#this is pretty useless to be fair but im here to practice my writing so there you go

[moonystoes]

Gift for you

Elisa De Almeida x reader

A/n: this is my first ever writing, so feedback and criticism is needed!! Thank you for everyone who kept pushing me to do this (@yunjinloser and @oceangalore), I wrote this in 50 minutes in class so if there are any grammatical/spelling mistakes pleaseee tell me because it will haunt me forever...also this is basically nothing so sorry if you're disappointed lmfao I'm just practicing my writing, it is one of my 2024 goals 🫶💞

Wc: 506

“Babe? Are you here?” You called from the doorway of her apartment, hands heavy from the gifts you bought for her. The big bouquet of cream-white flowers was covering your face as you slowly walked around her house to the living room where she lays all the time after training.

You knew she was stressed out about the next champions league match and disappointed at her mistake in the previous match where she accidentally made a poor pass that ended in a 1-1 tie. So you wanted to give her something to make her feel better, since talking to her obviously didn't work.

When you walked into the living room, you saw she was scrolling on her phone while laying on her L-couch. When she looked up, her jaw dropped. “what! Is this for me?” She turns off the phone and throws it away from her to the other couch. She hurried to your side, grabbing what's in your hands.

“Yeah, you've been really tough on yourself and I know you deserve a little gift,” your now free hand softly caresses her back, her gaping face was adorable, making you wish you had filmed this. She rushes through the gifts; the football boots (you made sure they were Nike), the macaroons, and lastly, she takes the big bouquet and stares at it with watery eyes. “They're not real, I thought fake ones would last forever but real ones die after a week…” You quickly stammered, worried if she will get offended.

But her soft glance at you calmed you down. “It's perfect, I can put it right there near the TV without worrying about it turning brown,” She grabs the bouquet and rests it under the TV, the white color fits in with the rest of her furniture. “lay down on the couch please.” Her soft voice, her hands trying to perfect the position of the flowers. You immediately laid on the couch, slightly confused on why she would say that right now.

After a few seconds of her frustratingly moving the flowers, she stood up and smiled brightly at you, she crawled over you and slowly pressed her body on yours. She leaned over and softly pecked your lips, then resting her head on your chest.

You wrapped your arms over her shoulders and hair, brushing her hair away from her forehead and softly kissed her scalp. She raised her face and quickly asked, “can you sleep here? I will drive you to your apartment in the morning for your work.” She glanced at you with hopeful eyes, trying to make a ‘baby face’ to convince you.

You rolled your eyes, feeling defeated. “Okay, I'll stay but don't get frustrated when I wake you up at 6.” She quickly sits up and kisses you. She rests her head on your chest again, her arms tightening around your waist. You smiled at her clinginess when your eyes trail over her pink blushed cheeks, thanking God or whoever it may be for sending you the prettiest gift ever.

[reeesea]

Something Sweet: Part Six

~something sweet?~

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine 

pairing: minsung, jisung/minho

warning: mild language

words: 4k ish

summary:  Is this a date? Minho didn't know, and he had a feeling Jisung didn't really know either.

a/n: Its been a while but I hope you enjoy this 4k of just minsung~

~~~~~

Minho walked out the staff door over to the back entrance of the bar finding the quiet and comfortably lit room to be filled with casual chatter from the regulars, and the quiet lyricless mood music filling the space just enough to make silence comfortable. He spots his most recent customer sitting at the bar sipping through a straw at a drink that looks something like a strawberry daiquiri, scrolling through his phone mindlessly. The blue light from Jisung's phone creating a soft contrast to the warm light of their surroundings, making his eyes look brighter than anything else in the space. 

Jisung spots Minho before he gets to him, and his signature happy heart lights up his face once again. 

Minho sits on a bar stool, “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” 

“Oh no don’t worry I just ordered. Im happy to buy you a drink too if you want." Jisung fumbled with his sleeves as he spoke. 

"I would’ve already but I wasn’t sure what you liked, or what you’d be in the mood for.”

Minho laughed softly at the boy's offer, and his blatant offering of his pocket book.

“Don't worry about it, Jisung I can buy my own drink. Besides, I’m not too sure what I want yet either.” While Minho looked at the menu a surprisingly unawkward silence fell over them. Most of their conversations were over text and getting to see one another in person was largely rare. Jisung was surprised that even with the initial anticipation and nervousness of getting to see Minho again, once he was sitting in his company nothing ever felt awkward or wrong. 

Something about the older man made him feel free to wear his heart on his sleeve. Something Jisung already regularly does, but with Minho he feels safe to do so. Minho would always respond to Jisung’s musings with support or equal enthusiasm, and always returned his jokes and flirting with the smile that made Jisungs heart tug in his chest. 

Getting to see his face was almost an added bonus to getting to be with Minho again. No one would deny that his features were beautiful. His face was set with delicate features that were contrasted by the strong and confident way he held himself. His eyes were large and curious in a way that would be described as innocent looking, if Jisung hadn’t already witnessed the mischievous glint they could also hold. He took his time to take in Minho’s details, in order to commit them to memory. Why? He didn’t really know all he knew was that it felt important, and that if he didn't he would regret it later. 

“You know, if you take a picture it'll last longer.” Minho said, having just ordered some random mixed drink Jisung didn’t recognize, before returning the younger’s not so subtle stares. 

“Maybe but I feel like most people are against having their picture taken without their consent”

“Well you have mine now.” The smirk already returned to his face, causing Jisung’s ears to glow red.  Despite his embarrassment Jisung fumbled to retrieve his phone, loading up the camera.  

“Alright Hyung ready for your close up?” Minho only responded with a seemingly fond chuckle while settling into a nonchalant pose, allowing Jisung to take a couple of flattering shots.

“Dang hyung, why aren’t you a model. Look at this one.” Jisung waved his phone in front of the other’s face scrolling to a specifically nice photo of Minho’s side profile. 

Minho scoffed. “Oh I’m so much more than just a pretty face. Don't you know that already Jisungie~” Jisung looks like we were about to object before Minho softly waved him off with a chuckle.

"I’m just joking. And I don't know, I suppose my career just never swung that way.” 

“I find it hard to believe you’ve never been scouted before.” 

“I suppose you are right, I have been. I just chose to finish school instead." Minho stared at his newly acquired drink with THAT expression Jisung still couldn't quite read.

Jisung remembered Minho talking about having graduated university recently, but other than that and his job at the restaurant, much of Minho's career is somewhat of a mystery to him.   

Minho sipped his drink at the brief pause before asking, "How are you doing Jisung? I know its been a while since we last actually talked” 

The sigh Jisung let out told much of the busy week he's had. 

Debut clean up, photo shoots, meetings, and practice, and late night producing before sleep. 

The audible groan and head on the table was answer enough that the week he was having had been rough.

“I suppose I’m fine. Just overwhelmed. But I also feel bad for being so overwhelmed, I should be excited. I mean I’m so lucky…”  Minho nodded along although confused as to what exactly the other was referencing. Jisung mumbled more before pausing. Jisung felt somewhat conflicted on if he should be spilling his groups practically secret debut preparations, but the kind look on Minho's face felt like reason enough to defy his agreement with his company. 

"Okay so, we're preparing for debut right? And I should be SOO thankful that I even get to and be excited about it. But I don't know what it is about this week. I just feel so ridiculously over my head and exhausted.” Jisung sighed again loudly, "Oh shit I'm not supposed to tell anyone that…." 

Minho laughs at the younger's surprised puppy eyes before promising not to tell anyone. 

“Here, pinky promise.” Extending his hand to offer his finger felt a little juvenile for them, but either way it got Jisung to smile and feel comfortable so that's all that mattered. He would do anything to ease Jisung’s mind even for a moment. “Well congratulations Jisung. If anyone deserves the recognition it's you three.”

Jisung smiles softly at his drink, “Thanks hyung, that means a lot… Just these past few weeks I’ve felt pretty useless. We're still busy making songs like everyday, but I’m just not coming up with lyrics as quickly as I usually do. And I’m always confused during our meetings with the company. I guess I just am having some rough writer’s block or something."

"I suppose I can understand, except honestly I feel like I've had a creative block for the past few months." Minho’s laugh still sounded as soft as ever, but the unreadable expression on his face made it hard to believe. That expression was slowly becoming Jisung’s least favorite thing.

"What you stuck on?" 

"Just in a rut. Lately I have been feeling like I’m just moving to move, working to get by. Even with dancing, I feel like I’m just doing it for the crew. I haven't been creative in MONTHS." Minho’s smile didn't reach his eyes that time, and it may or may not have broken Jisung’s heart a little. 

Determined to bring back the crescent eyed expression, Jisung decided that he would find a way to inspire Minho again. The older had been close to his only muse during his writer’s block and it seemed only fair to try and return the favor.

"Do you ever choreograph then?”

"In college I did, and when the other members ask for help, but not really"

"WELL, I don't know anything about dancing BUT I know that when I freestyle or when I write something really good, it reminds me of why I love creating so much. Maybe you just need a reminder."

"Yeah…. Maybe I do" The expression Minho wore now was something closer to contemplative than the somber expression he had been wearing, so Jisung took that as a small victory. 

A new determined expression stretched across Minho’s face, "Okay no more sad talk Han Jisung. Let's make our weeks better right here, right now"

Jisung liked this new side of Minho much more, "How do we do that hyung?" Puppy eyes on full display.

Minho downed the rest of his drink, prompting Jisung to follow. Which he did although much more tentatively, "Well honestly, I don’t know but that karaoke machine’s looking pretty tempting right about now."

“I didn't know you sang hyung?” 

“I definitely don't willingly, but after this week, give me one more drink and I’m game.”

 ---

A few more drinks and few poorly sung karaoke songs later the two were back to sitting at the bar. More times than either of them could count they had found themselves smiling at each other without the other noticing. It was obvious that both of them hadn't been this happy in a while. Minho was on maybe his fourth drink and Jisung on his third. 

“I can’t believe that Felix saw Binnie-hyung the other night? And he talked to him?? Like willingly?” Jisung seemingly was in disbelief that his elder groupmate would actually talk to a stranger willingly. 

“Yeah, Lix about had a heart attack when he saw it was Changbin though. Felix is not exactly subtle with his emotions, and hes like your guy’s biggest fan.”

“He seemed so chill when we met him at busking though” 

“Yeah I’m pretty sure he was holding his breath the entire time.” Jisung’s laugh filled the bar with such a bright sound that Minho couldn’t help but laugh along too. That seems to be happening a lot. Jisung’s laugh must just do that, Minho supposes.

“You’re roommates seem really cool though. I’d love to meet them and get to spend time with you again.” The lazy, probably tipsy grin that was plastered on Jisung’s face, as well as his request to spend more time with him turned Minho’s cheeks red. But if anyone would have asked, he would have blamed it on the alcohol. 

“They’d love that we don't get out much as a trio. And Hyun and Lix love new prey- I mean people.” The mischievous grin reappeared on his face at the chance to tease his roommates some more.

“Oh come on I’m sure they’re not that bad hyung. Me, Chan and Bin-hyung are like the opposite. We never go out and rarely meet new people our age. I think Sana-noona is the first new person we’ve collectively interacted with since like 2018.”

“Well now you can say you’ve interacted with three more people your age, with me and my roommates. Although I have a feelin the whole of us together would be a chaotic affair”

“That sounds so fun!” Jisung couldn’t help but perk up at the idea of hanging out with people his age other than Chan and Changbin. He still want to experience the ‘normal’ and ‘cliche’ hangouts of those in their twenties. Much of which he feels he has already lost due to 3RACHA’s continual pursuit of a career. Having not even finished high school in pursuit of his dreams, Jisung couldn’t help but yearn just a bit for the lives of his peers, and to experience all the things he had missed. Jisung, even more unfiltered than usual due to a few drinks in his system, sighed loudly. 

“You sure? That sigh sounded a little heavy for you. You tired of me already?” Minho couldn’t keep the concern and anxiety from peaking out even just a bit. Alcohol had always made him a bit more emotionally sensitive and transparent. 

“Oh! NO No no, I would totally love to spend more time with you. Honestly more than anything else.” Jisungs tried to hide his embarrassment of getting sentimental out of nowhere.

“I uh- I just don’t get out much. I wasn’t kidding when I said we never go out. If we didn't have our performances, all three of us would probably never leave our apartment, and it’s just always been like that since we formed our group.” It took all his will not to let another sigh slip from his mouth. 

Minho’s smile softened along with his eyes. Jisung had been nothing but kind and charming to him, seeing another side of the boy, the more troubled and emotional side, only made the boy more endearing to him. Minho couldn’t help but want to keep him close. In a way it was similar to how he felt for Felix and Hyunjin, but there was something more than just the hyung mentality kicking in. 

“Well you have me now, right? I mean plus Felix and Hyunjin I guess. They're kinda freebies, and tag along whether you want them or not.” 

“Yeah, I guess I do have you now.” The heart, although smaller, reappeared on Jisungs face, and it was a victory enough. Minho hoped that Jisung would accept whatever bizarre friendship they had. Somehow their friendship, although came out of nowhere, really felt like it was what both of them were needing. 

“Also I don't know what professional rapper Han Jisung will be up too once he debuts, but Felix’s birthday is coming up and he loves making a whole night of it. Dressing up, going out, dancing, getting wasted off fruity drinks, he loves it. Anyway I’m sure he’d love it if you wanted to come, you could probably even bring your plus twos.”

“REally?!” Jisung’s eyes brightened and his smile grew to stretch the full length across his face. 

“Of course, really! I just invited you, dummy.” Minho was sure Felix really wouldn’t mind. If anything he could frame it as a birthday present that he got 3RACHA to come to his birthday party. Win-win. Minho couldn’t help but notice the brightness of the smile on Jisung’s face when he mentioned it. Just shows how much the idea of spreading time with them really meant to Jisung. Adorable. That may have been the real win. 

The two sat in silence for sometime. Nursing their unfinished drinks and fighting the uncontrollable grins from fully forming on their faces. Comfortable silence is a rare occurrence for the pair, but somehow they found it with each other on their first date? Outing? Minho didn't know what this was, and something told him Jisung had no idea either.

“Soooo is this that date I was promised or are we gonna ambiguously hang out for a bit longer?” Jisung looked a bit taken aback but commenced rambling to make up for it.

“I kinda had hoped that our first date would be more exciting than me visiting you after work on a whim. I honestly just came in hoping to see you. To be honest I didn't think I would get this far, also I don't even know when your free next, or when I’m free next, and our schedules lining up seems kinda unlikely, But more than anything I would love to take you out a real unambiguous date, ya know so you dont think im some unromantic fool whos all talk and no walk- ” 

“Jisung.” As endearing as Jisung’s unbridled rambling was, it did make the boy a little hard to handle. Not that Minho minded at all.

“Yes?...” Jisung’s puppy dog eye forever making a reappearance.

“Would you like to go get dinner with me the next time you are free?” 

“Yes I would like that very much.” He even nodded enthusiastically.

“Good then our first date is set, you just tell me when and where.” Minho shot a wink the younger’s way. Jisung’s joyful smile didn't seem to have left his face anytime in the past hour. 

---

Exiting the bar the pair walked side by side, hands brushing past each other in almost every step, remaining just tipsy enough for physical boundaries to blurr, but for the most part sobering up for their journeys home.

“I’m going to call a car to get home, do you need a ride?” Jisung offered hoping to spend even a few more minutes with the other boy. Seeing as their next meeting date was still only a concept. 

Minho hesitated a second, “No, it's alright I can walk, it's not that much further to my bus stop.” He flashed the younger a smile, that was probably meant to be reassuring, but the grin didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Please, I’d feel better knowing you got home safe. And its really no problem.”

“Are you saying that I can’t make it home on my own Han Jisung? Don’t forget whos the hyung here. I usually walk home even later on my closing shifts!”

“Nonono, I am just concerned and feel like it would be the “gentleman” thing to do.” Jisung put heavy finger quotes over ‘gentleman’.

“Oh and since when have you every cared about being a gentleman? Hm?” Minho’s smirk made Jisung laugh, and it seemed the older man wouldn’t easily accept his ride offer. 

“Pah. I am always a gentleman. Thank you very much. And since you won’t accept my offer please at least let me know when you get home safely.” Jisung pulled his puppy eyes out one more time, and even grabbed Minho’s hand for emphasis. 

Minho couldn't deny that the others' soft hold on his own hand and his soft expression, had made his heart skip a couple beats. 

“I’ll text you when I get home, Jisung. Promise.” Squeezing his hand softly for reassurance, he smiled, before having to actively pry his hand away from the warmth and comfort of Jisung’s hand. “Goodnight Jisung.” 

“G-Goodnight Minho-hyung.” Jisung stood and watched as the older man rounded the corner, to his supposed bus stop, trying his hardest not to miss the warmth that his presence had emitted next to him for the past couple hours. 

Damn it I really am gone huh. Jisung’s smile only grew though, at the surprising realization that he had somehow gained a real relationship from his serendipitous run in with the waiter. Thanking past-Jisung for whatever he had done to deserve getting to spend the last few hours with a man that was like something out of his dreams. 

---

Minho walked home with a smile on his face, but couldn't fight the slight guilt of having to turn down another one of Jisung’s generous offers. Minho wished the part of him that wanted to hide who he was would die off, but sadly the fear of Jisung seeing how small, and honestly shitty, the place he lived was, kept him from letting the sweet boy give him a ride. The more rational part of his brain knew that Jisung wouldn’t care about how he lived or how much money he had, but the fear still won. At least for now. 

Minho climbed up the stairs to their apartment, and unlocked the door, with a small shake. The lock was sticky most days. With the door secured behind him he found a Hyunjin stretched out on their pull out couch, as some western cartoon played on the TV. Minho switched off the screen and threw a blanket over his roommate so he wouldn’t wake up freezing in the middle of the night. Their heating and cooling was anything but consistent. 

Checking the clock on the stove told him that it was already close to the middle of the night anyway. He could hear his second roommate rustle around in his own bed behind their living room screen, as Minho made his way to his own bed. Often being the last come home, he made sure to be quiet as he got ready for bed. Even with the three boys' collective late night shifts, they tended to still have early mornings together, for dance and other performances.  Sleep was their time and it was usually limited time. 

Before officially climbing in bed Minho remembered to text, as he promised, to let Jisung know he was safe. 

Rich boy Han Jisung

12:34am 

Home safe, as expected :]

HYUNG! 

You’re safe!

I’m so glad :]

I had a great time tonight

As soon as I know I will let you know when I am free 

Ya know

For dinner 

:)

I had fun tonight too Jisung~

Can’t wait 

Gn :)

Sleep tight hyung! ^u^

 ---

Jisung attempted to enter his apartment quiet and inconspicuously, but sadly forgot to take into account the fact that his roommates seldom sleep like normal human beings. He entered their loft to Chan currently raiding the kitchen, and Changbin glued to his laptop in their connected living room. As soon as he walked into the well lit hallway, his two flatmates threw him a few raised eyebrows and subtle smirks. 

Jisung hadn’t exactly announced his leaving. The three of them were originally working on a track when the youngest had gotten frustrated and left with not much more than a mumble that usually signified that he was “taking a walk”. Clearly that walk had taken him close to 4 more hours than usual, hence the raised eyebrows. In attempts to fight the awkward and accusing silence that filled the room, Jisung hoped to lighten the mood. Or atleast get his hyungs to avoid teasing him for now. 

“...I brought take out.” Did Jisung purposely stop at a take out restaurant just to potentially bribe his hyungs not to tease him? Maybe. 

It worked, at least partially as Chan made his way from his spot in front of the opened fridge to Jisung to eagerly collect the bribe. The oldest rapper always had a soft spot. It was his stomach. 

Changbin on the other hand, still kept his questioning look on his face that seemed to say Where have you been for the last 4 hours Han Jisung? Clearly Jisung was avoiding that look, and decided the chicken he had brought was suddenly the most interesting food ever. He was happy, happy and his hyungs knew him well enough that four hours walking around and fried chicken weren’t the reason he was practically giddy. 

“So Sungie, find anything else exciting on your little walk? Other than fried chicken?” Still actively avoiding Changbin’s gaze. Jisung simply shrugged, but the wide grin on his face or the pink tint to his ears, were enough to confirm whatever Changbin’s assumptions had been. 

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain waiter at Menu 98, perhaps?”

Before Jisung could answer his phone lit up with a text from the aforementioned waiter. Jisung immediately picked up his phone and responded with a wide smile, that practically spillied all the ‘secrets’ of his night to his hyungs. 

“Sorry hyung what was that?”

Changbin shook his head fondly at the innocent glow on the youngest’s face. 

“Nothing, Sung just glad to see you happy.”

Jisung squinted his eyes happily at that and continued to type away. Chan couldn’t help but feel his heart strings tug at the happiness that Jisung emitted in the moment. He always found himself worried about their youngest member. Jisung’s smile had begun to become progressively rare throughout the years that they had been a group, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty for pulling their youngest member into their life as a music group so young. There was also a part of him that was afraid of losing that smile once they debuted. It was their biggest goal by far, but Chan had seen what being in the public eye could do to souls as pure as Jisung. 

If Jisung really was getting involved with and even potentially dating another boy, not everyone was as kind and understanding about one’s sexual orientation as he wished they were. A warning about it was on the tip of Chan’s tongue but he couldn’t speak up as soon as he saw the way Jisung’s entire face lit up at a new text notification.  

“Thanks for the late night snack, Sungie.”

“Oh, Of course Channie-hyung! It's the most I could do for disappearing for such a long time.” 

Jisung’s heart smile reached his eyes, and Chan couldn’t help but return it. He mentally promised to do anything to protect that trademarked heart as they debuted.

----

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

[xianglingslesbian]

oh I'll give u a character alright: Izuki, Kiyoshi, Riko and Aomine <333 technically that's four, but what goes around comes around (I'll keep this circle of love goin forever buddy)

VICCCC ily my man <33 thank u!!! aight putting this under a cut bc it got long

Izuki

Why I like them: izuki’s just overall so amazing! he inspires me to give my best in the stuff i do, and although it sounds a bit silly i try to be a person that he’d be proud of. his puns are hilarious and well-thought-out (as a person who loves words and word jokes, i’m naturally drawn to him lol). they’re also a way to take the heat off the team, he’s so hardworking and never views obstacles as obstacles, rather as hills he must climb to find newer skies. he’s also rather clever and employs his brains to great effect when his body fails him! izuki embodies the meaning of ‘eagle’ in the truest sense - waiting to strike when the time is right and not failing when it is.

Why I don’t: *sweats* can’t really think of a reason i don’t like izuki, at all??? i guess he can overwork himself a lot and tends to keep his true emotions hidden which could lead to misunderstandings between friends (although this is totally headcanon territory lol)... i also didn’t like the ableist comment he passed on hayama (“i’m just glad you weren’t smarter than me”). but i think he can (and will!) grow from that kind of stuff, he is that kind of person so yeah no particular reason for me to dislike him at all

Favorite episode (scene if movie): how dare you make me pick s3 e8 izuki vs kasamatsu, hands down. i know its like cliche or whatever but that moment just told me so much about izuki as a character? he’s willing to do what it takes to win, he’s adaptable and dependable and he doesn’t let shit get him down ever. it’s gorgeous

Favorite season/movie: s3, he got some fantastic moments in there!! although i will say i loved the spotlighting he got in s1 in the seihō match

Favorite line: “Fear isn't a bad thing. There are some things that can only be done by cowards.” this is first of all such a nice thing to say. ‘fear is not bad’ is just... so fucking wise? keep in mind that this boy is 17, i’ve met 30 year olds who are less mature. secondly it feels like izu’s speaking from experience?? like he has a lot to be scared of, i’m sure. particularly of falling behind and being a burden to his teammates. but it’s that ‘cowardice’ that drives him to practice so so hard. that visceral terror of weighing on seirin is what pushes izuki beyond his limits - which is why here he can empathise with furi’s fear, and knows how best to employ it.

Favorite outfit: look i hate last game w/ a passion but that lil tie/shirt/hoodie thing he had going? that was literally so cute. izuki in general has a p great fashion sense but his last game outfit takes the cake <3

OTP: hyuuizu oh my god i could talk for years about them but since this post is gonna be very long i’ll refrain. just. they are perfect they are fucking perfect

Brotp: kiyoizu!! kiyoshi is izuki’s biggest enabler and i love that for him <3

Head Canon: izuki can be very very passive aggressive when he’s angry at someone/sad and gets cold and withdrawn. it’s not fun to experience but tbh if you upset him you probably deserve it

Unpopular opinion: izuki should’ve been naturally better in canon. it’s not fair to shaft him and give the ‘trier’ thing off to himuro. that being said i am p happy with who he is as a person

A wish: i want to know how izuki felt after middle school! izuki’s and riko’s backstory focuses so much on hyuuga its dumb >:( he also would’ve been demoralised but he didn’t quit bball and i would like to know his thought process!

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: i. uh. i guess izu quitting basketball. because i genuinely cannot see that happening. it brings him so much joy, he should never stop cold turkey. i can imagine old man izuki hobbling about a court giving little kids pointers and making them laugh T-T

5 words to best describe them: “big brain caffeine-powered clown baby” 

My nickname for them: babyzuki/izu/shunshun

Kiyoshi

Why I like them: lots of reasons! kiyoshi is an admirable person. he’s strong, yet friendly and gentle, and he loves his team above all else, which i just find beautiful. i find his manipulative side also pretty cool, bc it shows off how multifaceted he is.

Why I don’t: this is more of a fandom reason but i really dislike how kiyoshi is always said to have had the greatest impact in hyuuga’s story. he badgered and manipulated hyuuga, and while some may argue hyuuga needed that push, it only worked bc hyuuga had had time to think about shit. he’d also been given space by riko and izuki (two integral parts of his life whom the fandom looooves to sideline for uwu kiyo//hyuu). 

Favorite episode (scene if movie): yousen match (can’t pick the episodes)! i loved the backstory we got for kiyo vs mura and i loved how kiyoshi was willing to smile and play but also refused to lose. he truly stole the show despite kagami being the one to finally take down murasakibara, it was gorgeous <3

Favorite season/movie: s2 for sure. kiyoshi wasn’t allowed to shine much after yousen imo - all the focus was on hyuuga kagami and kuroko, and to a lesser extent izuki. not complaining, but yeah

Favorite line: “Let’s go have some fun.” i know it’s kinda cliche but i do love how kiyoshi’s always thinking about playing a good game and enjoying basketball. he wants to play because he loves it and as someone who loves a sport as much as kiyoshi loves b-ball, that love is so poignant and tender

Favorite outfit: practice clothes! kiyoshi looks great in pink <3

OTP: kiyohana. hateshipping amirite ;)

Brotp: kiyohyuu! i love them as friends so so much <3

Head Canon: kiyoshi is half-iranian on his mother’s side and is muslim. i won’t say too much because i am not muslim myself, i need to do more research into this but i’ve had this headcanon for quite a while now!

Unpopular opinion: he should be bullied more for the fact that his canon power is having yaoi hands

A wish: kiyo finds something he loves as much as b-ball. he can’t canonically play at this level again, so if he found another sport/competition/anything, it’d be amazing

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: he should never become demoralised. kiyoshi at heart is a dreamer, so let him dream, let him look towards tomorrow with a smile always

5 words to best describe them: “useless dreamy dumbass cheerleader clown”

My nickname for them: kiyoyo, bc my feelings about him have yo-yoed a lot lmao

Riko

Why I like them: im a lesbian, next. /j i love her because she’s so tenacious and driven. yet she’s also kind and gentle, and never loses her humanity. she cares, and she cares hard. she’s so fucking smart too like... coaching a hs basketball team at 17 against players of NBA calibre and making them win? i could never. seirin without riko is nothing.

Why I don’t: i dont like the constant slapstick of her beating up her boys. also, i dislike how the narrative forces her to act ‘feminine’ and then has the boys think of it as nothing. like first of all if someone like her offered me a kiss i would so take 100, and secondly... why is a girl’s worth so tied to her femininity? it’s awful

Favorite episode (scene if movie): her sending in furi vs kaijō, early in s3. it was an exceedingly smart move that could have only come from her knowing her players’ strengths and weaknesses intimately, and being a brilliant coach. just amazing <3

Favorite season/movie: all of them! riko has some amazing moments each season, so i can’t really pick

Favorite line: “Humans grow. Don't act like you understand when you don't even realize that!” here, riko knows and knows well that she is in her element. momoi might have the data, but riko understands adaptability and knows how to predict stuff. in that way, one can draw parallels between takao vs izuki and momoi vs riko: takao and momoi are recon experts, whereas riko and izuki are strategists. momoi uses raw data; riko manipulates the data to her advantage

Favorite outfit: idk if this is exactly an outfit but her glasses are so cute oh my gosh. (i’d kill to see her in a leather jacket tho)

OTP: rikomomo!!! i’m 100% sure that momoi’s fixation w/riko’s boobs is just... repressed lesbian sentiments. also sports girlfriends gimme

Brotp: hyuuizuriko. i hc that hyuuizu were tgt since elementary school and riko joined them in middle school so... childhood friends feels!

Head Canon: riko knows how to shoot a gun. her father owns one so it makes sense

Unpopular opinion: riko does not need to have bigger boobs in fanart. please stop sexualising a 17 year old girl

A wish: white suit riko please

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: her ever leaving behind sports in any way shape or form. it’s her thing. in the same vein, she should never have to change herself or become more traditionally feminine to be ‘appealing’

5 words to best describe them: perfect perfect perfect perfect perfect

My nickname for them: ai/riri

Aomine

Why I like them: aomine is just a pure, hurting young man that deserves help. he’s passionate, and his fire died down out of no fault of his own. that fire’s reignition through kagami is one of my favorite scenes <3

Why I don’t: he’s perverted as hell and i dislike that. it plays into the ‘brutish dark-skinned pervert’ stereotype which is yikes. also i thought we were done with pervs in anime

Favorite episode (scene if movie): s2 seirin v touou when kagami enters the zone!! aomine’s finally happy and it’s so amazing to watch <3

Favorite season/movie: s2, he finally got happiness and peace of mind

Favorite line: “You’re the best!” there’s just so much of pure joy in this line. he’s so so beside himself that he finally has someone he won’t destroy. kagami sees aomine the person, and that person is so happy, it’s beautiful

Favorite outfit: the leather jacket from the finale lmaooo he looked so cute

OTP: AOKAGA BABY i could write an essay tbh

Brotp: aomomo!! theyre such good friends and bi/lesbian solidarity too!

Head Canon: aomine cannot dance. he has stepped on kagami’s feet multiple times. he has also attempted to twerk when drunk. kuroko recorded the whole thing and uses it as blackmail in case the puppy eyes and “but aomine-kun you didn’t fist bump me back” don’t work

Unpopular opinion: more a fandom thing, but you all need to stop making aomine the aggressive/possessive top/‘seme’. it’s racist as fuck

A wish: aomine goes pro. it’ll be amazing for him, a huge challenge and kagami will be there too so its a win-win ;)

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: he quits again/b-ball loses its allure. aomine at heart is someone who needs passion to drive him so i just want that passion to always burn bright within him

5 words to best describe them: “bastard baby needs a hug”

My nickname for them: dai-chan, momoi rubbed off on me

[anakinthetrashking]

Ok, so you reblogged my post about bnha fic recs and I also looked through the ones you linked and I LOVED THEM. If its alright to ask, would you happen to have more Protective Aizawa or possibly Dadmic or Protective Present Mic? Also Protective Midnight or Momnight? Only if you have! Thanks! -bnhastanning

I somehow stupidly lost my reply to this ask, not once, but TWICE. at the end, when i was almost done. im so sorry but this will be the crappiest version yet... (also! hello, fellow batfam fan... *spiderman pointing meme*)

I read a lot of fic and i loooooove sharing them with people, so thanks for giving me an excuse to do this!! :D

lots of fics, so im putting them under the read more! One of these days I’ll get around to making more organized fic rec posts...

Dadmic: only a couple, and tbh i think they have more dadzawa in them?? Secondary Colors by NaoNazo

"You got pushed down the stairs... and you're apologizing for it," he stated blandly. "That seems counterintuitive." "Um... sorry?" Izuku whispered. He was starting to shake a little, adrenaline flooding his veins and leaving him cold. He had no idea what Purple was going for with his blunt statements and the hand reaching toward his shoulder as if to steady him, but apologizing was generally safe. "You don't have to apologize, dude. I don't know your name, but I doubt it's actually Deku." "Um. Midoriya." Izuku peered sideways at Purple as they rounded the corner. "Izuku Midoriya. Deku is just, um, just what my... friends call me." He winced. "Sounds real friendly."

and Cat Days by Griffinrose

Izuku has a shapeshifting quirk. He's not the best at controlling it, especially under stress. So when tragedy strikes and he gets lost in the city, he's stuck as a cat. At least he found a nice underground hero to take him in?

Pied Piper by Blackholeca has some really great concerned Dadmic in recent chapters!!

If they wouldn’t give him a chance then the solution seemed simple, he’d give himself one. He’d force the world to see him, force them to recognize his hard work. He wasn’t missing a quirk, it was simply that everyone else had been given an advantage. He wasn’t broken, or useless, or incapable, and he’d prove it by outrunning all of them, he who was quirkless, he who had started in last.

As for momnight, there are also only a couple, and im also not caught up with these either. i have a little bit more of an excuse with these, as Indefinite by OwlF45 is really REALLY long, as well as intense. Worth the read though! I just gotta catch up! So much mindblowing stuff in that, and the Momnight is really sweet.

It comes with the package deal of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Midoriya gets another chance at life, but he must throw it away when that dreaded day comes. After all, a life for nineteen is more than a fair trade.

Or: the world will rise or fall, and it depends on one boy protecting Class 1-A to prevent the inevitable.

The other Momnight one I have is A Single Reason by TheDeepSeaWitch. Also really good, but really intense and I’ve had to take a break because I was getting a bit depressed, whoops. But I liked it!

Training begins the next day, and doesn’t stop for any reason. They wait for heroes, then for police, then for anyone to save them, but nobody comes.

It’s only a month before Izuku forgets their names. It’s a year before he forgets his own.

It’s only a chance meeting with an impassioned soul eight long, painful years later that saves them.

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

They thought they were lost forever, that there was no future out there for them with their scars so visible and the blood on their hands still pungent and red. But if they have the strength to try, then perhaps, one day, they may yet find their forgiveness, and rediscover themselves along the way.

The Reforming Villains AU nobody asked for.

For Dadzawa:

Flare Signal by achievingelsium, of course! Annie writes some of my absolute fav dadzawa content, so definitely check it out!!

AU. Midoriya Izuku shouldn't be surprised he ended up like this: hiding the secret of One for All from his own father, the notorious villain Dragon. The path to being a hero is a hard one.

Or; Izuku is an aspiring hero forced to work for his father’s villain organization. Then he runs into All Might.

Izuku Ya’broker by Dreamillusions, is a fic i loved a LOT.

Perhaps you should actually listen to the news every once in a while, so you wouldn't end up in these kinds of situations. What kinds of situations? Glad you asked. Look at Izuku, for example. You would think Izuku would be at home after school, safe and sound from anyone attempting to, you know, kill him. But no, Izuku decided to roam around. Because of a bet. This is the kind of a situation you shouldn't end up in. Don't be Izuku.

Butterfly by aconstantstateofbladerunner, is rightfully popular! It has some horror/suspense themes though, so if thats not your style, try one of Blade’s other fics!! She’s a seriously good writer.

The first over-night trip off campus since the training camp was supposed to be a fun break from more intense work back home.  But between a bleak introduction to chaos theory, a chilly reception from the locals, and the looming threat of a villain attack, Izuku has too much on his mind to properly enjoy the fresh air.  But those worries are a light breeze compared to the hurricane that accompanies what he finds on the outskirts of town.

Or rather, what finds him.

A House Divided Against Itself by BeyondTheClouds777, another one of my fav fics by a great writer!

"Become a villain," they said.

“I’ll be a villain,” he said.

He lied. He’s only there so he can tear apart the League of Villains from the inside out.

The scars we carry by Banana_Ink is a great AU with plenty of Dadzawa

Aizawa rescued Izuku from the league of villains and takes care of the child for now. Izuku has two quirks in this AU, one natural - Forced Quirk Activation - and one that AFO 'gifted' him with - Self-Heal. He has a pretty big handprint-scar on his face and started as a problem child, scared and wary of people. But Aizawa managed to help him slowly heal.

This AU is just some silly little thing I came up in my freetime and like to add to it as I go, so I don't have a plan at all. Mostly I write for fun so I hope you might enjoy this as well :D

Ticked Off by Xenolis is a fic that I just want to rec all the time,,, for some reason...

~ ON HIATUS/OCCASIONAL UPDATES ~ Midoriya Izuku attracted trouble. It was just a fact of life – the sky was blue, the grass was green, and Izuku constantly found himself in an absurd number of deadly situations. He was okay with that. Mortal peril was an average Tuesday afternoon for a Pro Hero like him. Being kidnapped was practically a holiday. Saving civilians as a building collapsed around him was easier than facing his worried mum afterwards. He had dealt with All Might's disappointed dad stare and only cried for two hours afterwards. A serial killing villain with an unknown Quirk would be no problem! ..but even Izuku had to admit that being sent back in time to his first day at UA wasn't on the agenda. Still, there was no-one more spitefully determined than him – he was going to make the most of it. Yeah, good luck, heroes and villains alike! Deku was here to cause mischief and love his friends!

Toward A Bright Future by LazyRainDancer holds a special, soft place in my heart. I always want to go reread it after watching the show and I always want to rewatch the show after reading it. it never ends

You wake up at UA, the highest ranked hero school in the country, with no recollection of how you got there. Unfortunately, those aren't the only memories you're missing. Still, you can't let a little amnesia get in the way of you warning the school about the attack you know will happen during Class 1-A's field trip to the USJ. After you deliver your warning, you're beyond shocked when the principal offers you a position as a TA for Class 1-A. You accept the position in hopes that you'll be able to use your Quirk to help protect the students. It'll be far from easy, but you're determined to do whatever it takes to change the students' future for the better.

The rest don’t really have Dadzawa? But theyre really good so I had to rec them anyway

once forgotten, twice removed by blueh, good writer for multiple fandoms

“Yes,” All for One agreed. “This will be the final resting place of All Might.” “You,” Midoriya Izuku said and paused, thinking over the words. He sounded taken aback. “You want me to help fight All Might.” “Of course,” All for One nodded along. “I can offer you double of whatever my counterpart is paying you currently, along with anything your little heart could desire. Of course, you would get to help out drastically—" “Did you happen to check what world you were pulling me out of when you did this?” Midoriya Izuku interrupted and it was said in such an incredulous tone that had the situation not been as critical as it was, All Might would have laughed. Also known as: number one hero Deku has been through a lot of things, but being thrust into an alternate reality where he’s All for One’s Successor is a first.  He has to navigate this world when his alternate self is a villain dead-set on killing him and all of this version of class 1-A. All the while, his friends search desperately for a way to get him back.

Office Space by Caelismylife quirkless izuku gets a job at UA analyzing quirks, HECK YES

It took a little time, but he eventually found himself with a job at UA. The revolving door of heroes was not in the contract.

To Repair with Gold by TitleUnwanted FEEEEELS

AU. Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me, biggest lie in the world. Tattoos, which appeared when quirks did, are when a person feels an impact on something they are told and it becomes inked on their body, the closer they show to your heart the deeper the impact it has on the person.

For Izuku this is a blessing and a curse.

An Accident at Workstudy by Galactic_Jax been enjoying this one!

Izuku is working hard to prove himself at his work study, but it's hard when Sir Nighteye has made it clear he's not wanted. But what happens when Izuku is caught in a villain attack on his way to the agency? Will a few revelations about his most recent intern's past be enough for Sir Nighteye to change his mind about All Might's successor?

Nice to Meet You? by Allwalkfree didn’t know i needed this until i read it           

Kirishima introduces Bakugou to his favorite senpai. In which over several encounters Bakugou and Amajiki learn to become tentative friends.

A Study in Firsts by Oceanbreeze7 dorm shenanigans AND feels

There’s a first time for everything. The first time everyone crammed in Momo’s room to study, a mess of limbs and books on her bed. The first time Mina burned crepes so badly the smoke alarm went off. The first time a jumpscare got Sero so badly, he flipped off the back of the couch. The first time Uraraka fell asleep at the table and accidentally sent it floating. The first time someone realized Todoroki walked far too quietly, and far too cautiously around the dorms to be normal. The first time Midoriya broke his toe on a door frame and kept walking through it. The first time Kirishima woke up screaming through the walls. The first time Tsuyu blanched at the sight of a needle. The first time Bakugo dropped, clutching the back of his neck with eyes scarily vacant and detonating everything around him until Aizawa had to intervene. It wasn’t always pretty, but the dorms were filled with firsts.

Hero Class Civil Warfare by Roguedruid extremely satisfying to read

Heroes lead by Bakugo. Villains lead by Midoriya. Seven days prep time. Three days for Izuku Midoriya to show why they should be glad he's not a real villain.

A Fleeting Smile by AnonymousTwit good bakugou content

Or a collection of fifteen Bakusquad one shots where someone outside of the Bakusquad catches a rare glimpse of a friendlier side of Bakugou Katsuki, and one time that is specifically reserved for the four people that he hates the least.

Hope this gives you something to work with!!! I have more(and am always adding) in my bookmarks on AO3, but this should be a good start! Hopefully you’ll find at least one that you love! have a great day!!!! -Ani <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

[sinfullytempting]

Temptations (Gluttony)

ITS YEOSANG! HE IS THE NEXT SIN

San (Lust 1) / Yeosang (Gluttony 2) / Seonghwa (Greed 3) / Wooyoung (Envy 4) / Filler Chapter (5)

You shoot up from your spot once he disappears, fear swimming in your eyes as you look around. “What the fuck?” Is the first words out of your mouth. You rub your eyes, looking down at your chest out of reflex. Its still there, in bright red lettering, your very own S I N in red cursive lettering. You get up, dragging your feet towards the closet door, hoping not to meet his so called brothers. “What just happened…” You get changed for the day, still looking around, just incase San was still around.

You grabbed your bag and bolted out the door and towards your first class, avoiding people at every cost, sitting down next to your friend with a worried glance from her. “Jinnie do you remember anything last night?” At the shake of her head she frowns. “Did you have any dreams?” She shakes her head again, worry forming. “Y/n are you ok?” You nod, a hand over the lettering, feeling somewhat protective of the word.

You barely focus in class, spacing out, almost paranoid as you scan out the window, thinking you see San in dark spots of the field, thinking hes in your peripheral vision only to not be there when you glance. You take a deep breath only to jump when the bell rings signalling the end of class and the break between classes, where there are 5 minutes to get to your other class and the temptation to skip is overwhelming.

You bit your lip before heading towards the cafeteria, deciding to skip second period. Walking in the first thing you notice is someones already in there…and eating? You blink and take in the person. Your college is big so you dont know everyone but you believe youve never seen this kid before. Bright pink hair and icy blue eyes once he looks up and the writing burns when he looks at you. But he perks up, eyes bright and excited as if hes seen something new.

“You can see me?!” He sounds ecstatic, and the warning bells go off in your head, San’s name is on the tip of your tongue but before you can say it he holds his hands up. “Dont call Sannie!” Thats why. You bite your lip, hand holding the shirt over the writing. “How do you know S-”

“Dont say his name!”

You frown but nod carefully. San’s name seems like a threat to him so you store it safely in your head. “Im Yeosang, my sin is Gluttony. And my color is orange…” He glances at the orange starbursts then towards the tangerines he was eating. “Uh yeah..” You dont know what it is but you take a few steps closer to him and he smiles softly, something about him makes you calm and you sit in front of him. “How much has Sannie told you?” You think back to this morning. “Only about this.” You pull down your shirt so he can read the lettering. “Wow he used his nail, and he claimed you…” He mumbled before he nodded. “What he told you most probably correct.” He pops another starbursts into his hand and offers you one which you take and glance at him when he speaks again.

“But has he told you about anything else? Thats the most important thing but…basically, youre pretty useless…whatever you do here, San’s claimed you. Meaning you have basically ‘immunity’ and you can see us, ‘supernatural’ beings.” You nod, chewing on the candy slowly. “Am i the second one you met?” You nod and he breathes a sigh of relief as he pouts. “You do smell good and its a shame Sannie got to you first, but he will treat you well!”

You swallow it and bite your lip. “Do i smell the same to you?” He shook his head before nodding. “Yes and no, you smell pure but to me you smell like citrus? Delicate…” You nod slowly and he bites back a giggle. “Makes no sense huh?” You nod and he cant hide the giggles and it makes your lips twitch up in response and it only turns his giggles into full laughter, your own giggles mixing in and he stands up.

“I was looking for you, and its nice to meet you, im positive we will meet again! I hope you can handle the next sin you meet! And Remember Sannie is always one breath away.” You nod and watch as he cleans up when the bell rings and disappearing from in front of you with only words left. “Sannie is possessive, so be careful when you meet the other sins.” With that hes gone and the first few kids trickle in for lunch.

You space out for the rest of the school day.

And the burning stops

——————————————————-

You practically breath out San’s name once you close and lock the door. “San?” He materializes on your couch, relaxed like he had been waiting for you to call his name. “You smell like Sanggie.” You blink before you drop your back and slip off your shoes. “So im the only one that can you guys can see?” San pauses before nodding. “Unless we want to be seen.” You nod, feet moving towards San on their own and you sit by his feet and he grins, canine’s sharp.

“Yeosang also said that i have ‘immunity’? Whats that mean?” The smile drops and he groans. “I hate explaining things. Why didnt Sanggie do it?” You huff. “Hes so much nicer then you, plus we had…a time limit you could say.” He nods, humming quietly. “Alright. Yes, im somewhat your ‘guardian angel’ just more aggressive. You’re personal guardian sin, your little demon.” He grins at you.

You rub your head and sigh, already comfortable, yet a little on edge, with San. “You dont show up whenever i say your name right?” He shook his head. “I chose. Why?” He furrowed his brows and stopped spinning- Is that a pair of your underwear?! You snatch the garmet from his finger and throw it in the laundry. “Dont touch that!” He feins a pout.

“Yeosang said not to say your name because it calls you to me…” San chuckles. “It does, but i can see what you see, but he wouldnt know, Sanggie has never claimed anyone before.” You nod and San hums.

“Whats to eat?” You throw a glare but turn into the kitchen. “Can you even eat human food?” San hums again, deep in his throat. “I can, i dont like it most of the time, i usually feed off people who have sex, i feed off my sin. But now that i have you, love, i might have to eat real food for a little bit.” Your cheeks flush and you pout at him. “What does that mean!?” San laughs at your flustered state before wrapping his arms around your waist, startling you by how fast he appeared behind you.

“It means darling, that when you have sex ill feed off that, when you get, squirmy and wet, i feed off that.” He presses his lips against your throat and stays there. “If you have sex with me, im fed for a two weeks.” He murmurs before he smirks at the shiver that runs down your spine. “Did Yeosang tell you anything else?” You hesitate but nod, another shiver appearing when San runs the tip of his nose up your neck, hot breath fanning across your skin.

“H-He said youre possessive so i have to be careful around the others when i meet them…” San sops before he grins, tightening his hold. “I am possessive, i want you to smell like me all the time.” He whispers. “So if you come along any other demons they wont try and touch you.” He murmurs, sharp nails pressing into your skin.

He pulls away as you crouch to grab pans to make dinner as your stomach growls softly and San giggles, making you giggle quietly before you start cooking. “Chicken is for dinner.” He hums. “Sanggie would love to be here.” He hums quietly and you nod. “Yeosang likes chicken?” He nods before thinking. “Try real hard and you might be able to summon him…” You nod. “Maybe when im done…i dont need two demons breathing down my neck…”

He laughs but theres something deep and hidden in it, and its almost scary. “Once you meet everyone, we can do something special…”

You bite your lip.

Your mind goes back to his words. ‘If you have sex with me, im fed for two weeks.’

The doorbell rings and you can feel San tense, a growl leaving his lips, he can smell the anger from the other side of the door.

“San open the fucking door i can smell you, i want to see her too, Sanggie already saw her and thats not fair.”

[krustywhore]

goodbye until tomorrow

the long-awaited sequel to i could never rescue you

guys i spent so long on this and i really can’t wait for you all to read it. first of all, i have to dedicate this to my lovely friend wet @wetcoffeejpg because she kept me so motivated throughout the whole writing process with teaching me how to write her lovely oc skip, as well as how to maneuver scenes, come up with events, and get me out of so many writers block pits. i can’t thank you enough boo and i really hope i did our daughter justice;)

anyway, find it on ao3 here!

(also this thing is so goddamn long that since tumblr erases all italics, i’m just not going to redo them here. i would recommend reading this on ao3)

Jack woke up with a start that next morning. His dreamless sleep was interrupted by a jolting scream as his hazel eyes snapped open.

Snyder’s sadistic sneer was the first thing he saw as he fully took in the man pinning Race to his chest with his free hand clamped over the boy’s mouth. Race had tears pouring down his cheeks as he thrashed and shook under the old man’s grip.

Jack felt his stomach drop as he scrambled to his feet, stumbling half-awake after Snyder as he practically threw Race through the door and slammed it in Jack’s face.

“Jack! Jack help me! Please, I can’t-“

Race’s screams through the door stopped abruptly and Jack stood, pounding and kicking at the door before sinking to his knees, banging his forehead against the cold metal.

Just like that, everything had fallen apart in seconds and there was nothing he could do.

His chest felt heavy and his breaths became shallow until a small voice spoke up and he whipped around on his knees, stumbling back against the door.

“Where’s he takin’ ‘im?” A small girl stood before him with deeply-rooted fear behind her eyes as she rocked back and forth on her heels. “Is he…is he gettin’ outta’ ‘ere?”

The horror quickly turned to wonder as Jack chuckled humorlessly.

“Nah, kid. It ain’t that easy,” he sighed, too exhausted by the rocky start to the morning to traumatize a little kid. “But he…he’s gon’ be fine, don’t ya’ worry ‘bout him.”

He plastered on a fake smile as the little girl nodded, not seeming to believe Jack in the slightest.

“But he was crying! And…and screaming,” she spoke, the fear returning to her voice as Jack picked himself up off the floor and followed her back to the bunk she had been staying in.

“Yeah, kiddo, but I’m gonna’ try ta’ make sure he’s okay. I guess you’s right, maybe he ain’t okay right now, but I’s gonna’ make sure Snyder ain’t gonna’ lay another hand on ‘im,” Jack spoke, sitting beside the girl as he crossed her legs in front of her.

She nodded, tucking a strand of her short brown hair behind her ear as she shifted awkwardly in her position. Jack coupld practically hear his own heart pounding in his chest.

“So who is he then?” The little girl asked, folding her arms over her chest.

Jack sighed deeply, glancing back up at the door. “Tha’ guys back home, we all call ‘im Racetrack. Race for short. His name’s really Antonio, though.”

“Oh, so’s ya’ already knew ‘im?” Jack chuckled and told her yes. “Then why’s he ‘ere?”

Yikes.

“Well, he’s a good guy, ya’ see. He ain’t done nothin’ wrong. Actually, he was savin’ one a’ our friends from gettin’ thrown in ‘ere,” Jack spoke, an overwhelming amount of admiration in his voice.

“Why are you here, then?” Her twinkling green eyes reminded Jack quite a bit of himself back when he first entered the refuge. All he had wanted to do was meet all of the other kids and learn their stories. He still remembered almost all of the friends he made back then.

“Well, you see,” he started, noticing a few more kids around him start to listen in as he chuckled lightly, pulling off his cap to run his hands through his hair a little. “I’s one a’ them newsies that sell papes for the paper companies across the city. The pro’lem is that the bosses a’ the papes, they’s not too fond a’ us kids. So’s the raised the price we had ta’ pay ta’ get the papes by a whole dime.” The kid seemed blown away.

"Really? They's can jus' do that? But that ain't fair!"

"Yeah, we know, kiddo. That's kinda' why we's fightin'," Jack finished simply, a small smile on his face as he stood, turning away from the little girl.

Jack, like some sort of machine controlled to move, went back to the window. He sat on the ledge, leaning his head against the bars as he watched the door across the room, trying to decide if he wanted the door to open again.

On one hand, the door opening up again would likely mean getting Race back.

On the other hand, getting Race back meant whatever Snyder or his goons did to him was real.

So, he just sat there and waited. He had no idea how long it had been, but the moment the walls felt paper thin and the giant metal door felt like nothing, he could hear the screams.

“No! Get the fuck off a’ me! You can’t-do-this! Ugh, you dick! Jus’ let me back in, fuckin’ hell!”

Race’s voice was only slightly reassuring. Yeah, the words he spoke made Jack feel sick to his stomach, but at least he was alive, and at least he was conscious, and at least he seemed to be back to his typical fiery attitude.

He scrambled off the window ledge and moved across the concrete floor, motioning to the kids around the room to stay where they were as the heavy metal door scraped across the floor. There was silence as the door slowly creaked open, but just as Jack was about to go dashing through looking for Race, the boy went flying across the floor, face down and crumpled.

Jack slid across the floor on his knees situating himself by the boy’s head as he grabbed his shoulder and rolled Race onto his back.

“Fuck, Racer,” he breathed as the boy groaned, reaching up to his face as he wiped his hand under his nose, cracking his eyes open and groaning at the blood covering his hand. “Did he…what tha’ fuck did he do?”

Race just shook his head, covering. His eyes with his hand as he rubbed his temples.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it, Jackie,” he slurred, wincing as he made a move to sit upright. “I’s fine, jus’ help me up, will ya?”

Jack mumbled out a string of useless curse words as he slid his hands under Race’s back and lifted him slightly as the boy folded his legs in front of him.

Considering he had already been in pretty rough shape before, he looked terrible. His nose was probably broken, not to mention the left black eye he was already sporting seemed to have somehow gotten darker. The blood from the gash on his chest was seeping through his shirt, showing that it had reopened, and he seemed to be sitting a little awkwardly, likely meaning there were more things that Jack couldn’t even see.

“Alright, I ain’t gonna jus’ let ya’ bleed out ‘ere on tha’ ground, c’mon,” he mumbled, sliding his arms around the other and carefully lifting him across the room. Race slung one arm around Jack’s shoulders, but held tightly to the buttons along the boy’s shirt with his other hand.

“P-please, jus’…jus’ don’ l-l-leave me, Jackie,” Race mumbled, a little blood dripping from the corner of his lips. “H-he…I c-c-can’t go back-k there.”

Jack shuddered as he gently lowered the boy onto one of the sagging mattresses, making sure to be as careful as possible.

“That okay, kid?” Race nodded, shutting his eyes tight as he covered his face with his hands “You sure?”

Race paused, not responding before a weak whimper broke his lips and his hands flew to grab onto Jack’s shirt, pulling him onto his knees beside the bed.

“N-no! It…It ain’t fine! Snyder he-he made me take all my clothes off b-b-but when he saw my chest, h-he said I was hopeless n’ jus’…said he was gonna’ ‘get it ov’a with’,” Race cried, his voice a terrified whisper as his trembling hands gripped the front of Jack’s shirt tightly. “He kept t-touching me, touching my chest, Jack! H-he said he wanted ta’ make it worse so’s he could get it ov’a with…I don’…what’d he mean, Jackie? H-he didn’t…is he try’na get rid a’ me?”

His eyes were wide and bloodshot as he leaned in close to Jack’s face, whispering harshly.

Jack shuddered, his eyes flicking down to the growing patch of blood seeping through the boy’s short and almost gagging as he covered his mouth with his hand. God, he couldn’t think. Everything was just so, so much happening at once and he couldn’t breathe right because if he took a second to breathe then maybe he’d lose Race again and they’d be done for.

So he settled for hazily shaking his head and not meeting the boy’s eyes.

“Jack…,” he whispered, letting go of the boy’s shirt as he sank back into the old mattress, tears building in the corners of his eyes. “Jack, I’s so scared. H-he’s makin’ sure I ain’t gettin’ outta’ ‘ere in once piece.”

Jack nodded, inhaling sharply as he shakily sat down on the edge of the bunk and wrapped a hand gently around the boy’s shoulder.

“You’s gonna’ be okay. I don’ know how, but you’s gonna’ make it outta’ this shithole. Me n’ you, Racer. We’s gettin’ out a’ here together,” Jack whispered, a shy smile on his face as he turned back to look at the boy. Race sniffled, rubbing the tears out of his eyes as he nodded, grinning as he caught his breath. “Good. I’s gonna’ let ya’ sleep in jus’ a second, I jus’ gotta’ get a look at ya’.”

Race hummed in acceptance, but whined the moment Jack had almost peeled his shirt off completely. He motioned for Jack to keep going, but shoved his fist in his mouth to keep from screaming as the gash was exposed. There were both old and new beads of sweat rolling down his forehead as he went pale, looking away the moment he saw the damage.

“Hey,” Jack started, gently turning the boy’s head to look over at him instead. “Look at me, kid. It…it ain’t that bad. You’s gonna’ be jus’ fine, I swears it. Don’t even look, I’s gonna’ take care of it.”

Jack tore at the edge of the ratty, old bedsheet before he ripped loose a suitable sized piece to clean up the boy. Within seconds it was bright red. He was able to get rid of most of the blood, but the problem was that after that, he could really see how much shit they were going to have to deal with.

Yeah, it was pretty badly infected. He had a feeling it had been for a while at that point, but as much as he hated to admit it, there wasn’t much he could do. They didn’t really get access to more water than they needed to drink, they didn’t get a chance to shower and clean it out, and they definitely didn’t get any medicine, so they would just have to wait it out and hope for the best.

Hope for the best, he scoffed, rolling his eyes as he leaned up against the bunk bed ladder, Race already fast asleep beside him. Yeah, I’ll just hope for the best that I’m not carrying that kid’s body out of this hell-hole.

“I thought ya’ said he was gonna’ be okay?” A small voice shocked him out of his frustration. Amelia, the little girl who had come up to him earlier that day now stood in front of him with her small arms crossed over her chest.

Jack sat down on one of the lower rungs of the ladder as he tried to keep the growing anxiety subsided as much as possible.

“Don’ worry ‘bout ‘im, Ames, he’s gonna’ be fine,” Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair.

She didn’t seem satisfied with that answer. “You said he was okay, but you was lyin’! He’s all…all hurt n’ bloody!”

Jack rolled his eyes and climbed off the ladder, tucking his hands into his pockets as he headed for the window. She practically dove after him, skipping animatedly to catch up as he sat down on the window sill.

“Woah, slow down there, skipper,” he chuckled, grabbing the girl’s shoulders to steady her as she plopped down beside him in a cross-legged position. She beamed, looking up at the older boy. “What, ya’ like that? Skipper?”

Skip shrugged and nodded casually, but the pride blooming across her face from her new nickname was blatantly obvious.

“So, Skip,” Jack exhaled, teasing a little before he leaned back against the window and picked at a patch of dried blood on the cuff of his sleeve. “I’s been in ‘ere quite a few times before n’ it ain’t easy ta’ explain this, but I think you’s ready for it.”

She nodded and Jack glanced around the room before starting, his eyes lingering on Race for an extra moment as he watched the boy’s chest rising and falling slowly.

“Nobody that comes in or out a’ this place is exactly ‘okay’ or ‘not okay’. Maybe if I get outta’ ‘ere one day, I’s gonna’ be okay on the outside, but maybe I’s still gonna’ have nightmares about this place for a while. Maybe you’s gonna’ be okay inside when ya’ get outta’ ‘ere, but maybe you’s gonna’ have a few scrapes n’ bruises on tha’ outside,” Jack explained, not really wanting to look at anything other than his fingers as the bloodstained fabric slowly began to fall apart in his fingers. “Racer ain’t okay right now, but that’s jus’ today. We don’t got any idea how long it’s gonna be ’til he’s okay, but I’s gonna’ make sure he is, so you don’t have ta’ worry ‘bout anythin’, okay, kid?”

Skip seemed to understand as she nodded, looking over at Race for a second before hopping off the window ledge and skipping over to the bunk bed. She slid to her knees beside where Race remained peacefully asleep and carefully reached out to poke at his face.

Jack just about flew over there, but Race was already stirring by the time he appeared behind Skip, who still had the proudest grin on her face.

Race groaned as he rolled onto his side, cracking one eye open to squint at her as Skip waved to him.

Race opened his eyes fully, looking to Jack for a second as the latter just shrugged.

“Hey’a kid,” Race grumbled, rubbing at his eyes gently enough to not irritate the bruises.

Skip looked up at Jack behind her, pleased with herself before she hopped onto the bed, startling Race a little as he chuckled nervously.

“Uh, you got’s a name, don’t ya’?” Race seemed to be trying his hardest to not be rude in what was, frankly, a very annoying situation.

Skip just tucked her legs in front of her and she rested her arms on her knees, balancing her chin on top.

“Skip,” she spoke curtly, not doing much but staring at him. “Jack tol’ me ‘bout you.”

Race scoffed dryly, turning to look over at Jack, who shrugged.

“Can I sit?” She asked, already sitting.

Race chuckled weakly, running a hand through his hair. “Well, I see’s you’s made ya’self at home ‘ere already, Skipper.”

Skip rolled her eyes, but readjusted herself to be more comfortable nonetheless.

“So,” Race coughed, rolling onto his back as he tried to plaster something other than pain onto his face. “I’s gonna’ take a lil’ nap, but you’s welcome ta’ join me if ya’ feel so inclined.”

Right, so apparently near-death didn’t apply to his spirit.

Jack chuckled and dig into his sock before pulling out a small stick of charcoal.

“You’s ever tried drawin’ b’fore?” Jack asked, already keeping his voice down after hearing Race’s gentle snores beside him. Skip shook her head but he waved for her to follow him back to the window. He carefully pried it open and reached through to pull out a single newspaper page that Spot had left behind. Jack had already read it over a few times, it was a documentation from Specs about all of the injuries and problems from the strike after all, but the other side was nice and clean. He folded it up into a small rectangle before holding it up and sketching the little girl.

“So, Skipper. What brings ya’ in ‘ere? If ya’ don’t mind me askin’, that is,” Jack pondered as he drew, carefully capturing the slight curve at the end of her freckle-covered nose.

“Oh, uh…I uh ran away a coupl’a months ago,” she mumbled, a nervous blush growing on her cheeks. “My parents, they’s real rich, but I guess afta’ my brother died, they didn’t feel like wastin’ any more a’ they’s money on me, so I ran away.”

Jack sighed and nodded, reaching over to ruffle the girl’s dark brown waves.

“Snyder found me tryna’ get some food off a’ some cart in a farmers’ market n’ he took me ‘ere,” she finished. “That was ‘bout a week or two ago. I can’t r’member.”

“Good on ya’, kid. You’s tough,” Jack smirked, blowing off the excess charcoal dust before handing over the paper to the girl. Her eyes widened as she gazed at the portrait, the light from the setting sun making her young eyes twinkle with wonder.

“You pictured me? Jus’ like that?” Skip beamed, a new look of admiration on her face. “Are ya’ an artist?”

Jack chuckled, carefully sliding off the windowsill as he held out his hand, helping Skip hop down the same.

“It’s more like a hobby, but sure, if you’s bein’ vague ‘bout it,” Jack remarked, the girl’s awe of his talent making his cheeks go pink.

Skip simply skipped back to the bunk and gently crawled up beside Race. She was careful not to disturb the boy, but she quickly tossed her cap onto the thin mattress and used it as a pillow.

“Get some sleep, kid. Don’t hesitate ta’ get me if ya’ need anythin’,” Jack whispered, ruffling her hair before returning to the other side of the bunk and quickly pressing his hand against Race’s forehead. The boy was burning up and the beads of sweat matting his hair down to his forehead were collecting in rapid fashion. There were darkening circles around his eyes where the bruises had started to fade and his skin had gone sickeningly pale.

Goddamn, if things started falling apart already, there was no way they could make it much longer. They were just two days in and Jack could already tell that Race’s infection was catching up to him. Sure, Skip would be fine without catching it, seeing as it was almost certainly from his chest, rather than an actual contagious illness, but he didn’t want her to get worried. He would get her out of there if he could, but in all honesty, Race was his priority and if it came down to getting one person out of the three of them, he’d at least make sure it wasn’t him.

So, as the sun began to set on just their second day, Jack kept his back against the bedpost with his hand wrapped around Race’s shoulder and his eyes trained on the door. He didn’t sleep much, but he had more important things to do. Sure, he knew that if Davey knew he wasn’t taking care of himself, he’d flip out, but Jack understood these things better than his friend. Being in and out of the refuge his whole life gave him the intel he needed to know exactly how to protect the people he needed to protect and how to keep himself around for nothing more than to do his one job.

He stared out at the nearly completely silent room and sighed, tugging his cap down over his eyes and hoping at least closing his eyes for a little while would be close enough to sleeping.

The next morning, there was a rapid knocking on the window. The old glass pane rattled and Jack practically flew out of his seat. He was at the window in seconds, face to face with a small group of his friends. He fiddled with the latch through the bars before he slid open the window and threw his arms around the boy, not really minding the bars in between them.

“Davey, I’s so sorry,” Jack whined, gripping onto the boy’s vest as they separated. Davey’s eyes were raw and his cheeks were bright red, breaking Jack’s heart to think that the boy had cried for him. “I should’a done somethin’, I’s s’pposed ta’ be tha’ one takin’ care a’ you guys, but I’s tha’ one stuck up in ‘ere.”

“Shh, shh,” Davey shushed him, gripping Jack’s shoulders. “We’re going to be fine, you just worry about getting out of here in one piece. We’ve got things handled just fine, but you…you just need to keep holding your ground. Specs and I, we can handle the kids back at the house. Besides, the strike’s about to be handled now.”

Jack’s terrified eyes widened as he let go of Davey in shock. He looked through the small trio, relieved to notice nothing more than scabbing cuts and fading bruises. Davey, Albert, and a very nervous looking Katherine picking at the cuff of her blouse in the back.

“You’s all okay?” Jack asked, his voice soft and concerned as awkward nods filled the group. “Ya’ ain’t hurt or nothin’?”

Albert sniffled a little, lifting his eyes as he glanced behind Jack, looking into the room.

“W-where’s Race?” Albert shyly asked, a primitive fear in his eyes that Jack knew all too well. He put on a smile, hoping to ease some of that fear, even just for a moment.

“I ain’t gonna’ sugar coat it, he’s here. He’s still a bit worn out from the other day, so’s he’s still asleep, but he’s gonna’ be fine, don’t worry,” Jack sighed, hoping he wasn’t lying. That didn’t seem to ease his friends much, but it was something. “Albert, he told me ta’ tell ya’ thanks for what ya’ did last night. Really helped.”

That got a small smile out of the boy as he shifted off his toes, properly sitting back down.

“You okay, Kath?” Jack seemed to startle the girl, who hadn’t looked him in the eyes the entire time.

Her head shot up, her curls bouncing as she stammered out a response, “Y-yes! Yeah, um, yes. Yeah, I’m fine.”

Jack snorted, a more genuine smile filling up his face instead.

“Yeah right, you’s actin’ jus’ like you was when I first caught ya’ on tha’ streets,” Jack teased, hoping to get the girl to stop looking at him like someone just kicked her puppy.

“Sorry, sorry,” she rambled, her hands mindlessly smoothing out her hair as she flattened out her skirt. “Sorry, I’m just…a little stressed out.”

Jack smiled sadly as he reached through the bars and placed a hand on her knee.

“Kath, tha’ only thing worth worryin’ ya’ pretty little head ‘bout is keepin’ these hooligans in line n’ gettin’ out a good story. I’s gonna’ be fine. Albo, keep ya’ head on ya’ shoulders, Race’ll be fine. Jus’ be safe, all a’ you’s got nothin’ ta’ worry about ’til tha’ strike’s over,” he rambled, trying to make sure that they would be done in time to get Albert back to the lodging house and Katherine and Davey back to their families. He couldn’t stand the possibility of Snyder and his goons catching any of them on their way sneaking out. “Ju’s be careful gettin’ outta’ ‘ere. Snyder’s got a few guys that wait outside when tha’ sun goes down, jus’ make sure ta’ keep ya’ head down n’ try not ta’ call attention ta’ ya’self.”

Jack made sure to get a nod out of each of them before he let himself relax, only to almost fall off the stoop when Skip plopped down beside him.

“Jack! Jack, ya’ gotta’ come quick!” Her half-whisper, half-shout was too much for Jack to hold back a chuckle as he ruffled her hair, scooting over so she could have a proper seat on the windowsill.

“Skip, these are my friends; Davey, Albert, n’ Katherine. Guys, this is Skip,” Jack quickly explained, brightening a little when he saw his friends quickly take to the girl. “What’s goin’ on, kiddo?” He turned to her completely as she stood up just as quickly as she had sat and grabbed his hand, attempting to pull him up off the window.

“C’mon, Race is awake, finally,” she sighed dramatically as Jack felt the knot in his stomach unravel slightly. The group started to perk up slightly as Jack let himself be led by the girl back to the bunk.

Race was in a coughing fit, his face buried in the crook of his elbow as his free arm held himself up on his side. Jack quickly slid to his knees to be level with the boy, brushing the hair out of his face and easing him up to be able to sit upright. With less pressure rushing to his head, Race’s coughing subsided and he now resorted to a drowsy state of weak movement, almost as if he was about to fall asleep again in a matter of seconds.

“Hey,” Jack spoke softly, his tone gentle as he placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Hey, kid, ya’ with me?”

Race nodded weakly, his wiry curls not bouncing like the usually did, instead staying matted down to his forehead with sweat.

“Can I…can I get a quick look at ya’ chest, Racer?” Race let out a small noise of disapproval, but nodded anyway as Jack’s hands carefully began to unbutton his shirt. The skin around the gash was all yellow and purple like a fading bruise and no matter what they did it seemed impossible for it to scab over. To be honest, it looked even worse.

“S’ infected,” he grumbled, already reworking all the buttons. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, Ant. You’s gonna’ be fine.” Race didn’t seem very convinced and honestly, Jack didn’t blame him, but he had to try to help at least a little. “C’mon, let’s go say ‘hey’ ta’ our friends,” Jack muttered, sliding an arm around Race’s torso as he slung the boy’s arm over his shoulders.

“They...they’s here?” Excitement filled the boy’s face as he looked over at Jack.

“Yeah, they’s here, kid.”

Sadly, the smile that lit up Race’s face when he saw his friends was almost ruined by the look on all of their faces. Yeah, Race probably looked awful and maybe Jack was just used to it at that point, but Race looked almost heartbroken.

“H-h-hey guys,” he mumbled, suddenly much shyer than he originally had been just minutes ago.

“Race, what the hell happened?” Davey practically seethed, his eyes wide and terrified like the mama-bird friend he was and Race felt oh, so small. “Did...did Snyder do this?” It seemed like he almost didn’t really want to know the answer.

Race just shrugged his shoulders, acutely aware of how even the slightest movement made his chest sting.

“No, not really I guess,” he mumbled. “S’ from tha’ strike, but I guess Snyder didn’t make it any betta’.”

Davey motioned for him to sit on the windowsill and Race carefully lowered himself down, gripping the bars until his knuckles were white. Katherine reached through the bars to brush away a small collection of dirt on his cheek and Race almost flinched away from her completely. She frowned at the boy’s hesitance, but was gentle as she gave one last little tweak of his curls before slinking back into her previous position.

“You’s all okay?” He whispered, more hopeful than he had thought it would be. Katherine, as expected, was fine and Davey only had a few visible cuts and bruises on his face and arms, but he had no way of know just how bad everyone back at the house was.

Davey and Katherine looked at each other for a moment before they both shrugged and nodded.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. They’re all pretty scared, though,” he added, a weak smile on his face that didn’t even come close to reaching his eyes.

“They’s scared? What for? Spot tol’ me ‘imself, Brooklyn’s joinin’ tha’ strike, n’ tha’ rest a’ tha’ city, they’s pro’lly gonna’ join too n’-“

“They’s scared for you two,” Katherine interrupted, not looking up from her hands that rested carefully in her lap. “Those kids...they don’t know how this works. Most of them have never been so scared in their lives because for once, they had a family that loved them and they just lost a pretty important part of it.”

Race sniffles and nodded, feeling his heart swell with longing to be back home too.

“I miss ‘em,” he whispered, staring out past them as night fell over the rest of the city. “If I...if I don’t make it outta’ ‘ere, please jus’ promise me ya’ won’t make those kids hold on. Don’t try ta’ make ‘em all remember me or nothin’, I don’t want anybody gettin’ sad over somethin’ that ain’t they’s fault.”

No one said anything for a long time after that. Some kids had started going to bed and even Skip hand curled herself up to Jack’s side, but no one else dared to move.

After lingering for longer than any of them would like to admit, Katherine pressed a quick kiss to the top of the boy’s head as Davey squeezed his hand, following behind her as they carefully climbed down the fire escape.

Race fell asleep right there on the window sill as Jack carried Skip back to the bunk and sat right back down on the floor beside him.

Outside, Davey and Katherine reached the ground and were met with a trembling and petrified Albert waiting right at the base of the ladder.

“Albert? Hey, hey it’s okay. It’s okay just breathe. Deep breaths, okay?” Davey tried soothing the boy as he gripped his shoulders and tried to ground him but Albert just shook his head.

“N-n-no, that’s not-t...th-that’s no-“

“Shh, shh, just breathe. Just focus on breathing right now, yeah? You can try and talk to me about it later, but for now just breathe,” Davey coaxed, easing the boy down until he could see his friend relax a little.

“Th-that’s...not...my...best...friend,” he breathed, his tears beginning to fall from his tired eyes. “It-it can’t be, I don’t...”

All the two could do was hold him and hope that maybe, just maybe, he would be okay soon. They had no way of knowing anything, but even if they did get Jack and Race back soon, there was no telling how they would change.

“You again.”

Snyder’s deep, brooding voice woke the two boys with a start as they both shot up, Jack suddenly very relieved to have placed himself in front of the other boy.

The man sauntered towards them, reaching for Jack and lifting him up by the collar of his shirt. Jack reached at him, fists swinging left and right, but none with any real power.

“I thought ya’ learned your lesson tha’ first time I snatched ya’ little friend,” the man hissed, his saliva spraying in Jack’s face as he squeezed his eyes shut tight.

“Yeah, I did,” he spat back. “N’ ya’ ain’t layin’ anotha’ hand on ‘im ever again.”

Snyder laughed curtly, his snide voice bringing a chill to both the boys. Jack cracked open one eye to look past Snyder, slightly relieved to see Skip still fast asleep. In fact, most of the kids seemed to either be still asleep or to know to stay down and pretend that they were.

“You’s just as snarky as I remember ya’, Kelly,” Snyder drawled, tossing the boy back onto the ground, Jack instantly moving himself back against the wall and standing himself up in front of Race. The latter grabbed a fistful of his shirt and held on tight with shaking hands. “Ya’ really thought I wouldn’t find out you’s tryna’ break out? In case ya’ didn’t notice, I’s got it barred up now. It ain’t gonna’ be easy like last time, kid.”

Jack gulped, steadying himself back on his feet as he retained his composure, not letting his anger waver.

“We ain’t tryna’ get out, he jus’ needed some air. Ya’ see, my friend ‘ere, his chest’s got real infected n’ he jus’ needed to get some air so’s he don’t get sick,” Jack smirked, proud of how the response seemed to baffle the man.

“Right, n’ I’s s’pposed ta’ believe ya’?” Snyder huffed comedically, stepping to the side as he attempted to step around Jack, stopping when the boy moved to cover his friend immediately.

“You won’t touch him again,” Jack countered, not wavering for a second as he stood his ground. He stood as still as he could manage, carefully calculating exactly what to do in his head as dozens of situations filled his mind.

“Ahh, ya’ see, Jack,” he spoke calmly, simply casting the boy aside as Jack swung at him. “That’s why you’s in ‘ere n’ I’s out there. I can do whateva’ I want wit’ you two. So, you’s gonna’ step aside n’ let me do what I need ta’ do, n’ then you’s gonna’ cooperate when it’s your turn.”

Jack only backed up even further. He wouldn’t budge left or right as he held his hands in fists at his sides. “No.”

Snyder rolled his eyes and glared back at the boy. He took one step towards Jack and gripped the boy by his wrists as Jack swung his fists at Snyder’s head. Fear was pulsing through his veins, but all it took was a sweep at his legs and Snyder socked his head into the concrete floor. Jack was out like a light.

Race screamed, as much as his voice would let him, as Snyder grabbed him. The man held his back to his chest with his arms locked tightly around the boy’s stomach. Race squirmed, kicked, and flailed; anything that might give him a chance at getting away from the man, but to no avail.

He screamed for his friend, never taking his eyes off Jack’s crumpled form, and only giving up when the door slammed shut in his face, with Race and Snyder on the outside.

His throat wracked with sobs and coughs as he was dragged down a hallway of closed doors. He shut his eyes tight, focusing on anything but the sound of the man’s work boots squeaking on the floor, but suddenly Snyder stopped at an open door.

The next thing he knew, Race felt a kick to his back and he fell to the ground. His head smacked against the unforgiving concrete floor and he finally found a way to stop crying.

When Jack finally opened his eyes again, he was faced with a tiny room, long and narrow, with nothing but the light from a window high above and behind him to fill the space. He shifted on his knees to get a better look, but froze as he felt the shackles around his wrists. His heart sank as he realized just how screwed he really was.

He was alone, he couldn’t move, and all he could see were claustrophobically close walls and a door that felt too far away, yet too close all the same. His voice was hoarse as he cleared his throat, panic rising in his chest as he tugged at his wrists behind his back, pounding the restraints against the brick wall in an attempt to make them at least looser.

He let out a string of curses as he felt the cold metal cutting and bruising into his skin, but he couldn’t stop. Tears were rolling down his cheeks and he could hear them splattering on the ground, but he didn’t stop. The clanging metal was the only constant comfort he had at that moment.

Jack was out of options. He couldn’t get out this time, he was sure of it. He would die in that room and no one would ever know.

Hell, Race probably would too and he would never find out. In all reality, he could already be dead, but there was no way to know.

He felt sick to his stomach just thinking about it, but with hardly any food in it, his nausea just lingered.

He sat back against the wall, leaning his head against the harsh brick, and looked up at the small window above him. No bars. Just a window right above his head.

It was almost too easy.

It was more than big enough for him to fit through and the refuge building wasn’t very tall even though they were on the second floor, and if he just stood up and opened it, he could be free. Simple as that.

But he couldn’t stand up. The restraints around his wrists were far too short to even come close to a standing position.

It was like torture looking up at what was almost the perfect escape.

He pulled his knees into his chest, rested his forehead against them, and finally let himself cry.

Race wasn’t really sure if he was alive, to be honest. He was stuck in almost complete darkness and his head felt so dizzy he couldn’t even be sure if it was dark, or if he just couldn’t see.

His body ached so much he could hardly move, but he still felt…alive? Honestly, he wasn’t sure. It was freezing cold and, as he shifted around a little, he felt concrete beneath him. Right. The refuge.

He groaned, rolling onto his side as he pressed himself up with his minimal arm strength. He shifted into something that resembled a sitting position as he tried to blink himself into some sort of night-vision state.

“Jack…?” He croaked, instantly embarrassed by the sound of his groggy voice.

Silence. He wasn’t sure how big the room he was in was, but maybe he was just farther away.

“Jack?” He called a little louder that time. Still nothing. He shakily stretched out his arms and legs, trying to gauge the size of the room a little.

He couldn’t feel anything at least within arms reach, but by the way he heard his own voice, he was sure it wasn’t a very large room.

He went silent, hoping maybe there would be something he could hear that could tell him where he was, but there was nothing but dead silence.

“Jack?” He could hear the cracks in his voice as he pleaded, but still, no response came. “Jackie, please! Please, I…I’s scared Jack.”

He cried, curling himself up into a ball to the best of his ability. His chest was killing him, he could feel it. It hurt just at the faintest touch and still, after what he knew was at least three days, hadn’t scabbed over. It never seemed to stop bleeding, and if he didn’t know better than to waste his energy on what would ultimately be hopeless, he would try to repair the tourniquet Jack had made him. But he knew better.

At that point, he didn’t want to stall anything he already knew was coming to him.

Skip woke up that morning like any other. She poked the feet hanging off the bunk above her own and climbed off the thin mattress.

The window ledge was empty. She remembered her new friends had been sitting there when she had gone to bed, but when she saw the vacant ledge, she assumed that they had moved to sleep somewhere more comfortable.

She wandered around the room, glancing at every bunk, but the boys were nowhere to be found.

“Ey’, Blues!” You seen Jack?” She asked, jostling the shoulder of a kid sitting near her and picking at the laces on his shoes.

“Jack? Nah’, I ain’t Neva’ heard of ‘im,” Blues answered, only looking up at skip for a second before going back to picking at his laces.

Skip sighed, flopping down beside her friend dramatically.

“Oh c’mon! Pro’lly tha’ oldest guy ‘ere, brown hair. I think he’s got a blue shirt or somethin’,” Skip rambled as the kid seemed to understand.

“Aw, yeah! I’s seen that guy! He’s gone now, though.”

Skip looked dumbfoundedly at the boy.

“Whaddya’ mean he’s gone?” Jack and Race wouldn’t just leave her, would they? They…she didn’t think they would. “He’s…he’s really gone.” She asked shyly.

“Yeah, he n’ that otha’ kid. Snyda’ came n’ took ‘em this mornin’. They ain’t come back yet,” Blues finished, clearly not as concerned as the girl was as she sprang up and marched over to the main room door.

She huffed, taking a deep breath and gathering up every single ounce of courage she had left. She pounded on the door with both fists, rattling the cold metal and echoing throughout the room. The entire space full of kids all snapped their attention to her, but she didn’t flinch.

She stood as tall as she could, holding her breath as she heard approaching footsteps and the faint jingle of a ring of keys. She gulped, stepping back away from where the door would swing, and stood her ground.

Snyder creaked open the door, a frustrated look on his face, and Skip felt the possibilities filling her head. It had likely only been a few hours since he had taken their friends, but clearly, he hadn’t thought to change his clothes. There was a darkening red smear of blood across his shoulder and Skip felt sick to her stomach just looking at it.

“Where are they?” She bellowed fiercely, anger coursing through her veins. “What did you do to them?”

Snyder smirked, sauntering into the room and crossing his arms as he stood before the little girl.

“Ahh, Amelia,” he chided. Skip felt her blood boil at the name.

For the longest time, only her parents and older relatives would call her Amelia. She hated the name, always had, but it was her name and there wasn’t any way around it. That is, until her older brother started calling her Millie. She adored it, mostly because her brother, William, had given it to her, but they were as close as close could be and he quickly adopted the name ‘Willie’ to her ‘Millie’. They were never allowed to use those names, but the kids did in secret, knowing neither of them liked their given names.

When Amelia Crawford lost her brother, Millie died with him.

“Don’t call me that,” she spat, interrupting the man who let out a quick chuckle as he rolled his eyes.

“N’ what would ya’ like me ta’ call ya’ then, sweetheart?” There was nothing understanding about his tone. He was cruel and sarcastic and Skip knew he wouldn’t take her seriously, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

“Skip,” she spoke firmly. Snyder sighed, exasperated by what he viewed as childish games, and placed a hand on her back, leading her through the door.

Skip immediately shoved him away, stepping away from the man and folding her arms around her torso.

“Don’ touch me,” she hissed, speeding up her steps to stand a more comfortable distance.

“Amelia, darling, don’ you know I’d never hurt ya’?” His voice was snide and gave the girl chills, but she refused to respond.

The funny thing was that she did know he wouldn’t hurt her. She had been in the refuge for a few months at that point and she was the only one there that Snyder had never laid a hand on. She was always given her food and water rations first and Snyder even announced to the other kids that she would be allowed priority to use the small bathroom in the main room whenever she needed. It took her a while to understand why, but one night as she and a few other kids were out in the hallway doing their chores, she overheard the man and one of his guards discussing something. She stood outside his office listening in and it only took a few seconds for her to discover that they were talking about her. Or, more accurately, her parents.

The Crawford family was one of the richest in the city. They owned multiple of New York’s largest trading ships and were practically famous as far as local standings went.

The Crawfords had two children, William and Amelia, who were rarely known to the public for they were kept inside the family’s lavish apartment almost exclusively. The public heard stories from every newspaper in the city when both children were born, but hardly anyone had ever seen the brother and sister.

Over years and years of neglect and aversion from their parents, William fell sick and his parents simply couldn’t be bothered to waste their money on his medical attention. They had plenty, more than most could ever dream of, yet not enough to get their son decent medical services. They told the children and their series of nannies, butlers, and maids that it was nothing, and that he would likely be fine in a week or so. They never said a word about all of the telltale signs of polio.

Amelia Crawford lost her brother when she was barely nine years old. Afterwards, she didn’t even last a month in that house before she ran away.

She was trying to get some food when he found her. A kind old woman had been taking a stale loaf of bread out to the garbage on the curb and she had simply asked if she could have it since the woman didn’t want it. There was no harm done, even the woman agreed and even offered the little girl a chance to come inside for a while, but she was stopped in her tracks by a man grabbing her arm from behind.

She had been too focused on trying to get away to hear what the man had been telling the old woman, but she could make out a few words.

Runaway. Thief. Criminal.

She wasn’t any of those things…was she? No, she didn’t think so, at least.

So as the man took her away, she watched the old woman head back inside her house after she simply tossed the bread to a group of pigeons on the sidewalk.

Amelia Crawford ended up in the refuge just like dozens of kids before her had, but she stayed for a completely different reason.

The moment the man brought her in, she gave them her name when she was asked for it and that was the first time she met Snyder. He sat her down in his office, asked her about her family, and promised her he would keep her safe.

It had taken a few weeks for her to find out what he was really doing.

She was a ploy. A hostage being held for ransom, basically. For whatever reason, Snyder and his men were convinced that if the Crawfords found out that he had their daughter, they would pass up some large sum of money to get her back. The problem was, they had no idea how little Skip’s parents cared about their children.

So she gave up hope that she was ever getting out of the refuge. That is, she did until she met Jack, but now he was gone and so was Race.

Still, she held her head high as she followed Snyder out of the main room. She already lost one brother and there was no way in hell she was going to lose two more.

Jack was lost. Not lost lost, he knew exactly where he was, but he had no idea what he was doing. At that point, he had no clue what day it was, how long he had been alone, or anything other than there was still light shining through his window. Either he had only been there a few hours or it could’ve been a whole new day. He couldn’t decide which one would be worse.

He sat up properly, adjusting his arms as much as he could as they stayed behind his back, but he stretched his legs out as far as they could go.

Plenty of room to spare.

For the first time, he was grateful that the room was so goddamn small.

He kicked at the wall as hard as he possibly could, but nothing happened other than the faint echo of the smack through the next room over. Nothing.

Well, at least he knew the room to his right was slightly bigger than his own.

And hopefully empty.

He did the same on his left, kicking at the wall with all his strength as he waited, hoping and praying for any sort of response. Just as he was about to curl back up against the wall and accept defeat, he heard a kick back.

It made him jump, both from the unexpectedness of it, and the fact that is was so loud from the lack of echo.

“Race?” He practically sprung up and slid as close to the wall as he could get.

Nothing. He knocked lightly on the brick, stinging his knuckles, but the pain didn’t matter to him much at all.

“Racer, is that you?” He kept thinking Snyder would burst through the door and just laugh in his face, but no one came. No one burst through the door to bind his feet too and tell him to give up because his friend was dead and there was no way he was ever getting out of there again.

But then he heard it.

“Jack?” A very, very faint voice that Jack was sure he wouldn’t have heard if he wasn’t as close to the wall as he was, but he could feel the relief flood over him. “Jack, ’s that you?”

He swore the weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders. He didn’t care that he was trapped, he didn’t care that he probably hadn’t eaten in ages, and he didn’t care that he was probably never getting out of there.

He finally had something to hold on to.

“Race, oh my god it’s me. I’s here. I’s right here,” he rambled breathlessly. Dragging himself as close to the wall as he practically could. His arms were dragged straight back behind him, his wrists burning with pain, but none of that seemed to bother him.

He took a breath, still in disbelief that he wasn’t alone. Race was here. Was was still here. He was alive. He was alive and right on the other side of the wall and Jack felt like he could finally breathe again.

“I…I’s so sorry, Antonio,” he sniffled, not bothering to try to wipe his face as he watched the puddle of tears beneath his face get bigger and bigger. “I’s so sorry, I dragged ya’ into’ this whole mess wit’ tha’ strike n’ everythin’, n’ now you’s stuck up in ‘ere wit’ me n’ I’s sorry but I don’t think I can keep thinkin’ we’s gonna’ get outta’ this place.”

Jack sat through silence for a few moments, nothing but the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.

“I know,” Race’s quiet voice spoke up after what felt like the longest comfortable silence they could bear. “As long as you’s here, that’s okay wit’ me, Jackie.”

Skip was mad. All Snyder had done was take her back to his office where she had signed in all those months ago. He was sitting in front of her, simply flipping through paperwork while Skip sat in an old wooden chair, shifting in her seat to make the wood creak.

“Please, jus’ tell me where ya’ took ‘em!” She burst out, tired of sitting in silence. “I don’ wanna’ do this anymore, jus’ tell me!”

Snyder sighed and pulled out a single folder from the bundle he had and laid it down on the desk between them.

“Amelia, darling, I’s goin’ ta’ tell ya’ about somethin’ ya’ proudly don’t wanna’ know. That Jack Kelly you’s taken so well to…well, jus’ read up,” the man spoke, standing and dropping the file into her lap. Skip opened it tentatively, seeing the boy’s name scrawled right across the top.

‘Jack Kelly. 17 years old.’

Her brown eyes skimmed over the page, widening at the list of offense after offense. Stealing, loitering, trespassing, breaking and entering, and more things Skip had never even heard of before.

This…this couldn’t be Jack. At least not the same Jack she knew. The Jack she knew slept on the floor while Skip took his place on the mattress. The Jack she knew would stand up to Snyder for any of the kids in this place without a second of hesitation. The Jack she knew wasn’t a criminal. There was no way.

“Where is he?” She screamed, tossing the file onto the ground and standing up to face the man.

Snyder sneered, his crooked yellow teeth filling her stomach with disgust.

“What, you wanna’ join ‘im? I’m sure I’s got an extra set a’ chains ‘round ‘ere somewhere,” he said, Skip’s blood running cold as her jaw dropped a little.

“N-no, I…I don’-“

“Just as I thought,” he growled, circling the desk to stand behind the girl and in front of the door. “Now, I’s got some boys to check in on, so’s you better hurry your pretty little head back in tha’ main room, yeah?”

Skip chewed on her lip, contemplating her options before she stood up and left without another word.

The walk down the corridor was almost otherworldly as she creaked open the main door and a whole room full of kids snapped their heads up to her. There were few strangers to the fact that Snyder had never hurt Skip in the near-six months that she had been in the refuge. Most kids would stand up for themselves enough to receive a beating in at least the first week, but Skip never did. She had the attitude of anyone else that had ever been in there, but no matter what she did, Snyder would never lay a hand on her.

So when she returned to the room after standing up to the man yet again without a single scratch, the collective group quickly returned to what they were doing. Skip crossed the room back to the window ledge, pressing her legs up on the wall as she leaned her head against the bars, watching the fire escape carefully. The slow cycle of people walking down the street was almost mesmerizing as she stared in complete silence for ages.

It was almost midway through the day when she felt the window start rattling. The sound of creaking and shaking metal broke her from her trance-like fascination and Skip was anxiously backing off the window ledge. She could see someone climbing carefully up the stairs, but she ducked behind the adjacent wall before she could tell who it was.

What if it was Jack? What if he broke out? What if he was coming back to get her? What if he came to rescue her?

The thought seemed almost too good to be true, but she let herself hope for the best as she heard the sliding of fabric against the metal grate flooring. A few taps on the window and she peeked her head around the corner, already fantasizing about who else it could be.

But this was someone she definitely didn’t know. He had short, dark hair that curled around the edges of his cap. A faded red shirt with the sleeves cut off covered his tan body and worn gray suspenders ran across his chest. Everything about him was screaming ‘bad’ but Skip took one look at his face and saw something completely different.

She took her seat back on the window ledge, working from the inside as the boy began to open the window. His dark brown eyes had bags around them, the lack of sleep blatantly displayed in his features, but Skip simply stared.

“Whaddya’ want, kid?” The boy grumbled, sighing heavily as he looked past her into the room.

“Well uh,” she stammered, unsure of what to do without her friends behind her. “Are ya’…are ya’ here for Jack?”

The boy shifted a little, an unsure smirk on his lips.

“Yeah, sure. Somethin’ like that,” he chuckled dryly. “Jus’ have ‘em come ‘ere, will ya?”

“Oh, uh, they ain’t ‘ere anymore,” she mumbled, afraid to meet his eyes after everything that Snyder had said.

The boy seemed to take great offense to that, rolling his eyes and gripping the bars over the window as his eyes searched the room.

“Answer me, kid,” he whispered, his voice hushed yet still carrying every ounce of fear the Skip felt prick her skin. “Where’d they go? Where’s Race?”

She felt her breath hitch as she shrunk back a little.

“He, um…he n’ Jack…Snyder took ‘em. He took ‘em away somewhere, but I dunno’ where,” Skip shuddered, her own anxiety spilling out. “They’s been gone all mornin’! I-I tried ta’ get ‘im ta’ tell me where they was, but I jus’ sent me back!”

The boy stared down at his hands for a long time. He picked at some dried blood on his knuckles and Skip was sure she heard a little sniffle.

“Are…are ya’ okay?” She spoke softly, assuming this guy was at least a friend of Race’s, if not Jack’s too. She could probably trust him. Hopefully.

The guy quickly brushed his face, sniffling some more before he sat up again, blinking away his red eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’ worry ‘bout me, kid,” he answered simply. “My, uh…my name’s Spot. I…I’s gonna’ help ya’.”

Skip smiled a little at that. At least someone here was brave enough to do something for once.

“Good,” she finished. “I head Jack tellin’ they’s otha’ friends yesterday that he thinks Race ain’t got much time left ’fore things get real bad, so’s we better’ get on it!”

The words didn’t seem to phase her much, almost as if she didn’t understand the darkness of the things she had just said.

“H-he…what?” Spot’s tone was entirely different. He was terrified as Skip looked back at him. His face went pale and his lip quivered and she instantly panicked. Had she said the wrong thing? She was just telling Spot exactly what Jack had told their other friends.

“Yeah, he’s, uh, been real sick accordin’ ta’ Jack,” she explained, watching as she just seemed to make things worse and worse.

Spot seemed to be panicking even worse than she was.

“Wha-fuck, uh, what’s ya’ name, kid?” He stumbled over his words, shaking like a leaf as his knuckles turned white from gripping the bars so tightly.

“Skip,” she mumbled quietly, confusion, fear, and anger all swirling through her head.

“Right, okay Skip, here’s what we’s gonna’ do,” he started. “I’s gonna get a coupla’ my guy ta’ steal some tools. We’s gonna’ start pryin’ off these here bars. As soon as we’s got the bars off, I’s gonna’ sneak in n’ we’s gonna’ break ‘em out, n’ then-“

“No!” Skip burst out, starling Spot slightly. “No, I…I tried that. He checks tha’ window every night when he puts everybody ta’ bed. He’d find out too easy, we’s gotta’ do it from tha’ inside.”

Spot did not look very pleased with that idea.

“Nah, there’s gotta’ be some otha’ way, I can’t jus’ leave ‘im, I can’t-“ He stopped, a pained sound breaking through his stream of consciousness speech with something that sounded so, so terrified. “Fuck this, I’s gonna’ get ‘im out, I need ta’ get in ‘ere. I’s jus’ gonna’ get myself caught n’ bust ‘im out.”

He turned towards the fire escape stairs, but Skip launched her hand through the bars, grabbing the boy’s wrist.

“Wait! Jus’…wait, please. I…I think I's got an idea how we's can do this.”

Keeping track of time in complete darkness was proving to be increasingly difficult. Race wasn't sure just how long he had been alone, but he hoped it wasn't long. Without any light, it was hard to keep his eyes open, and the mind-numbing aches throughout his body didn't help much either. He was in and out of sleep every few minutes.

He hoped Jack wouldn't do what he did. He had tried to be the hero for Crutchie and look where that got him.

Not that he regretted it! He'd take this position for any of his brothers, but if anything happened to him, he knew the guilt would eat that boy alive. He knew it would ruin Jack. He knew how badly it would destroy him if Jack ever had a chance at getting out of there without him. Still, he probably wouldn't even take it if he did.

And poor Albert. God, he had yelled at Race as he dove after the bulls. He told Race it would be a bad idea. That Crutchie knew his way out of the refuge and he'd be fine, but Race didn't listen. Race never listened.

And Fuck, if he never saw Spot again...there wasn't a single kid in Manhattan that would feel more guilty. He knew the guilt of not joining the strike would tear Spot apart, no matter how much good it did for his borough. He wouldn't care. For fuck's sake, he told Race he loved him.

He loved him.

It was unreal. Spot Conlon, the boy who Albert warned him would probably throw him off the Brooklyn Bridge the first time they 'went out' together. Spot Conlon, the boy with the unsurmountable fortress around his heart that not a single person had been able to break since he was a kid. Spot Conlon, who led the borough with the highest rate of new kids brought off the streets per month. Spot Conlon, who let Race sell on his turf for years just so they could go to the Sheepshead afterwards.

Hell, even Race felt a little bit guilty for getting himself caught. It was his fault for letting himself get close to people. If he just sold his papes and kept his mouth shut, there wouldn't be a single person to worry about. He would be sitting in that cell without a single fear of how the outside world would take it.

But none of that felt as good as seeing the smiles on his friends' faces. None of that felt like the blossoming pride of the day Jack asked him to be his second in command. Nothing was as sweet as the young nights comparing freckles with Crutchie's, trying to deduce who had more. Nothing would ever make him smile the way his and Albert's never-ending banter did. And nothing, nothing, would ever compare to those three words that Spot uttered that first night.

Those three words that filled his heart with weak hope as he drifted off to sleep again.

Jack wasn't sure what he could do. Race had stopped talking what felt like ages ago. He was alone. With no one to talk to, it was almost like the seriousness of the situation started to become real.

It was real. He was in the refuge again. Race was in the refuge. They were there together...and now they weren't.

It couldn't be real. He refused to accept that that boy was dead. It was horrible to keep telling himself something that he was almost sure, deep down, wasn't true. Race was gone and it would be real the second Snyder opened the door at the end of the room.

So he waited. He wasn't sure if he just wanted to get it over with or if he was hoping Snyder would kill him too, but the moment that door finally opened, he knew that definitely wasn't what he was expecting.

When Snyder came back, Skip had everything planned out. She wasn't sure why she trusted this Spot guy so much, but she definitely couldn't do this on her own, so right now he was her only option.

He would be back to deliver breakfast first thing in the morning and likely take a kid or two with him. She knew she was probably on thin ice after the day before, but honestly, she didn't care. She would fight tooth and nail if it meant she got out of that room. It was the only way.

So, as the huge metal door creaked open that morning, she was flying off the bed and up to meet the man. She plastered the most furious look she could muster on her face and waited until after he set out the small platter of rations.

"Ahh, mornin' sweetheart," the man greeted her, making Skip slightly sick to her stomach at the affectionate name.

"I wanna' see Jack," she spat, not wasting a single second. Snyder looked surprised for a moment but then he took in Skip's obvious anger and let a small smile creep onto his disgustingly evil face.

"Oh, do ya'? What, ya' finally ready ta' give 'im a piece a' ya' mind?" Skip nodded, the same deep-set frown still painting her face. Snyder turned, leading her out of the room with a hand on her upper back as she glanced down at the ring of keys on his belt, jingling with every step. She was almost confused when he stopped at one of the rooms down the hallway just outside where she had been seconds ago, but then it hit her. Here. They were right outside the whole time.

Snyder pulled out his keyring, taking off a single key as he handed the rest of the loop to Skip and unlocked the door. She looked through the ring with minimal interest until she saw Jack.

He looked awful. He curled back against the wall as far as he could, squinting and shielding his face from the light coming from the hallway. He was sickly thin, covered in bruises and dirt, and his wrists were wrapped in metal, holding him back against the wall.

She instantly pulled a key off the ring as Snyder closed the door behind them. It was small, no longer than the length of her hand, but the only reason she knew it was this one was the disgusting splotch of dried blood covering it. She knew the man wasn't watching so she rushed to Jack, tucking the key in one of his hands before standing back up.

"Jack, you...ya' lied ta' me," she whimpered, her face showing not a single sign of anything other than excitement and hope. "Ya' said I could trust ya', but...how can I? You's a criminal!"

Jack's face was nothing but confusion.

"I thought I could trust ya', but ya' lied! You's a liar Jack Kelly!" She could feel her smile widening as Jack carefully fiddled with the key in his hands. Skip raised her voice as she kept going, hoping to muffle any sounds of Jack unlocking his restraints. "You's nothin' but a dirty street rat! I can't trust ya' wit' nothin'!"

He kept his arms behind his back, mouthing the word 'one' as he switched to the next chain. The moment he heard the click, Skip just yelled at the top of her lungs in fake frustration. Jack almost burst out laughing, but instead, he gently laid all of the metal pieces back on the ground and wiggled his wrists, the joints cracking and stretching.

"Alright, ya' good kid?" Snyder chuckled, stepping forward to place a hand on the girl's shoulder.

Skip smiled one more time at Jack, nodding at him as she gestured to Snyder with her hand and they were golden.

Jack pressed himself off the ground, jabbing his legs at Snyder's knees and sweeping the man off his feet. The man let out a harsh yell as his back fell hard against the concrete floor, cracking and filling Jack with pride. He didn't care one bit if he broke that man's back just then. Nothing could possibly compare to the pain he had put dozens and dozens of innocent kids through for decades.

So the two kids were on the run, slamming the door shut behind them with Snyder inside and they were finally free. Skip tossed the keyring to Jack as the boy frantically worked away at the room right beside his. He was half a dozen different keys in when the lock finally clicked and he froze. God, he didn't know what he'd do if he opened that door and saw something he knew he wouldn't be able to handle.

"Jack...?" Skip stood beside the boy, watching him carefully as his hand hovered above the doorknob. His fingers were shaking as they slowly curled around the metal. "Jack, he's gonna' be okay, we jus' gotta' get outta' 'ere."

Jack seemed to shake off whatever thoughts he was entranced in and flung open the door.

And there he was.

Race was curled up on the floor, his back to Jack and Skip, and he looked so impossibly small for a kid as tall as he was. Jack practically flung himself onto the ground, sliding on his knees to situate himself beside the boy as he quickly rolled him over onto his back. Jack felt so incredibly sick just looking at him.

His cheeks were hollow, much like Jack's own, and the chain of bruises that never seemed to end only seemed to get darker and darker. His eyes were closed softly and his lips were barely parted, but the chapped skin was bleeding in places and he couldn't even bring himself to look down at the boy's chest. Jack raised a trembling hand to the boy's neck, pressing his fingers gingerly to find a pulse, but he could barely keep his hands long enough to tell the difference between the boy's pulse or Jack's own pounding heartbeat.

Still, he held his breath for just as second and a faint string of beats pounded through his fingers. Jack, for once in his life, didn't try to hold back his tears.

"C'mon kid," he whispered, a relieved smile covering his face as tears streamed across his lips. "C'mon Racer, we's gettin' out a' here."

Race still didn't stir. Jack shook him by the shoulders just slightly. His head lolled from side to side. Jack thought he might throw up.

He choked out another sob. "C'mon Higgins, I know you's still wit' me, I know you's still got it in ya', jus' please."

Skip carefully took all of the keys off the keyring, tossing the loop to the ground as she slid them all into her pocket. She would leave the boys be as she did one last thing.

Jack felt like he was in limbo. They were so close to getting out, there was nothing left stopping them, but then...then there was. Sure, he could just scoop Race up no problem and carry him out of there, but he knew Race wanted this just as fiercely as he did. He knew that boy would've wanted to see them walk out of there together. To do the impossible.

He at least had to keep trying.

"Antonio I swear, I ain't leavin' unless you's leavin' wit' me. We's gonna' walk outta' those there doors together, me n' you's. We's gonna' do it jus' like you said, but ya' gotta' wake up, kid," he mumbled, brushing some of the boy's hair out of his face. He just wanted his baby brother to be okay. "Race, please, jus' do somethin'. Jus' open ya' eyes or somethin', jus' let me know you's okay, please."

And he did. Slowly but surely, Race pried his eyes open to look up at Jack hovering above him and there was the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

"I's dead, right?" A groggy and hoarse voice whispered, and Jack had to bite back a laugh. he buried his face in his hands, thanking every possible divinity before sliding his arms around the boy's shoulders and knees as he lifted him gently and held him to his chest. They were okay. They were getting out of there and they were going to be okay.

"Nah, not quite, kid," Jack sighed, taking a second to breathe as he finally looked around him. Two tiny rooms, one with light, one with chains, and one little girl that somehow found a way to do what they had given up trying to do.

Race sighed, shifting a little in Jack's hold, but gripped onto the boy's shirt with one hand. "Good."

The left the room, Race shielding his eyes in Jack's shoulder as they slowly adjusted to seeing light again. Jack followed the hallway until he saw Skip standing outside the cell Jack had been locked in. There was a tiny piece of paper in her hands and she could barely take her eyes off of it.

"Hey, Skipper, ya' ready ta' go?" Jack asked softly, giving the girl a small smile of reassurance.

She nodded, tucking the paper into her pocket. "Yeah, I already let tha' rest a' tha' kids out. I jus' wanted ta' grab one last thing."

Jack nodded, shifting Race in his arms so the boy latched his legs around Jack's waist and held on with his arms around his neck.

"Good. C'mon, let's get outta' 'ere, shall we?" Skip beamed to match Jack's grin and she stood to leave when the door swung open again.

Snyder lunged, still not standing, but he grabbed the back of Skip's shirt and she screamed. Jack froze, tightening his grip on Race as he turned around and stood his ground.

"Get ya' hands off a' her," he spat, feeling the pride bubbling in his stomach from how fiercely he had sworn to protect the boy curled up in his arms. Race was his little brother, and after all the things she had done for the two of them, Skip was a better little sister than he could've possibly asked for. "You let 'er go n' we ain't gonna' call tha' bulls. Jus' let go n' we leave quietly. Won't even tell a soul what ya' did, we's jus' gonna' go."

But Snyder only yanked once more, pulling the girl back as she fell.

Jack knew he had three options. He could run, get Race and himself out of there as fast as he could and never look back. He could let Race down against the wall, get Skip back, and hope that even one of them would make it out alive.

Or he could find a way to get everything he wanted.

"Race, can ya' stand if I promise it won't be long?" He whispered into the boy's ear, feeling the nod against his shoulder as confirmation as he gently let Race's feet hit the ground. He steadied himself on the wall beside him and nodded to Jack that he was okay.

Jack, however, was already on his way to get that girl back.

"I tried ta' get ya' outta' this tha' easy way. My offer still stands if ya' jus' let 'er go, but I ain't afraid ta' give ya' what I's been wantin' ta do since ya' first threw me in 'ere when I was seven. I ain't afraid a you's anymore, old man," he admitted, a confident smile tugging at his lips as he saw Skip's terrified face brighten.

But the man didn't budge.

"I need 'er," he slurred, likely still delirious from when Jack knocked him out not even half an hour ago. "I neva' even hurt 'er."

Jack scoffed, kicking the man in the stomach to see if he might let go, but he simply took Skip by the wrist instead. She winced as he tightened his grip, surely leaving what would soon become a quite painful bruise.

He glanced down at his own wrists, still bloody and bruised themselves, and kicked again.

"Why? What tha' hell makes ya' think I's gonna' leave 'er here wit' you's?" Jack hissed, continuing his kicks across the man's body. "She don't deserve ta' be stuck 'ere forever! None a' them kids do!"

But Snyder only exhaled shakily, clutching the girl tighter.

"She's got parents. They's one a' tha' richest in tha' city," he spat, staring daggers at the boy. "Tha' only reason I ain't neva' hurt 'er is 'cause I's expectin' a hefty reward if they's eva' gonna' want they's little baby girl back."

Skip had tears running down her cheeks and Jack was ready to just knock that man right out again, but he couldn't risk him hurting Skip before Jack could even do it.

"Well maybe they's don't even want me back!"

Skip's wail echoed through the hallway. She refused to meet Jack's eyes, sniffling as her tears collected in a puddle on the ground below her face.

"Maybe...tha' whole reason I left 's 'cause they don't even want me," she whimpered, wiping her eyes with her free hand. "They didn't want me when they Will instead, n' afta' they lost him, they wanted me even less. He's tha' one they wanted. Or...I guess I thought they wanted."

Skip took a shaky breath, sniffling slightly.

"They ain't gonna' pay you nothin'. I don't need them anymore," she smiled weakly, looking up at Jack. "'N they don't need me."

Just when Jack was ready to let all hell break loose, the main doors burst open and he couldn't believe his eyes.

Spot Conlon, leading a whole gang of Brooklyn kids, burst through the door with fists flying left and right until Jack looked up and Snyder was gone, the cell was being locked shut, and Spot held Skip tightly on his hip. His eyes, however, were locked on Race's. The taller boy was wobbling on his feet and Jack was afraid he was about to collapse at any second.

"Get 'im. I got tha' girl, jus' don't lose him," Spot spoke with a sort of steely assertion, but Jack could still hear the fear in his voice. He nodded, carefully throwing one of Race's arms over his shoulders as he held him by the waist, keeping as much weight off of the boy's own legs as he could.

"Jus' hold on, kid. We's gettin' out. We's almost there, jus' hold on a little longer," Jack spoke in a shaky whisper, his eyes watering. Race replied with a disapproving murmur as he shook his head gently against Jack's arm. "I know it hurts, Racer. I know you's tired, but jus' keep goin' for me, please. Do it to say we made it outta' here when we all thought it was gonna' be impossible. Make it outta' here jus' ta' say you's strong enough ta' do it, because I know you are. You's tha' strongest goddamn kid I's ever known Antonio Higgins n' I ain't leavin' 'ere unless ya' do it wit' me, okay?"

Race looked up, his drooping eyelids being held open so painstakingly as he let small tears flow, and nodded. He smiled in a way that was so small and so pained that Jack knew it wasn't real yet, but as they stood in that doorway and started down those steps, he saw the dimples deepen on his cheeks and he saw that boy smile for real as they hobbled out the front doors of the refuge, together or not at all.

[overbakedone]

1

this is the first time i've ever started writing my thoughts and feelings anywhere before. this is not easy.

instead of writing things and then deleting it all because its not good enough or it sounds stupid i'm just going to write it now and stop backspacing. i guess i should start with where i am in life right now so there is some perspective.

im 25, im a bakers apprentice, i live with my parents, i have a girlfriend, lets call her ‘C’ who for the first time feels right to me despite everything, i barely have any friends, they don't ever want to see me, i don't have much time in my life right now, i work all night and struggle to fit sleep into my schedule. but things are really the best they have ever been for me. i just started an AFL 9′s competition, weird i usually have no confidence going into these things and will either quit after the first practice or not even show up, i really kinda enjoyed it and am excited for next week.

i've wanted to start writing anything for a few months now, i guess now i have some time. time is so fucked up, i wish there was more of it, i wish i could sleep without wasting my day, i wish i didn't have to compromise sleep for everything but i do, i guess its part of being a baker, its a job i am loving and i think i've found my life passion but it has its ups and downs. my partner C expects a lot of my time i guess, she can be very needy at times, demanding almost, sometimes i feel pressured by her to sacrifice my sleep, personal plans and hobbies and interests for her, but i know what she feels, she wants the same thing i do. she has problems making friends, or keeping friends, she feels isolated and alone, and she wants my companionship, and i want that too and despite anything i feel in the moment i always feel happy about her at the end of the day.

i should be grateful for the relationship i am in right now, i really should be grateful for a lot of stuff, my parents for allowing me to stay here still, being so supportive and also allowing and accepting of me and really tolerant of the shit i do. ok so i do smoke week every day right so that's already something to do at home that's difficult, i'm pretty sure they know and don't care or even agree that my life has been better since i started smoking, fuck i used to be on antidepressants, i took one every day at a certain time, it made me feel a bit better, ok sounds just like smoking right, expect when i didn't take this pill i got nausea, headaches, severe episodes of depression, i couldn't eat my appetite was so fucked up i was eating one meal a day and it was like a piece of bread or takeaway food. since the smoking started i've found some actual passion in life, i don't feel like a useless number anymore i guess.

one of the things on my mind always is my friends, since i was in highschool i havent really had a group of friends, i feel like i am a social person but then when it comes to it i feel like i just get burned. a lot of my old friends turned out to be secretly hating me and not wanting me around, some sort of pity friendship, i was an asshole in my time and honestly was not a good friend myself, do you pay for the dumb shit you do as a teenager, the people you fuck over go from your life completely yet new people you meet do the same things to you like they know. i had/have a long term best friend, J, we had been mates for years, we worked at my old job dominoes together for a bit, and kinda hung out a few times, but not until we got into PC gaming together did we form a bond. after that we would chat every day, play games together, watch the footy together, go places even though he lived across the city from me. one thing that changed massively in my life was i quit drinking alcohol, and then i felt like all my friends both disagree with my choice and resent me for it, like for some reason i have to take the same drugs they are taking at that time to be their friends. so J has just grown more and more distant, i get that we are older now, we both have partners, jobs that take a lot of our time, but then when we hang out or talk he seems disinterested, more interested with his friends that i introduced him to (from our discord server) and has seemingly replaced me, none of these guys i really like at all, in fact the only one of the new group i like is the one girl in it because she actually has interesting things to say.

fuck that was a paragraph, i guess i should talk about alcohol.

alcohol has fucked up my life, i cant repair the mistakes and stupid things i did while drinking alcohol, so they are there, i guess its just talking about it left. to start off, when i drink alcohol i have a hard time finding my limit, i feel like i swing from nothing to completely blacked out, puking, sobbing and basically hating myself very quick, i feel sick for days after drinking, barely able to eat, leave bed, move, i feel so nauseous and tired, its so fucked up what it does to your body, but oh your mind is even worse. i've broken off relationships, cheated, threatened people, gotten into fights, brawls, got my arm broken, hurt myself repeatedly, gotten arrested and a criminal record that may prevent me from going to canada next year, and is currently delaying booking flights, ive missed work, shown up drunk same clothes no shower to work, but the main thing that alcohol does to me is makes me sad. alcohol makes me so fucking sad, it makes me reach into the deepest pits i can think of and brings out all the emotions that are in there, my ex being the main one. every time i used to drink id think of her, call her, text her, go on her facebook, look up her instagram her twitter, fuck it drive my car to her house to see if her cars there like that does anything or means anything just fucking alcohol is so stupid. i never want to feel like that again, i never want to sabotage my life, sabotage and self destruct my relationships, but i guess losing my friends is the thing i have to take in consideration. australia is a fucked up place, where drinking heavily is the social norm and if you don't get fucked up or even have a beer with mates you're a loser.

i just want a deep connection with my friends. when i was in newcastle with my partner, i  met her friends there that she had been living with, despite the fucked up things that happened to her there, she lost a lot of friends herself and a long time friend, had trouble finding new ones, trouble fitting in, the friends she had there were the most honest and truly welcoming, connecting people ive met, and i miss that. i miss having a friend you can just, go over to their place, sit around for 3-4 hours talking shit, laughing, listening to music, relaxing and sharing stories and shit. weird that people can have such an effect on you in a short time. the life i live here is full of making plans, only for them to be cancelled, inviting friends over, for nobody to show up, cancelled plans all the fucking time, i've never been asked to just come over and chill, never its always some group thing that i'm invited to as well. i even try talking to them about this, i told a group of girl friends i have, i miss you all and haven't seen you in so long, we need to have a casual hangout, and the message was almost completely ignored, i asked them all to come to mind to watch the grand final, the house was free, i got a big projector screen, big comfy couch, live central right in the middle of everyone, nobody even replied or brought it up again, yet the second someone else that lives in the far corners of perth brought it up everyone started chatting about their plan to go. so if that's not my friends making it obvious they don't want to see me, they only include me then thats fucked up. i don't know what to say, this happens all the time, my 21st birthday i invited 65 people, and less than 15 people showed up. its hard to keep trying, always trying, i always try to make social events, i always ask friends what they are doing, when they can see me, make plans, they get cancelled, they are busy, they say they're coming then don't show up, most of the time i never hear a word too, they just dont show and don't even apologize, is that a fair thing to do, yeah sometimes i dont go to my friends events, i'm too fucking tired or just don't feel like going, somethings come up, i tell them straight away i cant make it i'm sorry this has come up, yet i don't get the same courtesy.

am i an unlikable person

the guys at work seem to like me, so i started a baking apprenticeship, basically i started watching great british bake off and picked it up as a hobby, making cakes and stuff, actually i should go back. so i used to work in some shitty small software company in the city, 9-5, peak hour traffic, office drama, workplace bullies, understaffed, overworked, red tape and bullshit everywhere, i quit after 2.5 years for mental health reasons, i made a lot of money but had to move on, so i spent a year off , it was only supposed to be a few months, go on a holiday road trip with my then partner, S, she broke up with me via a text message right after eagles lost to melbourne at home, basically the footy game was more disappointing, we had a shit relationship, i think i resented her, i cheated on her, yeah i'm an awful person and deserve everything, she was an emotionally manipulative person, terrified of her own body and sex, tried to dominate my life and change me, im glad we broke up. so i stayed unemployed for a long time, over a year, barely looking, until i found this baking apprenticeship, not only did i apply for the job and write a completely custom cover letter (im so fucking lazy i usually close a job application the second it requires anything more than an apply button) AND i called back a few weeks later when i heard nothing, well turns out that call landed me the job, the apprentice they hired instead of me was useless, had no passion and was a slow worker. so i got the job, and basically have been killing it ever since, i get a lot of praise at work (lots of criticism too) baking is one of those things that takes time, its all about time, so i got a lot to learn but i am actually confident once in my life, holy shit i have a job i like and am good at. is this the dream?> lol 

so today i started writing my feelings down, and its kinda felt good, but i'm exhausted now, and my fingers hurt, so this is the end of my first post, i hope nobody reads it, its really just for me but i don't know. 

thanks for listening   i guess 

[magicgeekponsol-blog]

♛ (for mismatcheddoll. I swear I don't hate you. please don't kill me.)

Taken from meme: [x] ||Accepting|| ((Now why would I hate you for this. My back may be unhappy but i’m perfectly fine. lol))

Makes more sense to put both on one ask answer, yes yes? Third times the charm to answer two urls at once. //sob cry

@mismatcheddoll​ @tsundere-model​ @knights-queen​ (bc of your ask answer is here)

my opinion on;

character in general: Ahhh Mika, what a cute lil thing. So I don’t know too much about him because I don’t actually play Ensemble stars? I only know what I kow from what aoi or Izuzu tell me. lol If I’m remembering correctly, didn’t Shu find Mika in like a box or something? A dumpster? Whatever it was, he was alone. This would probably be a reason why he’s so attached to ‘Oshi-san’? I think he has a complex about his two eyes? Idk if it’s because of Shu or not, but he doesn’t seem to like them very much. 

Obviously he’s also just really... he’s just a meek child, honestly. Still he tries. I know he’s apparently got weak sense of feeling? So stabbing his thumb with a needle was like ‘oh there’s blood’. I know he’s very close to Arashi. I’m very sure I remember a part where it’s like he wanted to make a bouquet or something for Arashi as thanks? I could be wrong, but I swear there was something about that. So pretty much he’s a bit clumsy (I think?) and very awkward but he does try hard. He’s doing his best. He gets scared easily and what not but that’s understandable if you think about how he was introduced. Child probably went through a lot but he still tries to be happy and friendly. A good child. 

how they play them: I believe Izuzu is doing a fabulous job. Poor child makes my cold... dead heart... do a thing called skip a beat. Can’t be mean to him. I have a Spritz bottle on standby for when Ponsol is interacting. I’m warning you dude. You can see how he struggles and is very scared and insecure, but he is very earnest and very very honest to a fault. Even when scared, he will still try to do what’s right. This is Pre-hiatus but Mika, though Shugarl is a scary-ass dude was wondering if they should kiss because they both got caught under the mistletoe like ‘don’t you get bad luck if you don’t?’ Child, worry about yourself, don’t worry about him. He needs bad luck. I meant what? I said nothing. He’s just  a boy who needs guidance and love, that’s all. 

He’s written in a way that you can tell he’s got social and anxiety issues. He isn’t really down played. He’s a loving character and he’s fair. Though Vasco is scary, Mika could see that he’d hurt the guy and honestly could have left it at that, but didn’t. He does what is right. Just an all around ‘good boy’. So If Mika is supposed to be a good boy chara who is supposed to melt your heart with purity and also just all around general pity, then yeah, Izuzu is doing great. //sheds tear for Mika

the mun: Ahhh okay. Let’s do this. //cracks knuckles and stretches back. So I said this in a previous meme wwaaayyyyyyy back when, but Izuzu was the first and only one to answer to Vasco’s very first open starter. One that went ignored for a long while.Discouraged, but otherwise //shruuuuuuug. Izumi was well... Izumi, but I still appreciated the notion. Not too long after that was Monster Madnes, the first event I was a part of. Izuzu wrote up a heavy drabble and it honestly made me fear of Vasco’s life and I was more than willing to get Vasco out of there. lol. Izuzu already knows this, but i’m sure others are curious? I don’t do well with Yandere themes so I was just ‘ABORT MISSION!!!!!’ Though Izumi is pretty... tame for the most part. 

We talked a lot on im and I got to see many characters from her. Some who came and went and some who stayed behind and are here today. I do love interacting with Izuzu. If you have an idea there is a 98% chance she’ll say yes. Actively HC’ing with Izuzu is fun who also is very serious about characters. Izuzu, like myself, connects with her muses. Some more than others. I connect real well with Shugarl while I think Izuzu connects well with Izumi. It always makes for a fun thread experience and it just feels... natural? When Shugarl gets mad, I get mad. lol Now English isn’t her first language. She is learning, but even so she writes pretty well, wouldn’t you think? Perhaps a few minor mistakes here and there, but for the most part she writes well. 

I really like her use of vocabulary and descriptions. That was honestly what drew me to her in the first place. (I don’t think Izuzu knows this. hoh hoh) So we talk a lot about random things all the time. For some reason, idk why, but she really likes Ponsol. Like a lot. So I appreciate that. He used to get real neglected. OTL ALSO SHE KNOWS EYESHIELD 21 SO I CAN USE MY REFERENCES IN THREADS. YAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I guess one word of sorta warning is that Izuzu (like myself) can ramble a lot so threads can get real long... real quick. So if you can’t handle really long threads... exercise caution. Izuzu can certainly go short but longer is so much fun. I so understand. As for reply speed which may be another cause of concern, with a lot of blogs and groups, it’s hard to keep on top of things. If anything, Izuzu has a lot on her plate but still tries hard. I really respect that. 

do i;

follow them: Ye ye

rp with them: Oh yes, clover goodness.

want to rp with them: //chucks clovers at the question.

ship their character with mine: LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL---- SAVE MIKA 2kINFINITY from Ponsol.

what is my;

overall opinion: ((Screw it i’m moving this to next section. This seciton is already so looooong))

my opinion on;

character in general: Did you mean the bratty egotistical shitstick? The one that I ironically love oh so very much? So from what I know, apparently at the start of things, he was just a regular lil dude, but things in Yumenosaki just really changed him with pain and treachery so he became more of a Tsundere. Starts to bully Kohai in order to make sure they become strong. Goes as far as to go to very extreme lengths and it’s like CHILD NO. WTF DUDE?????? //salutes a certain lil megane-boy. 

Still, with the things that went on with Knights and with Leo, you can tell he’s a loyal guy. He may not be the most honest, but he is very loyal. I’ve been told that he’s pretty much an insecure lil thing. He hides this behind his tough persona. He believes himself to be useless, to be a horrible person. Sure, he’s fucked up. He’s done bad things, but he does try to change. He does try to get passed that. He’s at the heart of things, trying to help. He wants to be loved, he wants to be useful. (I hear that he was the untalented one or something during Chess? idk. I don’t know too much of the whole thing but I think that’s what I remember. 

I mean he’s also got some issues with his mom, right? I don’t hear much about the dad so i’m guessing he’s aight. (or dead) He’s pretty complex with his personality and his complexes. He needs to be loved as much as the next guy. I really do adore him along with Arashi. Both of em are lil cuties and I love them and they are my faves. I bias over my faves hard and they are all I need. Mama has nice looks yes, but I’ll take Arashi and Izumi anyday. I do love the way these two look and I’ll fight for em. Watch me. 

how they play them: Ahhhhhhh So like, Izumi. Is a shit. A lil shitstain. Let’s be real. Izumi is hard to deal with and he really just--- angers me a lot. Goes so show Izuzu is doing a fine job, right? Ponsol and Izumi are like cat and dog tbh. Like, please stop making me feel how mad you are, Ponz. I don’t care. Stop synching your emotions. I don’t want to be mad at Izumi. STOP THAT. //spritz You see him a lot having a haughty attitude, and only ever so often do you see a crack in that armor of his. Izumi is often played as the powerful and confident guy. 

But at the heart of things, you see that he’s also but a human with flaws and fears. Like when he’s dealing with a whole hoard of girls. The reactions to such are not downplayed. The first time we did this (pre-chara reset) Izumi was just so pitiful like ahhhh child, come to Neo. She will hug you. SHUT UP ACCEPT THE HUG YOU LIL BRAT. Considering he’s been aged, there are likely some places where he may have grown, perhaps to learn to be just a bit more patient. Maybe to learn how to be a bit less rude (or hell, maybe even more rude, years of practice, and years of the sass fruit ripening). As I don’t really know Enstars personally, I do think that Izuzu is doing well. We talk about characterization a lot, so I know that she puts a lot of thought and effort into her characterization. You can see how Izumi changes with different characters based on how well he knows them. 

That takes a lot of character consistency and understanding. So I believe Izuzu knows what she’s doing. Though my word don’t have much weight as I don’t know the original media that he’s from //shrug.

the mun: I dun wanna repeat

do i;

follow them: Well duh, Izumi is my fave~ rp with them: Why yes indeedlywant to rp with them: YES INDEEDLYship their character with mine: ... //mings. As of right now... 50%? I still need to use Ponsol for my own evil deeds, but after that is over i’m 1000% willing to commit to this, yes.

what is my;

overall opinion:  Okay. Time for the big guns. So Izuzu at the core of things is a person who loves to write and talk to people. A very friendly person. I warmed up to Izuzu pretty quick. Very open and willing to pretty much give anyone a chance. Willing to give most things a try. It is good to have someone who is really open-minded about things. 

She also is very keen on character development with the way she’s always striving to become better and to write better. She tries her best to write and to learn new ways to write things out. It’s not easy writing in a language that isn’t your first one. So I really respect that of Izuzu.

Now to be honest, when I first joined RTRP the only threads I really saw for Izuzu were ahhhh nsfw threads so I will admit that I was squinting at the screen like ‘wait is that really... all you thread?’ I grew nervous, I won’t lie. On my main blog, i’ve seen a lot of people who literally only really rp smut and they reach out to you just for that. If you don’t give them the smut they get all nasty with you. It’s really annoying when it gets to the point of bullying. No one really touched Haru though. She’s often neglected-- which is nice but it also means I get so much... dry spells and it’s sad. I digress, so I was a bit nervous about Izuzu to be honest and was just //avoid. I won’t lie. This meme is about brutal honesty so here it is. 

So seeing her reply to a regular open starter and having Izumi be a brat was relieving. At least it was like ‘okay so you are totally okay with threading things that aren’t NSFW. Thank you. QuQ I saw way too many people who are just like ‘INTRODUCTIONS’ and then ‘I WANT IN YOUR PANTS NOW’. I just 0-0!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyways, does her interest in NSFW make her any less a great rp’er? No. Did it worry me though? Yes. Protect my son 2k16.

Izuzu has an interest in that, but she’s also interested in other things like fluff, angst, and daily life shenans. Really you can just send anything and she’ll probably be okay with the idea. A very adaptive rp’er. Like I said before, she can write a lot so sometimes she and I can have really long tangent threads, and then we both suffer because it’s so long. Why did we do this to ourselves? 

I’m just rambling on a lot, but in other words: Izuzu is a quality rp’er who often tends to think not so highly of her work. I personally believe she does very well for writing in a language that isn’t her mother tongue. You might not notice it at first when you first read her work. If you want a partner who is open to just about anything, and is serious about what they do, Izuzu is a good bet. 

Just note that Izuzu can be slow at times due to her being a part of multiple groups with many blogs. She’s got a lot going on so it would be hard to balance everything. Also a student so you know. Busy busy busy. Also normally writes a lot by default. So those are things to look out for and be mindful of if any of those bother you.

I think that will suffice. Gotta save some material for future memes, right? Can’t say everything now. Gotta wait for the next time. Ohohoho. This is how I make people come back because I’ll suddenly throw in more information/confessions.

**Note: Mun’s answer are all to be completely honest. Don’t send url if you don’t want brutal honesty.

[bronzeflower]

Who The Fuck Writes A Ten-Page Rant?????

Also on ao3

-----

Chapter 3: The Video Has Been Created

You woke up with your face on your computer keyboard, hunched over, and uncomfortable as hell. You proceed to sit up and groan as every single bone in your spine cracks like it’s the Fourth of July without any of the actual fun of the Fourth of July.

You blink until you regain sight of the world and drink some water to get the morning taste out of your mouth. You also grab the sweet, sweet elixir that coffee and toast some bread to eat.

Once you get all the other survival aspects of life out of the way, you sit down at your computer and begin to message Kanaya.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling grimAuxiliatrix [GA] --

CG: HEY, KANAYA. CG: I JUST HAD THE WEIRDEST DREAM.

GA: I Congratulate You On Your Rest GA: Might I Inquire What Your Dream Was About

CG: IT WAS MOSTLY JUST WEIRD BECAUSE OF HOW REALISTIC IT WAS. CG: LIKE, I WAS JUST BINGE-WATCHING A BUNCH OF VIDEOS ON GRUBTUBE WHERE THIS GUY WEARING SHADES WAS JUST REVIEWING A SHIT-TON OF RANDOM PRODUCTS CG: AND I GOT SO PISSED OFF AT IT. CG: EVERY SINGLE ONE OF HIS REVIEWS WAS DONE IN THE MOST MONOTONE FUCKING VOICE, AND HE WOULD DESCRIBE EVERY SINGLE LITTLE THING YOU COULD CONCEIVABLY THINK OF TO DESCRIBE, AND THEN HE WOULD GO THAT LITTLE EXTRA MILE TO CONNECT THOSE DETAILS TO THE MOST UNRELATED SHIT. CG: HE COMPARED THE SHAPE OF AN APPLE TO SOME EVENT IN HISTORY THAT NOBODY HAS EVEN EVER HEARD ABOUT. CG: AN APPLE, KANAYA.

GA: That Certainly Sounds Entertaining

CG: IT WAS, BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT. CG: THE POINT IS, HE PISSED DREAM-ME OFF SO MUCH THAT I WROTE HIM THIS HUGE RANT ABOUT HOW POINTLESS AND CONFUSING HIS CHANNEL WAS. CG: I DON’T EVEN REMEMBER THE MAJORITY OF WHAT I WROTE. CG: AND THAT WAS MY DREAM, BASICALLY.

GA: That Is Definitely A Strange Dream GA: Did The Channel Have A Name

CG: YEAH IT WAS SOMETHING LIKE COGS IN THE GOD’S HEAD CG: OR SOMETHING EQUALLY DUMB AS THAT. CG: IT WAS AN ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS NAME THAT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH WHAT HIS CHANNEL ACTUALLY DID.

GA: If I May Be So Bold GA: It Is Plausible That The Channel Is Not As Fake As You Believe It To Be GA: http://grubtube.com/channel/Ds7ioP4nOI1dS3Jls88

CG: WHAT THE FUCK. CG: HUH CG: I GUESS YOU’RE RIGHT. CG: WHAT A FUCKING DOUCHEBAG.

GA: I Concur

CG: WHO EVEN WEARS SHADES ALL THE FUCKING TIME ANYWAYS? CG: IT’S ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS.

GA: What About How Real You Think Your Dream Might Have Been?

CG: FUCK, I DON’T KNOW. CG: MAYBE I WAS SO TIRED THAT I JUST REGISTERED IT ALL AS A DREAM. CG: HOWEVER, THE RANT I WROTE WAS MOST DEFINITELY JUST A DREAM. CG: IT WAS MERELY A SIDE EFFECT OF WATCHING HIS VIDEOS AT AN EARLY HOUR.

GA: Perhaps GA: I Do Think It Is Unlikely That Was Something You Actually Did GA: However You Do Tend To Rant Quite A Bit

CG: THAT’S FAIR.

GA: Also I Happen To Have A Question For You Unrelated To This Topic

CG: WHAT IS IT?

GA: Are You Planning On Coming To Work Today GA: Or Are You Feeling Sick

CG: OH SHIT. CG: SORRY, KANAYA, I’LL BE THERE SOON.

GA: Thank You

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling grimAuxiliatrix [GA] --

You quickly get dressed and run out of the door in order to get to Kanaya’s store.

When you get there, you find her speaking to a woman with dark lipstick and white hair. The were probably talking about a commission for clothing, so you decided to leave them alone to assist people in the store.

You loved Kanaya, you really did, but if you have to deal with one more customer who tried to haggle with you, you were going to strangle someone. It wasn’t your fault that certain people did not understand the time and effort it takes to make a handmade garment.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t make any exceptions to the price. These are all made with high-quality materials, and they are hand-tailored. IN all honesty, this is practically a steal for what it's worth.”

“Look here, I know quality when I see it, and this piece of garbage isn’t passing any quality tests anytime soon.”

“You're free to shop anywhere else if you wish or find something cheaper in the store.” You said. “So, please, either pay for the skirt or buy something else.”

“Fine, I will!” The customer declared. “And I won’t buy anything from this store ever!”

Karkat breathed out a sigh of relief when the customer left. Thank. Fucking. God.

The lady Kanaya was speaking to came out of the back and began to look around the store. She looked around for so long that you rung up three purchases.

Eventually, she came up to the counter with several items.

“Excuse me, but I was wondering if you could assist me.”

“What do you need?” you ask, hoping that she would not be an obnoxious customer.

“I need some help in deciding which blouse to buy.” She held up two blouses, one that had a black and white design, and one that had a lavender color.

“I would go with the light purple one.” You advised. “It’s a nice color and it’s made with better material.”

“Thank you.” She put away the black and white blouse. “I would like to buy the rest of these.”

You add up the price of all the items, and she pays. You neatly fold all the clothes and put them in bags, which you hand to the woman.

“Come again.” You say when you give her the bags.

“Thank you. I will.” She left, and you glance at the clock to see how much time was left before you needed to close the store. About two more hours.

At least there weren't that many people in the store to deal with, but that wasn’t very good for the story and left you feeling very, very bored. It stayed like this for a long while.

“Has Rose left?”

You jumped at the sudden voice and turned to Kanaya.

“Who’s Rose?”

“She was the woman I was talking to about a commission. The one with the white hair.” Kanaya explained.

“Oh, yeah. She did leave. Bought a whole bunch of shit beforehand though. Why?”

“Well, as I said, we were talking about sewing a dress for her, but I just realized that I neglected to ask her for her contact information in order to finalize the details of her request.”

“She might come back tomorrow. After all, she would care about her dress. That, and the shop is going to close soon.”

“Oh. Well, I do hope she shows up tomorrow.”

Rose did, in fact, show up the next day, and she and Kanaya traded contact information. Before Rose left, she bought a hair flower that she claimed was a gift for a friend.

For the next few weeks, everything went as normal as ever until you were looking through GrubTube only to find a video made by cogsintheGodshead titled “long angry rant.’ The thumbnail had a picture of the douchebag with photoshopped angry eyebrows with a large stack of paper shittily photoshopped next to him.

You click on the video because, of course, you want to see him have an actual expression on his face. However, your hopes of seeing him angry fall flat when the video begins.

“So, recently, I got an angry message describing how useless my channel is, so, of course, I’m going to read the entire thing to all of you.”

He cleared his throat and began reading.

“First of all, fuck you. And second of all, fuck you. And third of all, guess fucking what? Fuck you. I’m sending you a metaphorical middle finger. Two, in fact. Both of my middle hand sticks are erect and ready for your viewing pleasure.”

By the time you got two minutes into the video, the rant began to sound familiar and suspiciously like one of your own rants. By the time five minutes had passed, you were convinced that it was your rant. By the time ten minutes had passed, you were only halfway through the video and you were feeling complete and utter rage that soon faded away into embarrassment and mortification.

You can not fucking believe that this pretentious douche was reading, out loud, the message you sent to him. The message you thought you didn’t actually send and that you thought was merely a figment of your imagination.

When the video ended, you decided you had to message someone about it.

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling grimAuxiliatrix [GA] --

CG: IT WAS NOT A DREAM.

GA: I Believe You Are Going To Have To Be A Little Bit More Specific About Which Dream You Are Talking About

CG: THE ONE WHERE I WROTE A GIANT FUCKING RANT AND SENT IT TO COGSINTHEGODSHEAD. CG: THAT WAS NOT A DREAM.

GA: What Happened To Prove This

GC: THIS GC: THIS HAPPENED. GC: https://www.grubtube.com/watch?=Odda45IDa09

GA: There Doesn’t Appear To Be Any Evidence That You Were The One Who Wrote It Other Than That It Sounds Like Your Style Of Writing

GC: AND THAT I *DREAMED* ABOUT IT

GA: That Would Be A Pretty Telling Sign GA: How Are You Fairing

GC: I DON’T REALLY KNOW. GC: I’M PRETTY MAD ABOUT IT, AND I HATE PAST ME FOR WRITING THE THING, GC: BUT I GUESS I ALREADY WROTE AND SENT IT, GC: AND COGSINTHEGODSHEAD ALREADY MADE A VIDEO ABOUT IT, GC: SO THERE ISN’T REALLY ANYTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT.

GA: You Could Send A Message To Him About It

GC: AND EMBARRASS MYSELF EVEN FURTHER? GC: NO, THANK YOU!

GA: It Was Simply A Suggestion You Do Not Have To Do It If You Do Not Wish It

GC: I KNOW, BUT I DON’T THINK I WILL. GC: IT WOULD BE CHILDISH, AND ‘IM A GROWN FUCKING ADULT. GC: THE VIDEO IS ACTUALLY REALLY FUNNY NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT, EVEN IF THE GRUBTUBER HIMSELF IS A HUGE ASSHOLE.

GA: I Am Glad You Are Being Mature About It

GC: ME TOO. GC: I SHOULD PROBABLY GO EAT SOMETHING, SO I’LL MESSAGE YOU LATER. GC: IF THERE IS ANYTHING YOU NEED TO TELL ME THEN, FEEL FREE TO DO SO. GC: GOD KNOWS I’VE TALKING YOUR EARS OFF MORE THAN ENOUGH TIMES.

GA: Alright I Will Be Sure To Do That

GC: OH, AND KANAYA?

GA: Yes Karkat

GC: <>

GA: <>

-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling grimAuxiliatrix [GA] --