wall. mom got to talking about wishing she’d never had me, and god maybe she’s right, y’know?”

“come on, johnnycake,” ponyboy pats him on the shoulder. “who would keep dallas from killing me if you weren’t around?”

“speak of the devil.” dallas winston pushes open the front door, his expression sour but he was doing a decent job of hiding it. he’d listened in on the conversation with johnny.

“aw, dally, take that shit outside, you are not smoking in my house.” ponyboy generally avoided smoking, since it was unhealthy, but he’d be lying if he said he never thought about taking it up just because it looked cool.

dallas blows smoke in ponyboy’s face. “what can i say? i’m a classic man. won’t find me smoking that flavor-vapor junk.”

“whatever, man, have fun living to the ripe old age of next tuesday,” ponyboy retorts, rolling his eyes.

“i ain’t ever gonna’ die,” dallas disappears into the kitchen, probably to raid the fridge.

ponyboy shudders. when he blinks, it’s gone, but for a moment he could have sworn he saw dallas with bullet holes through his back, chest, head.

“you alright, pony?” johnny looks concerned.

ponyboy shakes his head. “i don’t know, i’ve just been having a lot of these nightmares lately. weird thoughts, intrusive-like. i’ll just tell my shrink next time i go.”

johnny seems unsatisfied with the answer.

“is it about your parents, like before?”

“—not my parents. us, all of us.”

ponyboy looks through the window.

the sun was setting.

the horizon was gold.

[morbid-n-macabre]

*UPDATE 8/13/19* Court for the restraining order was today, and it was granted. FOR LIFE! That's pretty rare! He stared at her the throughout the entire time, just stared! Maybe trying to intimidate? Didn't work! I'm so proud of her!

If you share this and it's flagged, appeal it as I did. They will reinstate the post.

This is my oldest daughter, Andrea, and she has asked me to write her story and post it. This is extremely important as it may help someone else, and hopefully save future victims. Young women everywhere, but especially in Southwest Florida, they need to be aware of this guy!

This is what my daughter normally looks like.

This Monday, July 28th of 2019, my 18 year old was beaten by her first love; he beat the hell out of her while driving down the road, never even pulled over. The argument began because he'd stolen her debit card and taken money from it, so she was asking for her money back. He became violent. She attempted to jump out the moving vehicle, Brandon grabbed her by her hair; she tried calling for help, he threw her phone. As he was bashing her in the back of the head, he also stuck his thumb inside her eyeball, breaking her prescription glasses. In the photos you'll notice that my baby's eyes are crossed due to this woman beating punk!

I will say that i am proud of my girl; Andrea is 4'11" tall and she only wears a size ten, while her attacker is 6 foot and 160 lbs. If you look at the mugshot you'll see that she finally stuck up for herself. My girl is a powerhouse; there's only so many times you can kick a dog before they bite back! Thankfully a passing motorist witnessed what was going on and notified police; Brandon Gray Farris was arrested. He called her literally dozens of times while in jail, I guess he figured that he could sweet talk her into taking him back. He burnt that bridge, she's 100% done.

The next night my baby sat on my bed and told me that this wasn't the first time he abused her, it's been going on for months. It started with insults: You're stupid, you're fat, you're a loser who doesn't even have a GED. Nobody else will ever want you, and on and on. He isolated her from each of her friends, wasn't allowed to talk in the phone, wear makeup, or leave the house without him. He even had GPS on her phone so he knew where she was at all times, and she was forced to quit the job she loved so much. Then a couple months later the violence began. He would mostly beat her in the back of the head so the bruises wouldn't be visible to her loved ones. We noticed marks on her, but were told it was from rough sex. My 18 year old was a VIRGIN when she met this bastard! She is a good girl with an amazing heart! At one point he choked her out; she heard something pop in her neck, and she lost consciousness more than once. She honestly thought Brandon was going to murder her! The choking incident was more than a month ago, and she STILL has a knot the size of a half dollar from where she felt that pop! On the 4th of July my family always hoes on vacation: my mom gets a suite, and we all go away. Andrea went missing for several hours on the 4th, we didn't know where she was. When she came back, she said Brandon had been crying because our family didn't like him. And we didn't, we always had a bad feeling about this guy; he seemed so fake, always telling us what we wanted to hear, plus the right sec stuff didn't sit right. Come to find out, during those hours in which she'd been missing they'd been in the SUV his daddy had just gifted him and he'd beaten her again; bashed her in the head repeatedly. He was so angry he wrecked his new vehicle.

After these incidents, Brandon would cry and swear he was gonna change, or he'd tell her it never happened (gaslighting) and that she was a "Crazy psycho". When she would try and break up with this piece of human garbage, he would threaten to kill himself or he'd threaten to murder her and then himself; my daughter was afraid to tell. My daughter has admitted that she was forced to be intimate with this piece of human garbage more than once!

We have since found out that this is a pattern with Brandon Farris. We now know that at 20 years of age he targets younger, inexperienced girls; at least two of his exes have been beaten by him, and from what we've been told they have gotten restraining orders on him as well. My daughter had had several young ladies message and/or call her to tell their stories of abuse with this guy; they were afraid to press charges, feeling that he would kill them if they did so. This is a cycle, and he's going to end up killing someone; we've also heard horror stories of abuse from a closed family member of Brandon's. Yet he's manipulative af, and tells everyone that they're only seeing her side of the story. He's the true victim here! I study and write about criminals, it's my passion, it's what I am educated in. This man is a talented narcissist, yet disorganized. I'm willing to bet everything that I own that Brandon is a sociopath.

My baby is broken right now. She's hurt physically, and her eye is crossed from where he stuck his finger inside her eyeball, her finger is broken. After all this happened we took photos of my daughter in a bikini for evidence, her entire body is covered in bruises; some are older, some newer. Many were finger indent bruises from where he'd grabbed her. It's all documented. But even more worrisome, as someone who personally suffers from PTSD myself, I now see it in my daughter. I unexpectedly touched her earlier and she freaked out, crying, shaking, and screaming. At the hospital her normally percent blood pressure was 168/100. My heart is shattered.

Andrea is beside herself, and she just wants to be with her daddy, Lynn, and she's crying for her Uncle Jeremy (my brother who she doesn't even get along with) probably because she knows he would die protecting her. Her daddy took some time off work (he has accumulated vacation time) and the day after Brandon was arrested we took our daughter to the courthouse to file for a protection order and make sure charges had been filed against him. Yes, she has an appointment to see a counselor this coming week. This is a photo of her and her daddy walking into the courthouse.

My daughter, Andrea, wants her story told. She wants his next victim to see what happened to her when she googles his name. Maybe we can save Brandon's next victim, we wish that someone had warned us.

I am only sharing this photo of Brandon and my daughter because it's the only one I have of him. His name is Brandon Farris, his insta account is brandito_the_bandito. If you live in Southwest Florida, please beware this sociopath. If you're interested in hearing more of her story, her insta account is named in many of the photos. Thank you for reading 💙 be safe ladies. We have to stick together, we MUST help keep one another safe from people like this. Watch out for red flags such as these, and TELL SOMEBODY! Message me, message my daughter, message SOMEONE! Nobody deserves to be abused!

Fort Myers, Florida, Brandon Gray Farris, date of birth 9/11/97

[aidenoconnorx]

-- Hey is that [CHRIS WOOD]? No, that’s just [AIDEN O'CONNOR]. They’re [THIRTY-ONE], and have spent [TWO YEARS] in Dayton. I hear that they’re kind of [PASSIONATE], but also [SECRETIVE]. Did you hear their vices are [ADRENALINE & ADVENTURE]? Can’t wait to see [HE] at the next party! 

warning: mentions of abuse, cigarette burns, neglect, bullying

full name: aiden cian o’connor

nickname: 

age: thirty-one

date of birth: august 15

place of birth: nowhere, ky

zodiac: leo

gender: cis-male

nationality: american

sexual orientation: pansexual

romantic orientation: panromantic

relationship status: single *

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES.

height:  6”0’

weight: 172 lbs

hair color: brunette

eye color: blue

need glasses/contacts? yes

tattoos: Northstar tattoo on his left shoulder blade and a few smaller ones to cover up cigarette burns. Plans on getting another to conceal the one at the nape of his neck

distinguishing marks: cigarette burns on the nape of his neck, usually hidden by scraggly hair

BACKGROUND INFORMATION.

hometown: nowhere, ky

current residence: dayton, ca

past residences: none but has temporarily stayed in several

living arrangement: apartment 

spoken languages: english

financial status: just came into some money through his career

education level: some high school, dropped out but got his ged

occupation: author || blogger

FAMILIAL INFORMATION.

father: wade meadows. 58. doesn’t know where he is/how he’s doing and doesn’t care.

mother: farrah meadows. 56. that’s more complicated.

siblings: sister ( 23 ) and a younger brother & sister ( twins, 21 )

children: none

pets? a hedgehog named elton

other: liam o’connor. psuedo father, deceased.

PERSONALITY.

positive traits: energetic. outgoing. adventurous. helpful.

negative traits: secretive. rowdy. dramatic. reckless. 

likes: dogs. sunny weather. playing music. comics. trash tv (jerry springer, toddlers & tiaras, etc). drag queens (ru paul’s drag race). jogging in the rain. trying new things. talking to people. reading. volunteering. writing. wandering. kids. whiskey

dislikes: being alone too long. feeling ‘stiff’. awkward silence. being pigeon holed. bigots. blue pens. shaving. the cold. political movies. rooms without windows. shrimp. sweet potatoes. spiders. scratchy fabrics. douche bags. sharing his writing. too much tech ( has a flip phone and a cruddy laptop)

quirks: drums on everything. laughs at his own jokes. easily cold. talks to himself when trying to figure something out. always has change in his or her pocket to give to beggars or homeless. takes stupid bets/dares for small amounts of money. cosplays once or twice a year for charity/children’s ward. takes sleeping pills. good at card tricks.

moral alignment: chaotic good

Aiden’ a very outgoing guy. He’s always looking to meet new people and forge new connections. He was on his own a lot in the beginning of his life and he’s never really liked the feeling, despite what he says, so he makes it a mission to interact with the people around him. He’s easy going, easy to talk to and having been in Dayton about two years or so he’s bound to have plenty of acquaintances. He has several close friends too, but not many that know his whole story. Over the years he’s crafted that ‘I-feel-like-I-have-known-you-forever’ charm without really having to go too deep. One or two really close friends would be great though. 

Aiden's typically positive, even when he’s not, he doesn’t have much of a personal bubble concept, and he isn’t the most tactful. He’s bound to piss some people off. He’s usually pretty oblivious to it, so you have to spell it out for him. And that’s fine.He’ll apologize, if he knows he was wrong, and really, he doesn’t try to offend or bother anyone. Most of the time. He’s old enough to know you can’t get along with everyone. He won’t try to change your mind, but won’t go out of his way to avoid you, either. it’s a waste of time. He does get along with most though. He’s protective, having raised his siblings he’s got that older brother vibe always. He ain’t afraid to get gritty, and he’s pretty equipped when it comes to life skills. Need your plumbing looked at? He’s got you. Need a meal? Got you there too. Car fixed? Bring it.  Hair braided? Hell yeah. He’s a jack of all trades, but his main one is writing. It’s something he keeps close to his vest, but his mentor/father figure got it on an agent’s desk about four years ago and well-- he actually got published. It was a game changer. But he’s still super private about it.

As for love, Aiden has never really been in love. He’s had crushes, yes. Relationships, yes. But he’s never told anyone he’s been ‘in love’ with them. It’s a serious thing to him, it carries immense weight, so he doesn’t plan on saying it unless he’s sure he means it. He’s up for anything else though. One nighters, dates, flings, fwb, whatever with whoever. If you can get past his constant flirting and somewhat obnoxiousness, he can be a really sweet guy. He takes care of who he’s with and he isn’t afraid of exclusivity. He been in more than a few relationships (some good, some bad) back in Kentucky and a maybe one or two since coming to Dayton. It’s a good feeling, but it doesn’t define him.

THE RUN DOWN.

CHILDHOOD; there’s no reason to specify where aiden grew up in Kentucky. you won’t find it on a map and he likes it that way. his childhood isn’t important either. it’s not something he prefers to talk about and if asked he’s very vague about it. he might even lie about it, but the truth is, it wasn’t happy one and the cigarette burns on the nape of his neck and shoulder (these are covered) are proof enough. 

ADOLESCENCE; at eleven, his parents defected to god knows where. it left him, his three siblings, ages three and barely two. he missed three days of school trying to take care of them on what they had. his mother waltz in on the fourth as if nothing happened. it was a teacher of he confided in, one he stayed close to for years after. but defax didn’t exactly care. it was the first of many disappearances. sometimes it was a day, sometimes more. It was something he grew used to and by the time he was in middle school, he had surrendered to the fact he was the parent in this scenario. he had a hard time keeping up in high school. he was missing school to work under the table jobs and when he was at school, fights broke out and after about the fourth one, his teacher was done. they had a big blow out...making aiden realize his pride wasn’t worth it. he buckled down and leaned in to what his teacher was saying. without going into too many details, aiden began to flourish. his sullen and quiet demeanor shifted into the laughter and curiosity he once had. his grades improved and yeah, he was still picked at but the fighting stopped. it was like a page out of a fairy tale for him and he embraced it, wholeheartedly, no questions asked.

TWENTIES; unfortunately he didn’t make it through high school. he had to work, but he had o’connor’s support. he helped him study for his GED on the side and helped him as much as he could with his siblings. Things weren’t amazing, but they were manageable.  They survived and unlike him, his siblings stayed in school. He’d kill’em if they didn’t. He worked his ass off to get them through and in the little time he wasn’t? He wrote. He poured anything and everything he heard, felt, and experienced into journal upon journal. It cathartic mostly, but just as his little sister graduated high school, O’Connor managed to get one on the desk of an agent. How? He refused to say, the next week the agent was on Aiden’s door step, ready to change his life. Four years ago, he was published under a pen name and since then life has been smoother. the cash flow helped his siblings and by the time they were all comfortable in college, Aiden began to travel and live the life he’d always dreamed of.

THIRTIES; He hopped from place to place, living on the bare minimums to get a full experience. Writing it all down as he jumped outta planes, tried different local food-- just trying new things. By the time he reached Dayton, his agent was begging for something new too. His blogging and the mysteriousness around him as an anonymous author was fading. He needed something new so he settled. He didn’t intend to stay but-- in a thriving place like Dayton, a place without restriction and full of endless sins and passion? How could he not? It’s done wonders for his muse while still feeding his adrenaline fix. What’s not to like?

[kusunogatari]

[ There’s Always a Mess ] [ @abyssaldespair​ ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Hatake Kakashi ] [ Vulgarity, blood ] [ Verse: Of Monsters and Men ]

He’s always the last to know about anything.

True, his role isn’t exactly high up on the corporate ladder, but he’s still involved in the most basic parts of this place. The fact that they keep things like this from him is irritating, to say the least. How’s he supposed to do his job if the core mechanics are kept from him?

A janitor has to know his workplace!

For a month, the aquarium is kept under the tightest security he’s ever seen - a new exhibit, being built fairly close to the entrance, has everyone hushed up. And Obito really has no idea what the fuss is about. Even if it’s some rare specimen, then...whoop de doo. It’s still just a fish. Or maybe a mammal. Whatever. The point is, despite being the head of the sanitation department, he isn’t being told what the hell is going on. Which, to him, seems irresponsible. He’s going to have to know how to keep up this new exhibit, after all!

Maybe the grandeur is a bit lost on him. This wasn’t exactly his dream career, after all. But a teenagehood of delinquency and a few small charges as a young man left a bit of a stain on his record, and...well, this is the best he could manage. And Obito is a stubborn guy. So all he could do was become a janitor? Then he was going to be the best damn janitor he could be! And lo and behold, a mere five years after getting his GED and landing this job, he leads his department. Sure, it isn’t glamorous...but he’s independent. What else could he ask for?

...besides maybe some kind of social life.

His best friend is a teacher, and they meet up every so often, but...Kakashi’s life is a stone’s throw from Obito’s now. Their circles have diverged.

And telling girls he’s a janitor at an aquarium hasn’t exactly landed him any second dates, either.

But that’s all besides the point. Because today is the day. The big reveal is tomorrow, and the staff are finally being briefed on the new exhibit. About damn time, in Obito’s opinion. He’s going to have to adjust everyone’s schedules to cover an entirely new exhibit on top of everything else, allocate supplies...ugh.

They go department by department to cover what each will need to know, and of course custodial is last. And...to Obito’s surprise, he’s the only one asked inside the board room. Great. They’re leaving the work of filling in everyone else to him, rather than doing it themselves.

Jerks.

Still, he doesn’t let his grouchiness show, heading in and taking a seat.

“All right, Obito,” the director begins, standing on the opposite side of the table, hands gripping the spine of a chair. “So we’re doing a bit of an...adjustment in your department for this new attraction.”

...oh no. What’s that supposed to mean? “Uh...all right.”

“You will be the only custodial staff - at least for groundwork - allowed into the exhibit. The actual tank crews are a separate unit of course, and they’ve already been briefed. But given your...history with this business, we’re entrusting it to you, and you alone.”

A dark brow perks in question. “I’m...glad you trust me, but...is it really so important?”

“Oh, we’ll get to that. But first -” the man hands over a new keycard, which Obito accepts “- your new security clearance for the exhibit.”

“...thanks.”

“And I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear you’ll be getting a raise, as well. Another quarter on the dollar!”

Okay, that...actually surprises him. “...thank you, sir.”

“Now…” The director smiles, and Obito knows that smile. It’s the smile of a man expecting to make a lot of money. The only question is...how? “Our latest exhibit is one of a species never before seen by mankind. Something that, until a few months ago, was thought to be little more than a legend.”

Obito just...awaits a reveal. What, like...a giant squid? Godzilla?

“We are the first aquarium in the world to have, on display...a living, breathing mermaid.”

Obito blinks. And...blinks again. “Wait, you’re...you’re serious?”

“Completely. Now, some places have put on shows with actresses pretending to be one, and it works for kids...but this is the real deal, Obito.” The grin remains firmly in place. “Now, unfortunately...I can’t let you in to see her quite yet, but you will! You’ll be working after hours only to get things all tidied up, and keep interference with the guests to an absolute minimum. The tank crews will come in before we open, so you won’t have to worry about them getting in your way, or vice versa. You’ll have from closing at eight until midnight to work on her area seven days a week, and then you’ll have another four hours during the day for three days in the rest of the aquarium as per usual. That way you’re still full time: none of your benefits will be impacted. Does that sound agreeable?”

...huh. For some reason it just...isn’t hitting him. Maybe because so far this is all just talk, and he hasn’t seen it yet. “...yes, sir.”

“Wonderful! Then all you’ll have to do tomorrow is be here for the after hours work: we’ll ease you into it. The rest of the schedule you can work out with your department. I can’t wait for you to meet her!”

Obito manages a brief, mostly-forced smile before standing, shaking the director’s hand, and...being excused to finish his shift. Looking down at his new keycard, he can’t help but...frown.

...a mermaid, huh? Well that’s...neat.

Glancing back to the door, he then just...carries on to the rest of his shift, doing so quietly as he’s lost in thought. At least he can sleep in tomorrow. He’s worked nights before, and honestly he sort of prefers it. And working alone will be nice. But still, something about this all just seems...well, odd. It’s like someone telling him that yes, a pig really did fly today, and they’re now displaying it at the local zoo.

Partly he just can’t believe it. And the rest of him, after a bit of thought, realizes that it...bothers him. Of course the first thing humans would do with something like this is make a spectacle out of it. What if the thing is intelligent? Sentient? It’d be like putting any other human being in a cage and gawking at it!

...well, maybe it’s just an animal. And maybe being somewhere with security is better than the poor thing being pulled apart and studied by some scientist somewhere.

He’ll just have to see tomorrow.

Either way, he heads back to his apartment after his shift, still partially off as the rest of his day passes. But eventually he manages to shove his thoughts aside enough to sleep.

...then he has another entire day to wait.

It’s a Saturday, and that means extra crowds even if they weren’t debuting a brand new exhibit. He can only imagine how things are going to explode once word gets out, especially online. Sitting and sullenly sipping his coffee, Obito wonders if there are any others, or if this is the only one. Surely there must be...they wouldn’t give the only specimen away like that. They’d want at least some behind closed doors...to be studied, like he thought yesterday.

It makes him grimace.

By the time he’s expected to be there, Obito’s been lingering outside the exhibit for twenty minutes, not quite daring to go in yet despite his clearance. Only once another member of the staff briefs him does he muster up the courage.

“So just follow the standard procedures of the rest of the building. All the supplies are in a marked closet, and are for use in this area only. Need anything else, just radio.”

“Er...thanks.” Watching them go, he looks to the entry doors.

A true-to-life Ariel! a sign proclaims with a rather exaggerated silhouette of a woman half-human, half fish.

Well...here goes nothing.

The first thing he notes? This place is huge…! A tank bigger than any other in the aquarium sits along the left side, with a shape that curves in and out along a path that follows around the entire edge to a door on the other end. Informational signs are atop pedestals every few feet, the glass reaching from floor to ceiling: fifteen feet high. Even from here, he can’t see how much depth the tank has across, but he can tell it’s above and beyond the rest by far.

Lights illuminate the water, and very slowly, Obito steps further into the room. At first...he doesn’t see anything. Sand fills the bottom of the exhibit, dotted with rocks, coral, aquatic plants, and ridiculous decorations like fake shipwrecks. At least she has places to hide…

Which...he supposes explains why he can’t see her. Following the walkway slowly, he scans the water as best he can to no avail.

Seems she’s done for the day.

...he can’t help but be disappointed.

Either way, he has a job to do. There’s a fair amount of trash - to be expected, given the sheer volume of people that likely made their way through here today. He starts there, picking up as much refuse as he can by hand with his gloves before moving on to vacuuming, and then mopping.

All the while, he gives curious glances up.

Still nothing.

...she is in there, right?

Sighing to himself, he keeps going, eventually losing himself more in the task than his curiosity. Only once he goes from one end to the other and replaces his supplies for glass cleaner and a long-handled scrubber does he freeze.

From the porthole of the sunken ship, he can see mirror-like reflections. Two of them. Just...staring at him.

...he stares back.

They don’t blink, which...unsettles him. But after several minutes of a stalemate, he shifts a bit. Still no reaction, and it’s getting late.

Carefully, he turns to head back toward the entrance. Maybe it’s not her, just...something for people to think is her, to keep them...occupied? Either way, he starts spraying down the glass. Though there’s a railing serving as a buffer, it’s still littered with handprints. Wonderful. Using the handled mop, he wipes from top to bottom in a long-practiced manner.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, a dart of movement!

Startling, he almost drops the mop, clinging to it and watching. Something dips into a small forest of kelp, and he stares, doing his best not to blink, should he miss it.

Then, very slowly, a dainty pair of hands part through the greenery, urging it aside to peer out dolefully. Like before, a pair of eyes look like silver mirrors, almost a bit too large for her pale face, which he can barely see in the shifting expanse of kelp.

For a moment, he almost forgets to breathe.

They both linger, unmoving, for several minutes, studying one another. Then, ever so slowly, she makes her way out from her hiding place.

From her scalp grow pure white, wavy tresses that float freely in the water. Her skin is nearly snowy, almost translucent, which flows seamlessly into the colorless, shining scales of her tail. Unlike the traditional mermaid’s tail that lays flat like a whale’s, hers is more like an actual fish: upright, waving slowly side to side to propel her forward. And unlike her small cousins, her gills rest not in her neck...but along her ribcage on either side, just beneath the line of her bust.

...which Obito then notices is very much nude, and he can’t help but go bright red.

But she keeps watching him, her expression almost akin to a curious child. Approaching the glass, she softly lets a palm rest against the surface.

Her fingers are webbed.

Still clutching his mop, Obito isn’t sure what to do. But after a pause, he very carefully lifts his own hand - still covered in a protective glove.

...it makes hers look so small.

Head tilting, she seems to consider the size, peering at it curiously. Then her eyes lift to the mop, and her pupils grow to a nearly ridiculous size.

At once he’s reminded of those pouncing cat videos, and...Obito gets an idea. Slowly, as not to startle her, he lowers it back to the glass.

She moves to follow it, palm to the surface.

Then he moves it to the right.

She follows.

To the left.

Follows.

In spite of himself, he grins. Spraying more cleaner, he starts scrubbing...and the mermaid gives chase. Like a kitten with a ball on a string, she darts to and fro in pursuit, Obito ramping up his speed until he’s running up and down the walkway like a madman, the mermaid easily keeping up and trying to catch her fabric quarry. Unable to help laughing aloud, he goes until he’s completely out of breath, leaning back against the wall and sliding to sit along the floor.

Sinking to the sand, she lays along her belly and patiently waits, watching him.

“...well, at least I know you’re playful,” he muses, wagging the mop and observing her eyes tracing its movements. Still grinning as he taunts her, there’s a pause as he notices something.

...she’s got some kind of...collar on.

Brow furrowing, he lifts to his feet, setting aside his supplies. She almost looks disappointed, staring at the discarded mop before looking to him. Obito cranes, trying to look more closely at her neck.

Understanding brightens her, and then...she dims. Adjusting her posture, she lifts her chin, putting her throat on full display. A webbed hand gently brushes against it.

It’s a ring of metal clasped tightly to her neck. Practically putting his nose to the glass, Obito squints. It almost looks like…?

Sorrow pinches her expression, and a turn aside of her head shows him what really makes the collar wicked: it’s screwed into her neck. Puncturing her skin!

Why?!

Obito can’t help but gape openly. What the hell is that supposed to accomplish besides being extremely painful? Is it some kind of...method of control? Tracking? Can’t they do something like a microchip instead, like with pets? What reason do they have for being so, so...barbaric?

Seeing his aghast expression, she wilts. Laying her hand against the glass, a look of somber defeat darkens her face.

“...I’m so sorry.”

Though muted through the glass, she hears him speak, glancing up.

“...I’ve got something a bit like that,” Obito offers. Holding his arm aloft, he rolls back his sleeve, showing scars. “I’ve got, er...pins. In my bones. Some plates, too. From a wreck when I was younger. Screws holding things together, but…” His brow furrows, lowering the limb back down. “...that’s not what those are for, is it?”

To his surprise, she sadly shakes her head.

...she...she understands him…?

“Then...what does it do?”

She looks hesitant. Apparently she can’t speak, which...makes sense. Or maybe he can’t hear her? Either way, she doesn’t attempt to explain verbally. Instead, she brings her hand back to the glass, thumping lightly.

After a confused pause, he does the same.

Her other hand makes a tugging motion, so he removes his glove.

A few more times, she pounds the glass, pointing from her hand, to his. Then to her tail, and his legs.

...wait…

“...you...you can change shape? You mean you can look like a human?”

She brightens, nodding quickly. But then webbed hands wrap around her throat with a pained expression.

“...that...keeps you from changing?”

Another nod.

“But...how?”

Looking at a loss, she shakes her head. Apparently that’s too complicated to pantomime.

“...so you are a person. And they know that. And yet...you’re in here. To make them money…” He spits the last word. “What the fuck is wrong with them…”

She doesn’t have an answer.

“...and you can’t get that off, can you?”

A shake of her head.

“Get me in there with some bolt cutters, I’d get that thing off…” He fades into grumbling, actually considering heading in to the tank team’s access point. But something tells him he likely doesn’t have clearance.

No wonder security has been such a big deal…and he knows well enough this is all going on camera.

But once he quiets, Obito realizes this is...all a bit much. So, mermaids are real. They can change their shape, which doesn’t sound possible. What else is out there that humans believe to be fantasy that he doesn’t know about? Vampires, werewolves, hell maybe dragons…? It all makes his head spin a bit, and he leans his brow against the glass with a grunt.

Looking sympathetic, the mermaid does the same, mimicking his posture.

“...I feel like a really shitty person just leaving you in there,” he mutters. “But what can I do about it? I don’t even think I can get in there...let alone know what to do with you once I do. At best I get fired, at worst I get sued into the ground or like...hitman’d for messing with something this big. I mean...a mermaid? That’s...that’s huge!”

All she can do is listen, just as unsure.

“You think there’d be people upset about all this…”

“Well well...I had a feeling I’d end up running into you.”

Startling at the voice despite its familiarity, Obito straightens and gawks. “K...Kakashi? What...what the hell -?”

“I’m here on a little business from my side job,” the other man replies, giving a smile. “Lo and behold, you happen to be involved.”

“Side job? But...you’re a teacher. What are you -?”

“It’s a long story, and I’m afraid there isn’t much time to explain it now,” Kakashi cuts in. “And in fact...having you involved is a bit of a legal matter, but...well, given how out of control this has gotten at all, it’s a bit hard to avoid. I don’t think the Senators are going to kill that many people…”

Obito just...blinks. What the hell is he talking about? Senators? Killing people?! “What’s going on?”

“I’m here to get the little lady out. Y’see...her being seen by humans is a bit of an issue. Not that it was her fault, but a mess is a mess, and I’m good at cleaning them up. A bit like you, but...well, less literally.”

“I...I don’t…”

“I don’t expect you to comprehend on such short notice, but since you’re here...and since you’re being oh so sympathetic...you could lend me a hand, Obito.”

“With what? Getting her out?”

“You work here, don’t you?”

“Yeah, cleaning floors! I don’t have permission to -!”

“Well, ‘permission’ won’t exactly cover what I’m going to do anyway,” Kakashi assures him, a finger to his lips. “More like...assisted breaking and entering. Don’t worry, the security feed is already offline, but that’ll attract attention in and of itself. So I need to be quick. Do you know how to get into the tank?”

“Er...no -?”

“Then I’ll figure it out myself. Unless you feel like helping.” As Kakashi turns to start looking, there’s a pause as Obito grabs his shoulder.

“What’s really going on here?”

Silver brows lift in mild surprise. “...stick around, and maybe I’ll tell you. But for now I’m on a bit of a tight schedule. Hm?”

Hesitating for a moment, Obito then sighs. Well...so much for that raise. He doesn’t understand - especially how the hell Kakashi is involved - but if this’ll help her, then...fine. “...all right. I’ll help.”

“Great! First thing’s first: find a way in, get her out, get that nasty silver business out of her neck, and then make our escape. Simple as that.” With that, Kakashi takes long strides toward a door labeled, “Employees Only”. To Obito’s surprise, his offered keycard opens it. “Now...let’s see…” Up a ladder Kakashi goes, and up into the second floor that sits above the full tanks. Every so often is a hatch used to get down into them. “This looks to be around the right spot…” Squatting and examining the mechanism, Kakashi turns a wheel much like that in a submarine, loosening it until he can lift it and reveal the tank below. “Perfect! Come on over here, sweetheart - we’ll get you loose. But first, that nasty collar…”

Below them, the woman swims up to the gap, breaching her head but keeping her ribs (and therefore her gills) under the surface.

From a bag on his belt, Kakashi pulls a wicked set of cutters. “All right...hold still...this is going to sting like a bitch.” Ever so carefully, he slips the blades around the metal, giving a snip. She flinches, and then there’s a gasp as he starts to ease out the screws from her neck. Tears quickly well up in her eyes, sliding down already-wet cheeks. A shudder of pain racks her form, reflexively palming at the wounds.

“Shit…” Obito can’t help but swear softly. “What’s that even for?”

“Silver is nasty business for...people like her,” Kakashi offers evasively. “It was keeping her from being able to Shift, or...change form. With it out, she can take a human shape and be able to breathe air, once I get the wounds cleaned from lingering toxicity from the metal.”

“...how do you know all this?”

“Not the time, Obito.”

He scowls, but realizes that no, this isn’t a good time for explanations.

“...I can hear police sirens. I think someone knows I’m here.”

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Not yet, you don’t.” Applying an ointment to the mermaid’s neck, Kakashi asks, “How about now?”

Closing her eyes, she focuses...and in the time it takes Obito to blink, she’s suddenly keeping herself afloat with legs, not fins. “G-good.”

“All right.” With hardly any effort, Kakashi reaches in and takes her under the arms, lifting her to sit on the lip of the hatch. “Sorry, don’t have any garments for you here.”

“I’d rather be naked than wear that thing another moment,” she assures him, voice barely a whisper.

“Well then, we better go.”

“Er…” Watching Kakashi get up, Obito nonetheless shrugs out of his coat. “...here. It’s...not much, but better than nothing.”

Accepting it, she gives him a soft smile. “...thank you.”

“Come on, you two!”

By now, Obito can hear the sirens, and his heart leaps up to his throat as rather sour memories surface of the last time he tangoed with police. And here he thought he was a changed man… Helping her along, they descend back to the first floor. “Now what?”

“Now we get the hell out. Back door.” In one motion Kakashi scoops the woman up, running to said exit. “You coming or not?”

“...guess I don’t have much choice,” Obito mutters, following. “Do you have a car?”

“Nope.”

“What?!”

“I ran.”

“You...ran.”

“Time for big reveal number two,” Kakashi offers. “Just promise you won’t start hollering.”

“Why would I ho-wHAT THE HELL?!”

Turning and snarling, a silver wolf the size of a small car - standing where Kakashi was just a moment prior - clearly warns him to be quiet.

“I...I think we’re meant to ride him.”

“What -?!”

“There isn’t any time! The humans will be here any moment!” Hoping astride the beast, the woman offers him a hand. “...are you coming?”

For some reason, in the back of his mind, Obito gets the feeling that accepting that grip is going to tear him right out of his life and into a whirlwind of chaos. But...he’s already come this far.

Maybe he was getting a bit tired of ‘normal’.

“...this is fucking nuts,” he replies, but takes her hand anyway, surprised at her strength as she hauls him up behind her.

“Hold on!”

Like a shot, Kakashi takes off, leaping over a rear wall and streaking out through alleyways. Obito chokes on a yelp as he clings to the mermaid, who in turn keeps steadying fistfuls of fur in her hands. Very much conscious of her near-nudity, Obito keeps his eyes crammed shut - and even then, the whipping wind would have him tearing up anyway.

Only once they’re miles from the aquarium, the sounds of sirens far behind them, does Kakashi slow to a stop near what appears to be an abandoned building. Shouldering open a door, he lets the pair off before slinking into another room.

Obito and his new companion stand a bit awkwardly, the former very much avoiding looking at the latter.

“Here.”

“Wha-?” With a small oomph, the woman catches a pile of fabric thrown her way.

Human again, Kakashi finishes belting on a pair of pants, still barefoot and shirtless. “Sorry for the rush. I wasn’t exactly allocated much for this. We had to be quick and quiet given the publicity.”

“No, I...I understand.” Realizing the fabric is indeed clothes, she slips into a rather basic-form dress, shyly making to hand Obito his coat. “...thank you.”

“Keep it. It’s chilly.”

She blinks at him, but...sheepishly puts it back on.

“All right, so…” Kakashi claps his hands together. “Introductions. Kakashi Hatake. School teacher by day, Nightwalker Enforcer by night.”

At that, she balks. “Y-you’re an Enforcer?”

“I am. But not to worry - this was a rescue-only mission, little lady. You’re not under arrest. In fact, we’re working on a safehouse for you.”

Still looking taken aback, she wilts in relief. “...thank you. I’m - I’m Ryū. Ryū Suigin. Obviously a, um...mermallian.”

“Obito Uchiha. Human, and fucking confused,” the last of them then cuts in. “What the hell is going on?”

“A lot more than I can fully explain in a night, but here’s the sparknotes,” Kakashi offers. “You’re a human. Or I’m going to assume you are, given you smell like one and you’ve never presented as a Nightwalker to me. Nightwalkers are what humans call monsters. Werewolves,” he offers, gesturing to himself, “mermallians, harpies, vampires...a whole slew of things. You think we don’t exist because we don’t want you to think we exist. Because when you did, you tried to wipe us out. And by you I mean humans, not...you specifically.”

“...all right.”

“I, as I said, am an Enforcer. Basically Nightwalker police, only a bit more...powerful than what you think of when you hear ‘police’. I work to keep the two worlds separate, and safe. Nightwalkers have laws. We call them Mandates. Those are very extreme rules meant to keep ourselves safe from humans. The most important ones deal with keeping ourselves secret. But...as it would inevitably happen, proof sometimes crops up. Like miss Suigin here being caught. Then people like me are sent to clean up the mess. It’s been a while since we’ve had one this, er...obvious.”

At that, Ryū wilts, and Obito shuffles closer to her protectively. “...so is she in trouble?”

“No. As I said, this wasn’t her doing, and it’s too large-scale to handle as we typically do. In other words, silencing all involved parties. Like I said...our laws are harsh, but they have to be. We’ll start planting doubt and evidence that the whole thing was a hoax. Those crazy newspaper levels of fake. Eventually humans will buy into it, and this will all be swept back under the rug. Until then, she’s in protective custody. And we really need to get those wounds looked at. Silver is nasty, nasty business.”

“...so what about me?”

“...what about you?”

“I’m most certainly going to be fired from my job! Possibly get arrested! My life is -!”

“Ruined? Maybe. In fact, I’d say probably. But, you also helped save an innocent young woman from a lifetime of being gawked at and living in constant pain,” Kakashi cuts in, giving an eye-closing smile. “So...think that was worth it?”

That gets Obito to balk a bit, glancing to Ryū sheepishly. “Of...of course it was.”

“Good! Besides, maybe I can see about helping you out. You did aid an Enforcer in official Senate business. There’s probably a reward for you in there somewhere. At the very least we can probably pull some strings to keep you from being implicated in any crime. A job might be another story, but...maybe for old time’s sake. Now...you two sit tight, and I’ll see what my next move needs to be from my boss.” He gives a mock salute before heading into another room, pulling out a cellphone.

There’s a pregnant pause, and then Obito dares to glance to Ryū. She looks a bit afraid, hands clasped at her front and fiddling slightly. His eyes then draw to her neck, which is still flushed and angry around the puncture wounds.

Anger simmers in his gut at the sight, and it solidifies his resolve all the more. “...are you all right?”

Startling slightly, she looks to him before wilting. “I...I’ve just been rather, um...out of sorts the last few months…” Her tone is still so soft, and he can’t help but wonder if that’s the fault of her wounds.

“I can only imagine. But...I mean now. Can I...can I do anything…?”

Expression turning thoughtful, she then gives him a small smile. “...you’re very sweet, but...I think for now there’s not much to do...but thank you. You said your name was...Obito?”

“Yeah. And yours was Ryū?”

“Mhm!”

“Well...the circumstances really sucked, but...it’s still really nice to meet you. Never, uh...met a mermaid before.”

That gets her to laugh wispily into the cuff of his jacket, and the sound makes his belly do flip flops. “Well, I’m honored to be the first! You were...the first human since all of this started to treat me kindly. So...thank you.”

“Of course.” Thinking back over the night, he then flushes pink. “Er...sorry about the mop...thing. I wasn’t sure if you were, y’know...a person. I saw you look at it and…”

“...oh!” Another laugh, and oh man he likes that sound. “To be fair...my reaction was genuine. I’d been stuck in that form for so long, a bit of my mind was more, well...inhuman. I got a little...carried away.” It’s her turn to blush, glancing aside in embarrassment.

Before he can think, Obito blurts, “No, it was cute!”

The pair of them both give a start, faces reddening.

“I...I-I mean...uh -?”

“All right, that’s enough you lovebirds.” Kakashi steps back into the room, now fully dressed and phone slipped back into his pocket. “We’ve got someplace to be.”

“...we? Including me?” Obito asks.

“Including you. And this time we get to use a car. Seems the boss man wants to see me and the pair of you in person.”

“...is that, um...is that good…?” Ryū asks, looking nervous.

“Well, I doubt it’s bad,” Kakashi replies evasively. “But in truth? We’ll know when we get there. I’ve got a car around back - we’ll take that.”

As he turns to lead the way, the others make to follow. To his surprise, Obito feels Ryū bustle up to his side slightly, as though trying to hide behind him.

...well Obito, you’ve gotten yourself into this mess. Might as well see it to the end. Trying to look nonchalant, he lets his arm drape over her shoulders in a gesture of protection.

Besides...that’s what he was hired to do: clean up messes.

     Hello and welcome to another one of Sylvie’s completely random brainchild drabbles xD I’ve wanted to do more of this verse for a while, and experimenting with different creature types is so much fUN!      So yes, back in my original monsters verse! This time with human!Obito, and mermallian!Ryū. And ofc werewolf!Kakashi cuz that’s the only Nightwalker that fits him, bahaha~ And they’re BUSTING HER OUT OF FISH PRISON. Cuz...reasons!      ...it’s really random, I’m sorry, but most of the drabbles on my to-write list are, so...prepare your butts for more, hehehe~ But uh...that’s about it for this? Not much else to say besides, uh...hope you liked it? lmao      *scuttles back under my rock*

[endlessflame]

Lost and Found (Logan x MC)

Summary: After breaking up with Logan, Maribel discovers that she is pregnant with their child.

Rating: M

Content warnings: pregnancy loss

Author’s note: This is for Ride or Die Appreciation Week.

Tags: @cora-nova @desiree-0816 @brightpinkpeppercorn @client-327 @choicesarehard @poeticscolt @queenkaneko

Maribel stared at the two lines on the test stick, her fears confirmed. She was pregnant.

She was such an idiot! It wasn't as if she didn't know that this could happen. But when she was staying with Logan, things hadn't gone that far. She had no idea that Riya would arrange a hotel room for her and Logan on prom night. Logan hadn't known either. The mood and the setting were perfect, and it felt so right. And she had already been living dangerously; this was just one more risk, and she figured that the odds were in her favor. It was just one time. Except it ended up being two times, since it happened again when they stayed at Vaughn's house. They were hiding from the Brotherhood, so they didn't exactly have time to go out and buy condoms. And for all she knew, it was her last night alive. Of course she wanted to spend it with Logan.

She missed him so much. Now she was pregnant with his child, and she had to go through it alone. She threw the test stick into the trash and began to cry.

She washed her hands, then rushed into her dorm room and flopped down on the bed. She lay there, sobbing into her pillow, until she had no tears left.

Finally she picked up her phone and called Riya.

"Hey, how's Langston?" Riya asked.

"Ri, I have a problem. A really big one." She paused, willing herself to say the words aloud. "I'm pregnant."

"Oh my God! How?"

"Logan and I..."

"I know how it happens! You didn't use protection?"

"We didn't have any! And I didn't know it was going to happen. He was my first, and we didn't do it until prom night."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. My dad would freak out if he knew. And if he ever finds Logan, he'll kill him. Maybe literally."

"You'll have to tell him eventually. Unless you don't have the baby."

Maribel thought about her maternal grandparents, extremely religious Catholics. She knew their views on that subject, and how disappointed they would be in her if she made that choice. "My grandparents would probably think I would go to hell for that."

"Well, I'm on your side, no matter what."

"Thanks, Ri. I just wish I could talk to Logan about this."

"Can't you call him?"

"No, his old number isn't in service. I guess he really wanted to make sure it would be over between us."

"He loves you, Maribel. I know he does."

"I know, Ri. It's just so hard."

"Does anyone know how to reach him?”

"Maybe his cousin Vaughn." She told Riya what she knew about Vaughn, and they talked for a while longer.

After ending the call, Maribel looked through the photos on her phone. She still kept Logan's pictures on it. He should be here with her now. He could have come with her, and looked for a job here. She could help him study for his GED, and then maybe he could go to community college. They could raise this baby together.

She wondered what her mother would say. She wished she could talk to her. There was no way she could talk to her dad. She couldn't turn to her grandparents either. But there was another member of her family she could confide in. She scrolled through her contacts and called her cousin Vanessa in Westchester, Oregon.

"Maribel! How are you?"

"I've been better. You're the only one in the family I can talk to about this. My dad would freak out. So would Grandma and Grandpa. I really miss my mom right now."

"I miss her too. So does my mom. But you always have us. What's wrong?"

"I'm pregnant. I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Have you told the father?"

"I don't know how to reach him. We broke up."

"What an asshole! You deserve better."

"No, it's not like that. It's complicated. He loves me, and I love him. We just can't be together. He's running from the law, and he doesn't want to put me in danger. I know how that sounds, but he's a really sweet guy, I swear."

"He sounds like trouble, but I've lived through plenty of danger myself, so I won't judge you," Vanessa assured her.

"Thanks. That's a relief."

"I'm here for you. And I'm sure my parents will be too, if you need them."

"Yeah, Aunt Sara and Uncle Fernando are way more permissive than my dad. I bet they'd take the news much better. My dad would want to kill Logan for touching me. I can't see them doing something like that."

"Definitely not. They let Connor sleep over."

"What?" Maribel couldn't imagine having that much freedom at home.

"Well, I'm an adult, we've been together a long time, and they probably think we're safer at home."

"Because of those wild animal attacks?"

"It's a lot more complicated than that, but you've got enough to deal with right now. Anyway, you can count on us."

"Don't say anything about this, OK?"

"I won't," Vanessa promised.

Over the next few weeks, Maribel avoided talking with her father for too long. How could she tell him that she was pregnant with Logan's child? She knew he loved her, but he would be so angry, especially at Logan. She couldn't face that right now. And since she was on the other side of the country, she could keep her secret for a while.

When she wasn't studying, she considered her options. Maybe next year she could get an apartment off-campus. She could look for a part-time job and hire a babysitter.

While sitting in class one day, Maribel began to feel a cramping sensation. She returned to her dorm room after class and lay down, but the cramps got worse. When she went to the bathroom, she saw that she was bleeding.

Maribel began to cry. Was she losing the baby? It didn't look good. She rushed over to Langston's student health center, where her fears were confirmed.

Even though she wasn't really ready to be a mother, she still felt sad. Her heart was breaking all over again. She'd lost the last part of Logan that she had left. When she got back to her room, she lay down on the bed. She touched Logan's sparkplug on the chain she wore around her neck. She really needed him now, but he wasn't there.

Her phone rang. She picked it up and looked at the number. It was unfamiliar to her. Who the hell was calling her now?

"Who is this?" she demanded

"Maribel, it's Logan. Vaughn said you needed to talk to me, that it was important."

"Logan? Oh my God. I've missed you so much." It was a miracle. There he was on the other end of the phone, right when she needed him most. Riya must have tracked down Vaughn.

"I've missed you too. What's going on?"

"I found out I was pregnant. We were going to have a baby. I wanted to let you know that you were going to be a father. But I just lost the baby. I wish you were here with me now," she sobbed.

"Oh God, Maribel. I'm so sorry." She could hear the heartbreak in his voice.

They talked for a long time, comforting each other, until Maribel could barely keep her eyes open.

"I should let you get some rest. You sound exhausted. Remember, I love you, always."

"I love you too, Logan."

Before she drifted off to sleep, she looked at her phone with a sudden realization. She pulled up her list of recent calls, and there it was at the top. Logan's new phone number. He wasn't completely lost to her after all. She might not know how to find him physically, but now she knew how to reach him.

[dragonydreams]

The Light and The Heat - Coldwave

Title: The Light and The Heat Fandom: The Flash, DC's Legends of Tomorrow Rating: Mature Pairings/Characters: Leonard Snart/Mick Rory Summary: There was something familiar about Mick that Len couldn't pinpoint, and that fact kept drawing him back here - to the coffee shop and the chair. Timeline: AU Word Count:  3,785 Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Berlanti Productions, DC Entertainment, and Warner Bros. Television. Betas: Thank you to my regular betas for looking this over for me. You know who you are. Author's Note: This is my DCTV Secret Santa gift for @sophiainspace who asked for 1) anything coldwave (especially young coldwave e.g. in their 20s) and/or 2) fluffy coffee shop AU. I'm sure you won't mind that I managed to include both. Enjoy! Author's Note 2: Title from "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel.

Len's pace quickened as he approached his destination, one hand on the strap of his messenger bag, keeping it tight against his body, as he rushed down the busy street just off campus, cursing how far away he'd had to park his car.

He wasn't late… technically. It wasn't like he had an appointment or class that he was trying to get to. No, this was a far more important destination he was aiming for.

He pulled the door open, cursing the jangle of the bell on the door for announcing his self-imposed tardiness, and paused in the entryway. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw that his chair was available. He strode quickly over to it and dropped his bag onto the worn leather before turning to the counter.

Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons this was his chair. Ever since he'd discovered that Elemental Coffee served the best hot cocoa and was on his way from campus to Lisa's high school.

Len approached the counter and found his order waiting for him. As usual.

"Want me to freshen that up?" the burly man behind the counter asked. "You're late."

Len picked the mug up off the counter, mini marshmallows melting slightly in the still hot, but no longer steaming, liquid.

"Nah, this is perfect," Len said, after taking a sip. "How'd you know?"

Mick grunted. "Could set my clock by your schedule."

Len dipped his face to his mug to avoid the blush he could feel creeping up his neck. "Thanks," he muttered as he paid and left a healthy tip in the tip jar before returning to his chair with his drink and a blueberry scone.

His chair had a perfect view of the counter, and, more importantly, the man behind the counter. The perfect study distraction for Len.

Mick was a mystery that Len had been trying to solve for months now. Without, you know, actually talking to him more than to give his order and other small talk.

There was something familiar about Mick that Len couldn't pinpoint, and that fact kept drawing him back here - to the shop and the chair.

After settling himself in the chair, drink and snack safe on the small table beside him, Len drew out his textbook and notepad and tried to focus on the chapters assigned in today's engineering class. Every few paragraphs, Len felt his eyes being drawn up to look at the man behind the counter.

Mick wasn't the kind of man he was usually attracted to, which only added to the mystery. His past male lovers had all been lean, like himself, where Mick was broad-shouldered with a shaved head. Definitely the kind of man you'd expect to find at a biker bar instead of behind the counter of a coffee shop. He was gruff, bordering on rude, to most of the customers - except with Len.

In what felt like no time at all, Len's phone beeped, reminding him that it was time to go pick Lisa up from whatever after school activity she'd had that day. They lived far enough from the high school that he didn't want her walking home through the not-so-safe neighborhood alone. So when she couldn't get a ride from a friend, which was most days, he picked her up in their only car.

He stowed his school materials back in the bag, shouldered it, and took his empty dishes to the bin set aside for them by the door.

"See ya Friday," Mick called out to him.

"See ya," Len called back.

~~*~~

Mick circled the counter and went to the seat Leo always occupied, wiping down the table and chair to remove stray crumbs.

It had been months now since Leo had wandered back into his life; so Mick felt like it would be rude at this point to mention their shared past if the other man didn't remember him. Not when Leo had meant so much to him in their youth. He couldn't bear it if he truly didn't remember their time together in juvie.

They'd lost touch after Leo had gotten out. While they'd been close while inside together, especially after they'd become cell mates, Leo had been determined not to follow in his father's footsteps.

From the big text books that he was always bringing in here, it looked like he'd made good on that promise.

He'd inspired Mick to want to lead a criminal-free life, too. It would have been so easy for him to fall into a life of crime. He would have been a great arsonist for hire.

Instead, he'd ended up in a foster home for a few months before he turned eighteen with good foster parents. They'd insisted that he go to therapy for his pyromania - rightfully afraid that he'd set their house on fire, like he'd done to his own parents' home. He'd been resistant to the therapy at first, but eventually started listening to what the therapist was saying and actually found it helpful. He had never been much of a talker – still wasn't – but his therapist found ways to work with him anyway.

His foster parents, who let him keep living with them even after he turned eighteen and were no longer getting paid to let him live there, helped him get his GED and into community college. He took all kinds of classes, trying to find something that interested him, and in a business class he was taking he'd met Mark and Clyde Mardon, brothers who were taking the class with hopes of opening a coffee shop.

This coffee shop.

Mick knew he didn't have a head for business, but he enjoyed working in the kitchen and making the fancy coffee drinks. One of the girls who worked here, Kendra, loved telling everyone that she was a barista, but Mick didn't need a fancy title like that to describe his job. He made coffee, end of story.

And making coffee allowed him to be in the right place when Leo walked through the door at the beginning of the semester.

Leo had gotten taller, finally - he'd been such a small kid in juvie - and his hair was shorn short now, but Mick would have recognized those eyes anywhere.

He kept waiting for Leo to recognize him, but so far, it hadn't happened. So he didn't say anything, not wanting to embarrass the guy.

After all, Leo had been his first crush; his first kiss. He was the first boy that he'd admitted being attracted to; and juvie was hardly the place for such admissions. He was just lucky that Leo had felt the same way.

Only, how much could he have meant to him if he couldn't recognize the boy he'd been in the man he was now?

~~*~~

A few more weeks went by. Len kept to his routine, Mick always had his drink and a snack ready for him when he arrived, and his seat was always open. Until one day his drink was ready but no snack.

When he was about to request something, Mick said, "Bring it over to you in a minute."

Len raised an eyebrow at that, but took his drink and settled into his chair.

A few minutes later, Mick brought over a snack - a red velvet cupcake.

Len whistled. "What'd I do to deserve a cupcake? I didn't think you sold those here."

"We don't," Mick said, staring at his boots. "Know today's an anniversary of sorts, wanted something special."

Len stared up at Mick wondering how he could possibly know.

Mick met his eyes and the nervousness and hope was like an icicle to Len's heart.

"Mickey?" Len whispered.

Mick set the cupcake he was still holding on the table and pulled over a chair from a nearby table and sank onto it, eyes never leaving Len's. "'Bout damn time."

"You've known who I was all this time?" Len asked.

Mick nodded. "Could never forget those eyes."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Was kinda hoping you would have figured it out on your own," Mick admitted.

"So why now?" Len asked.

"Because today's the anniversary of the first time we kissed," Mick said. "It was an important day for me, Leo."

"Me, too," Len admitted. "Although I go by Len now."

"OK, I'm just Mick now; which you already knew," he said, gesturing to his nametag.

Len grabbed Mick's hand as he lowered it, staring at the bigger man's face.

"You've changed so much in the past decade," Len said. "I knew you felt familiar, but I couldn't figure out why. It's one reason I come here so much. I've been trying to figure you out."

"And here I thought it was for my superior hot cocoa," Mick said with a smirk.

"That, too," Len agreed. "So you went straight when you got out?"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly say straight..." Mick said, his voice dropping as he turned his hand over in Len's and squeezed it.

Len swallowed; hard. "That's very good to know," he drawled.

The both startled when Len's phone beeped.

Mick frowned and glanced at his watch. "Isn't that goin' off a bit early?"

"Yeah," Len looked at him apologetically as he released Mick's hand, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Lisa's practice was a short one today."

"Lisa… your baby sister?" Mick clarified, praying that she wasn't a girlfriend.

Len huffed out a laugh. "Now a bratty teenager, but yes, my little sister. She's been living with me full time for about a year. Can I get these to go?" He asked, nodding towards his cupcake and cocoa.

"'Course," Mick agreed, taking the items to the counter and transferring them into to-go containers. When Len approached the counter to retrieve them, Mick caught his hand. "Can I see you later tonight? Or tomorrow? Away from here?"

Len mentally ran through his calendar. He worked the afternoons and evenings he didn't come to the coffee house, but he wanted to continue his conversation with Mickey - Mick. "Yeah, tonight. Give me your phone." When Mick handed it over, Len quickly entered his contact info, then texted himself. "I'll text you later with where we can meet up. When is your shift over?"

"I get off at eight," Mick answered.

"Perfect," Len said. "I'll see you soon."

Len gave Mick's hand a squeeze before he released it and then he rushed out the door, cocoa and cupcake in hand.

~~*~~

"So, who is he?" Lisa teased, flopping down on Len's bed as he got ready to go meet Mick.

"Nobody," Len answered quickly, knowing the answer wouldn't satisfy his nosy sister, but not wanting to try to explain Mick to her right now.

"Oooh, nobody," Lisa said knowingly. "That's why you've been staring at your closet for the past ten minutes when everything you own is either dark blue or black."

Len frowned, but couldn't disagree with her. Instead, he asked, "Is your homework done?"

"It's Friday night, what do you think?" Lisa countered. Len simply glared at her. "Almost," she grumbled.

"Finish it up while I'm out, then you won't have to worry about it over the weekend," he said.

Lisa rolled her eyes, having heard this every Friday since she'd come to live with her brother. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

Len grabbed his leather jacket off the hook by the front door and patted his pockets to make sure he had his wallet and phone.

"You're really not gonna tell me about this guy?" Lisa wheedled.

"I will, just, not right now. I don't want to be late," Len said, grabbing his keys. "I'll try not to be home too late."

"Pfft," Lisa waved him off. "For your sake, I hope you don't come home at all tonight. It's been ages since you've gotten laid."

Len stiffened. "What makes you say that?" he demanded.

"Because I know you, brother dear, and you have been ornery as fuck for the past several months," Lisa said.

Not wanting to discuss his sex life with his little sister - especially since she was right - Len said, "I'll be home later tonight."

~~*~~

Mick picked at the label on his beer bottle as he waited for Leo. No, Len, he had to remind himself.

He'd been surprised when Len had suggested that they meet at Saints and Sinners, but he always did like a dive bar.

"Hey, sorry I'm late," Len said, sliding into the booth across from him. "Lisa decided to start pestering me about where I was going as I was heading out."

Mick glanced at his watch. "You're not late, I just got here early."

Len signaled for a waitress and ordered his own beer before returning his attention to Mick.

"You know, now that I know who you are, I can see the kid I knew in you," Len said. "I'm sorry that it took me so long to recognize you."

"S'okay," Mick grunted, feeling a pleasurable warmth in his chest. "So you've got custody of your sister?"

"Not exactly," he paused as the waitress dropped off his drink. "I became an emancipated minor when I was sixteen, needing to get out from under my dad's roof. But I couldn't go too far away because I didn't want to leave Lisa all alone with him. I'd been volunteering at the library since I got out of juvie and Gideon, one of the librarians, hooked me up with her friend, Rip, who owned a bookstore, and got me a job there so that I could afford a shitty apartment when I was emancipated. I still work there four days a week," Len explained.

"The days you don't come to the shop," Mick guessed.

"Yeah," Len agreed. "I got my GED early since I spent all my time around books and started studying engineering at the local college. I'm almost done with my Masters."

"You always did need to know how everything worked," Mick remembered.

"Anyway, Lewis and I worked out a sort of custody arrangement with Lisa after I tried and failed to get legal custody of her. The more time she spent at my place, the less he had to worry about feeding her. But it also meant that he no longer had anyone to take his anger out on with both of us no longer living under his roof, so he wouldn't let her go completely."

"He hit her?" Mick growled.

"Both of us, yeah," Len reluctantly admitted. "And I've got the scars to prove it."

"Want me to teach him a lesson?" Mick asked, flexing his muscles.

"Thanks, but no," Len said. "He's out of our lives now. Rip gave Lisa a job, too, and the second she was old enough, we got her emancipated and she moved in with me full time. She's seventeen now."

As he finished talking, Len let his fingers brush against Mick's. He looked at him through his eyelashes and asked, "And what have you been up to since juvie?"

Mick shifted in his seat as all his blood rushed south. He took a swig of beer, having forgotten the power that look had on him.

"I, uh, ended up with a really good foster family. They were patient and found me a good therapist. Helped me get my GED and into community college. That's where I met the Mardon brothers, the guys who own Elemental. Best thing that came out of that stupid business class I took. When they got the funding to open the shop they brought me in to work behind the counter and in the kitchen."

"Do you mean that you make all those delicious treats you pick out for me?" Len asked, drool threatening to give away how much he enjoyed the sweets he ate at the shop.

Mick's chest puffed out a bit at the hungry look in Len's eyes. "I do," he admitted. "Turns out that I'm really good in a kitchen."

"Next time you're making me dinner," Len declared.

"I'm glad you want there to be a next time," Mick admitted.

Mindful that they weren't in a place where they couldn't do much more than flirt, Len carefully brushed his fingers against Mick's again.

"I'd like to show you just how much I'd like there to be a next time," Len purred.

"Wanna get out of here?" Mick suggested, breathing heavily.

"Thought you'd never ask," Len drawled. They both threw money on the table and tried not to rush out of the building.

Mick dragged Len into the alley next to the bar and pressed him against the brick wall as his mouth slammed down on his. Len's hands fisted in Mick's open coat, dragging him closer as the kiss grew sloppy and more desperate.

"How far's your place from here?" Len asked between kisses.

"I walked here," Mick admitted.

"Good, then we can take my car," Len said, slipping out from against the wall and dragging Mick towards his car.

"Give me the keys. I'll drive since I know where we're goin'," Mick suggested, holding his hand out.

Len rarely let anyone else drive his car, but he didn't hesitate to drop his keys into Mick's outstretched hand.

Five minutes later they were stumbling into Mick's apartment, barely able to keep their hands off of each other.

They made it as far as the couch.

Len roughly pushed Mick to sit in the center of it and straddled him, their bodies pressed as close together as possible while still wearing clothes, as their mouths found each other's again.

Mick ran his hands over Len's close-cropped hair. "Miss being able to bury my fingers in your hair," he admitted as he left open mouthed kisses down Len's neck, biting lightly when he reached that sensitive point where shoulder and neck met.

Reaching up, Len dragged Mick's hands down to his ass. "Got something else for you to hold onto."

Mick bucked up against Len, pressing their bodies even closer together. "Fuck, I've missed you, Leo," he growled, forgetting the new name in his eagerness.

"Missed you, too, Mickey," Len said before recapturing his mouth.

Mick's hands slid around to grasp Len's belt, but Len stopped him. "No, we're gonna come just like this," he said, rolling his hips hard against Mick. "I'm so close already, aren't you?"

"Wanna touch you," Mick huffed. "Need skin."

Hesitating only briefly, Len pulled off his shirt. Mick's eyes widened at the sheer number of scars littering Len's chest and arms, but refused to let that ruin the moment they were in. He dipped his head to take one of Len's nipples between his teeth, biting down gently.

"Yes," Len hissed, holding Mick's head against him as he continued to roll his hips.

Mick ran his hands down Len's equally damaged back and slipped them into his pants beneath his underwear, grabbing his bare ass and yanking him hard against him as he pressed up.

"Shit, I'm gonna come," Mick grunted.

"Yeah, me, too," Len panted.

Their mouths met with a clashing of teeth as they both came in their pants.

"Fuck, I haven't done that since I was a teenager," Len said, sliding off Mick's lap to sit pressed against his side.

"Don't think I've ever done that before," Mick admitted, running his fingers over Len's back.

Len shivered and reached for his shirt, pulling it back on as he got to his feet. "I hate to come and go, but I should probably get back to Lisa."

"Stay," Mick said, catching his hand. "I'm not ready to let you go yet."

Len sank back onto the couch and pressed a kiss to Mick's lips. "How can I say no to a request like that?"

"You can't," Mick answered, wrapping an arm against Len's shoulders. "We'll watch a movie and then we can talk about you leaving."

Len laughed. "So we need to talk about me leaving? I do have a teenage sister at home."

"Operative word being: teenage. She'll be fine on her own," Mick said.

"I have one condition," Leonard said, shifting in his seat.

Mick glanced at him out of the side of his eye. "What's that?"

"Let me borrow a pair of shorts?" he requested. Nodding towards his lap, he added, "This is gonna get really uncomfortable, real fast."

Mick frowned and realized Len was right. "Yeah, good idea. C'mon." They both stood and Mick led Len to his bedroom. Mick rummaged through a drawer and pulled out two pairs of boxers. Handing one to Len, he said, "Might be a bit big on you."

"Still better than what I'm currently wearing, thanks," Len said, tearing his eyes away from the small pile of books on the nightstand. "Bathroom?"

Mick pointed to the door across the hall and Len entered the small room. He poked through cabinets until he found a washcloth and slipped out of his boots, jeans, and underwear. He cleaned himself up before pulling on Mick's boxers, a thrill running up his spine as he did so. He quickly finished dressing and rinsed out the washcloth before heading back to the living room, carrying his boots with him.

Mick was already seated on the couch, DVD ready to play.

"So what are we watching?" Len asked, settling comfortably against Mick's side.

"Thought this was appropriate, given the time of year," Mick said, pushing play on the remote.

"Die Hard?" Len asked as the movie started.

"Best fuckin' Christmas movie ever," Mick said.

"Yippee-ki-yay," Len said as they settled in to watch.

He was going to get so much shit from Lisa the next day, but Len couldn't bring himself to care. Right now, he couldn't imagine being anywhere else than right here; with Mick.

The End