#y’all can calm down in my comment section okay :)

[starship-squalleater]

They’re gonna kill off Molly in like ep 2 so they don’t have to animate that fucking coat

[sunrisesfromthewest]

First Encounter Part 6

Warning:Marcus still on💯,Rated R language here and there🤬,Taking Birth Control💊(It’s for the plot don’t start blowing up my comment section,I got y’all 😭)in and out of readers pov,you’ll understand once you start reading📖

Previous Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Entering your bedroom your eyes peer around every surface, searching for your black furry baby." Midnight, baby where are you!" you said wondering where he could’ve gone, while you were......handling business in the shower. 

 After scavenging through your bed sheets and closet you place your hands on your hips, letting out a huff in frustration. 

 Crossing your arms, you look back at Armando, who is just now exiting the bathroom, towel still wrapped low on his hips, bringing out his v-line. Shaking your head you look away asking him what he did with your baby. "Promise me you want get mad, princess.” he said scratching the back of his head with a hesitant expression. 

Eyes twitching you reply, "The fuck you do with my baby." Before you could drill in on him, he walks over and grabs your hands attempting to calm you down. "He's okay, he started meowing loud, so I assumed he was hungry." Relaxing a bit, you remove your hands from his and make your way towards the kitchen anxiously. 

“For your sake, he better be fine!” you said, walking to his bowl, but stopping at the sight before you, mouth dropping open. "He's fine,Y/N all I did was give it a little foo-” pausing mid-sentence, Armando lets out a surprise laugh, at the sight before him. 

Your poor baby peaked up at you two, little face saturated, in what looked like milk or tuna. Watching as he returns back to eating his food, Armando says, "See princess, I told you he was okay.” 

Turning to give Armando a glare, you point down at your baby, "Does he look okay to you!" As if on cue, Midnight lays down beside his bowl, looking as high as a kite, little belly full to compacity. Bursting out in laughter, all Armando could do was smile at the scene before him. 

 "Since you think it’s so Goddamn funny, you clean it up!” you say smacking his arm, while making your way back to the room to get dressed. Hearing him laugh louder only caused you to smack your lips, in disbelief. 

With Armando in the kitchen cleaning up the mess he caused, you began to moisturize your body, knowing that you'll become ashy without it. Throwing on the clothes you set out, you make your way over to the restroom, to pick up, y'all discarded clothes. 

After putting the clothes in a dirty hamper, you looked around in the small shelf above it, in search of your birth control. "I need to make sure, I don’t bring, no baby into this messy situation." you mumble to yourself. Spotting the box, you examined it to make sure, the pills haven’t expired. 

 Shrugging when you see that it’s only, a few weeks passed the expiration date, you take one, mentally making a note to by a fresh box. Exiting the bathroom you see, Armando chilling on your bed, with your now clean baby, who looked like it was in a food coma. Chuckling to yourself, as you walked over to your dresser, you say, "Remind me to never leave you, in charge of my baby ever again.” 

As you pulled out clothes for Armando he laughs,” Yeah, I think that would be smart to do,”he said grabbing the shirt and sweats you set on the bed. Slipping on the clothes you gave him, he asked, "Hey, where did you put those pair of pants, I had on?" Raising your eyebrows, you point to the restroom saying, it in the dirty hamper. As Armando walks over to the bathroom, you head to the living room in search of your phone. 

After finding it, your eyes widen by all the messages popping up on the screen, some from Kelly and Dorn, but majority are from your father. Looking at the most recent text your dad sent, you gasped covering your mouth. 

Y/N, BABY PLEASE DON’T GIVE ME NO LOWREY GRANDBABIES, I DON’T THINK I CAN SURVIVE THREE OF THEM!!!!!   

Sent at 8:15 pm from Candy Killer 🍭🍴🍭

*Buzz*

GIRL, DIDN’T I TELL YOU TO NOT GET INVOLVE WITH HIM!    

Has it been that long since Rafe!?! 

Sent at 8:16pm from Sleeping Beauty 👸🏻👸🏻👸🏻

*Buzz*

Scratch what I said earlier this is the fastest I EVER seen you, give in for some dick.........I’m taking you to my therapist immediately!!!!!!!!!!!!   

Sent at 8:18pm from Prince Charming🫅🏼🫅🏼🫅🏼

Turning your phone off of silent mode,you watch as a text pop up from Mike, almost making you drop your phone. 

*Ding*

BRING YALL NASTY ASSSESS BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!!!!  

Sent at 8:20 pm from Money Mike 💸💸💸💸

Quickly making your way back to the room, you grabbed your duffel bag and picked up your baby while, yelling for Armando. 

Hearing the small commotion Armando walks back into your bedroom, picture from earlier placed in his pocket as he looked at your nervous expression. "What's going on? "He says lost by your sudden urgency to leave.  

Not saying anything you just passed Armando your phone, while making your way to the door, trailing behind you he stares at the phone with amusement as he reads some of the messages popping up. “This is what got you all frantic, Y/N and What’s up with these contact names?” he said smirking as he sees you turn around with a bewilder look.  

"The Caller Id names should be the least of your worries.You haven’t been around my father long enough to see him, freak out. One time he thought Mike was sleeping with my mom during a case, where they had to switch identities and he flipped the fuck out.... Climbing all on the house and shit......peeking through windows......and breaking the pool we had at the time.”

 Pausing at the door to catch your breath you give Armando a serious look, "I know you probably seen some crazy things, since you used to be in the Cartel but seeing the Marcus Burnett freak the fuck out is a whole level of craziness......especially when he finds out that you had sex with his daughter.”

Grabbing your keys, you make your way to the elevator lowkey scared of what’s to come, closing and locking your door Armando follows after you, eyebrows screwed in thought. 

“Hey, it takes two to tango, princess and plus like you said I’ve seen and done some crazy shit in my life so far. I think I can handle your dad throwing a tantrum about his precious little girl” he said sarcastically. 

“Okay, I tried to warn you." shrugging you enter the elevator pressing the floor level button. Following behind you Armando enters as well back leaning against the elevator wall, in thought. 

“He’s not gonna freak out that bad, is he?” he said becoming concern from your earlier response. 

Getting no reply from you, had his mind racing, with worry and anxiety.  

________________________________________________________________________________ 

After sending you another text of disappoint, Kelly throws a look to Dorn who seems to be doing the same things, but with a childish smirk. 

Right before she could walk over to scold him, for whatever dumb thing he sent you, she is grabbed by Marcus, who is still freaking out. 

Holding Kelly captive Marcus continue to sputter nonsense, which only left Kelly more discombobulated. Viewing the scene before him made Mike irritated and annoyed at his partner behavior.  

Fed up he walks over breaking the hold he had on Kelly, (which she greatly appreciates), pointing at Marcus, Mike says "Enough with the Bullshit!” 

“NO! Mike, you don’t understand...Y/N...my baby girl.... has actually gotten with a ‘Bad boy’ and the worst part is he’s your son. It’s Deja vu,all over again, first my little sister, now this......WHAT THE FUCK IS IN THAT LOWREY BLOOD! " Marcus says crying against Mike arm becoming hysterical. 

Rolling his already stressed filled eyes, all Mike does is pat his back, while saying with a smirk, "Most be some good shit since, you Burnetts can’t keep away from us.” 

Pulling away from Mikes embrace Marcus glares at him, "The fuck is that supposed to mean, “pausing Marcus throws his hands up in surrender, "You know what Mike don’t answer it.... I need to pray these evil spirits away.” 

“You know what Marcus,go do that, I'll be outside, creating a plan to get my wife back. Who should be my priority right now, not your whining ass!" tired of dealing with his tantrum Mike walks back outside, with Dorn and Kelly quickly leaving with him as well. 

__________________________________________________________________________________ 

Pulling up beside the AMMO van, you sigh as you put the car in park, nerves starting to get the best of you. Eyes peering over to Armando, you see him staring through the window in thought, probably thinking about what’s to come. 

Reaching across the console you grab his hand giving it a soft squeeze, "Penny for your thoughts?" Hearing him release a chuckle, he looks up at you smiling slightly, "Don't play you already know, what I’m thinking about baby," pausing he looks at you with unease before saying, "Is your dad really gonna wig out over this?” 

Watching his face turn into unease almost made you laugh, but you kept it in, "In all honestly, yes......but he’s probably going to go off on me, more than you." Seeing him visibly relax at your words made, you laugh, as you turned the car off. 

Getting out the car you said, "Just in case though, I would probably hide behind me or your dad!" Leaving from the car as well Armando face screws up, in confusion, "But you just said he’ll attack you more than me!” 

Shaking your head you smile widely, "I did but if you haven’t noticed by now, he likes to go after the biggest opponent!” Pausing to pick up Midnight and your duffel bag, you look up to see that Armando has moved to your side of the car, hand grabbing the bag from you, swinging it over his right shoulder. 

“And in this moment, it's you.” you say making your way over to the others who are talking on the dock. Armando stood there thinking about what you just said, but snapping out of it when you start walking away. Following behind you Armandos face falls back to its usual nonchalant look, as you walk up to the group. 

Dorn is the first to see you guys approaching, but before he could say anything Mike cuts in "Glad to see y’all horny assess made it back!" eyes run over y’all bodies picking up, on the change of clothes, but once he looks at your neck, he shakes his head in disbelief.  

“I could care less if you guys fool around but y’all couldn’t wait until after we rescued my wife.......MATTER FACT.......HELL YOU JUST MET TODAY!!!!” All you could do was nod your head in shame, while listening to Mike rant, although you don’t regret what you did, you could’ve chosen a different time. 

As you open your mouth to apologize, Mike silence you with a look, "I don’t want to hear a half as apology Y/N, all I want from you right now is to go deal with your dramatic ass Daddy.......he been giving me a headache since y'all left.” 

Biting your lip so you wouldn’t laugh, you send Armando a small smile, as you make your way towards the house. Brown eyes following your retreating figure, he hears his father clearing his throat, causing him to looking back at the group.

He notices everyone staring him down with they’re arms crossed, even Lockwood traitorous ass, was looking at him sideways. 

Sensing his son getting annoyed by the different looks he was receiving , Mike pulls Armando aside to have a little ‘talk' with him.

___________________________________________________________________________________ 

Walking into the house you see your father sitting on the couch, with his eyes closed. Confused you close the door silently behind you, while cautiously making your way towards him. Opening his eyes Marcus, stares you down as you sit there in silence, obviously waiting for him to say something. 

“Y/N.” your father says calmly while watching you hold Midnight against your chest.

Observing him as his gaze shift up to your heavily marked neck, you hesitantly whisper yes, waiting for your fathers response. "Did you at least use protection?” he says eyes still staring hard at your neck, biting your lip, you shake your head no, shifting slightly as you wait for his reaction anxiously. 

Nodding his head, he places his hands together eyes no longer gazing at your neck angrily, as he bounces his right leg against the floor. 

“I took a birth control pill tho,so you don’t have to worry about no LOWREY grandbabies." you said letting out a laugh, but clearing your throat instead when he gives you a blank look.”Y/N....you my youngest daughter and I love you......but do you truly believe......and I mean......TRULY believe.... that a damn pill stands a chance against LOWREY DNA!!!” 

Shocked by his words you say, "What?” 

Shaking his head in disappointment he says, "I don’t know who ass to beat....... yours or the future father of my unborn grandchild!”  

Tired of your father antics, you smack his arm to get his attention, "The ONLY grandbaby you getting from me, is right hear against my chest...stop worrying yourself to death. And last I checked Daddy I'm a grown woman,you can’t go around whooping my ass,when I do something, you disagree with.” 

Snapping his head up to you he stands up, pointing down at your stomach, "That baby just saved your life cuz who the hell you think you talking to like that,Y/N!” 

Rolling your eyes in frustration, you sat Midnight down as you stand up and yell, "For the last time I’m NOT PREGNANT WITH A LOWREY BABY and I’m talking to you!” 

Watching your father head look around the room, before pointing at himself he says, "That disrespect most come from your momma side of the family,cuz I’ll be DAMN,if I sit here and tolerate it. Fine your ass not pregnant, I'll take your word for it but the minute and I mean the second I start dreaming about some Damn FISH! I’m whooping somebodies ASS!” 

Laughing at your father foolishness, you say, "Okay, fine I fucked up tonight but can’t you discipline me another time, Christine needs are help right now, and Mike needs his partner, not a concerned father.” 

Giving your father a smile, you watch as he stares at you in thought, before rolling his eyes, "Yeah, we can drop it for now......besides I already forgiven you.” Pausing you analyze his body language, knowing that he usually doesn’t just forgive people so easily,especially when it comes to a situation like this. 

Widening your eyes, you make your way over to your purse that you left there, mouth dropping once you couldn’t find what you were looking for, eyes tearing up, you return your gaze to his not so regretful ones, 

"YOU ATE MY SKITTLES!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors Note:Sorry it took so long to post part 6,I’ve been receiving a few message about the Spanish translations for Armando’s dialogue,in previous chapters.And Y’all Google did me Dirty,but the problem is fixed now😭😭😭,thank y’all for letting me know.I’ll stick to writing his parts in English for now on😂.

I ain’t gonna lie y’all this chapter is more like an appetizer instead of a meal.Stay tuned for part 7,tho💖💖💖

⬇️Also,this how our baby,was looking in that Kitchen😭and RIP SKITTLES you didn’t stand a chance😔😔😔

[caffeinatedseagull]

STAYs really need to get a grip.

Alright? Bc their behaviour recently is *not* okay.

Little gift before I begin my Ted Talk

Alright let’s begin.

I’m talking about the reporter incident.

We all know about how there was a racist photographer who was making rude remarks towards Stray Kids at the Met Gala.

Let me get one thing straight, the man is a jerk. I’m not saying you can’t hold him accountable. *Absolutely* hold him responsible and tell him his actions were not okay. Give him backlash for it.

But hacking the man’s personal website and leaking his home address everywhere on the internet is NOT okay. And it’s illegal.

Listen, SKZ themselves have said and done racist things in the past. They were held accountable, they apologized for a lot of the things.

No one hacked the JYPe website, people didn’t spread their dorm address across comment sections and posts.

And you know why?

Because that’s not appropriate behaviour for the situation.

Doxxing a jerk does not make you a hero.

Racism is a massive issue, and the guy 100% needs to be held accountable, but that is VERY different from what STAYs are doing right now.

Because do you think all this is going to make him apologize? Do you think he will understand why he shouldn’t do what he did?

No. If anything it will solidify and strengthen his beliefs.

Chan’s room was cancelled because of behaviour like this, y’all aren’t just hurting STAY’s image.

I get wanting to protect your faves, but y’all need to remember how big the fandom is.

There are *millions* of us.

Hate spreads like wildfire, and we are Australia.

Take a minute, let yourself calm down. Think for a little bit. And then you can act.

Bc y’all are causing damage, and it’ll only get worse as the fandom grows. Others are going to see that hate and hop on the bandwagon.

If you want to protect SKZ, first you have to save them from yourself.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk, have a lovely day!

TLDR: We need to get a set of fandom rules in place.

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

Just one scrap, Pt. 2

When - right after Part 1, seconds after Maggie revealed that her father is actually a veterinarian. You’re in S02E02 and 03, “Bloodletting” and “Save the Last One”, and as always, canon is maintained and show dialogue is mainly left word for word.

Relationships - this series is a slow burn Daryl x Reader. He’s out searching for Sophia, you’re with the Greene’s trying to save Carl. In this installment, he may or may not unwittingly provide the one scrap you’ve been begging for to keep you from sinking. Also, #Glaggie gets introduced whoo

TWs - stress and despair including stages of grieving, discussion and description of injury and a medical emergency including those of a minor, slight mention of thoughts of self harm or suicidal ideation, and some language.

Perspective - 2nd person

Pronouns - nada, it’s just you.

Plot points/ references to other stories - bro, so many of them. So many of them, y’all. Masterlist to the rest of the Slowpoke Series.

He’s a veterinarian. The man who is about to cut your nephew open and attempt to save his life is a veterinarian. It’s okay. It’s okay.

“It is okay. It ain’t ideal, but it is okay, Y/N.”

“Y-you’re right, Margaret, it’s, it ain’t ideal but it’s—” Breathe. Calm. “It’s okay.” You need to talk yourself through this, oh my God, oh my God.  You run your free hand through your still-wet hair then bend your head down.

Sophia’s missing. T-Dog has an infected wound and the only chance he has is if it isn’t tetanus and if he manages to get treated with a heavy-duty antibiotic, fast. And Shane is risking his life for a chance to save Carl. Because Carl is dying.

It’s just—it’s all so—how is it that everything collapses so quickly? The world, the camp, the CDC, and now this?

“Are you praying again? I can give you some privacy if you need,” she offers.

“Please stay, just gotta get my bearings.”

“It’s no good to be alone when things are this...uncertain.” She puts her hand back on yours and waits while you catch your breath and think things through more reasonably.

“Veterinarians have to know all sorts of different anatomies and do surgery on ’em,” you begin. “That’s a good thing. And a human is a step up from a cow.” Was that you attempting humor? You don’t even know. “And they’re probably, yeah, they’re probably used to havin’ less fancy monitor equipment, right? So they gotta be extra careful and use their eyes and stuff.”

She’s still holding your hand even though yours is like a limp fish. You’re just...you need one fucking scrap of good news.

“Y/N, it’s okay.”

“It’s okay,” you repeat. You tighten your grip on her hand to offer something less floppy, then make a point to relax the tension in your neck.

Then a crash/thud sounds from inside. Didn’t sound too bad, but you stand to check it out. You need to move or you’re gonna burst, anyway. Trying to make light, you say, “I’m gonna go, um—knowin’ Rick, he prolly didn’t take it easy and that was him collapsing.” Breathe. Calm.

“I’ll talk with you later, okay?” Maggie offers you a half-smile that’s warm and apologetic.

“Okay.” Returning the smile as best you can, you head inside.

______________________________________________________

As you walk into the house, trying to process everything and remain level, you see that yes, Rick was the one who fell. At least it appeared to be at the dining room table. He’s donated too much blood. Granted, you agreed with him and would’ve done the same, but your blood type isn’t compatible with Carl’s. Neither is Lori’s, unfortunately. That’s one of the reasons that led to her c-section when he was born.  

Your voice sounds flat as you order “Rick, c’mon now, drink up your Tang.” When you plop down into the chair beside him, your stitches ache.

“Hershel just refilled it,” Lori says quietly.

Rick tries to smile when he comments “You sounded exactly like Shane there, Y/N, just with a different voice.”

“Those two utilize double-modals, I noted. You’re the only sibling I haven’t yet heard do so,” the doctor converses politely and somewhat uncomfortably with Rick. “Or is it that you’re the other sibling?” he corrects himself, looking at Lori.

“No, it’s um, Shane and I have been best friends since we were kids,” Rick explains.

“Ah, explains the visual differences among you three. Family in heart, then,” the doctor says with a nod. “That’s a blessing.”

There’s such a tangibly tense air in the room that you don’t want to move for fear of upsetting it further. Almost feels like you’re unable to move even if you wanted to.

Lori walks back in with another two glasses of Tang and sets one down before you. “Here you go, honey,” she whispers, then leans on the back of your chair, sighs, and slides into the seat next to you. “You injured it again?” she softly points out, gesturing to your slinged arm.

“The doc...the doctor insisted.” You felt strange using the term ‘doctor’, even though he is still indeed a medical doctor. Just not a medical doctor for humans.

And the not-a-medical-doctor-for-humans noticed, and acknowledges with a patient kind of humility, “Margaret told you.”

You nod and take a long drink from your glass. “If you consider it, it’s a leg up. You’re used to all different sorts of anatomies and got less reliance on monitors.” Right? Please agree with me.

“That’s a very encouraging thought.”  

Not the reply you were hoping for but you’ll take what you can get. “And Maggie can do an IV, she helped you with surgery before.”

“That she has, Patricia likewise. Pat’s the most skilled of everybody here but myself. And Otis has a wealth of experience from his years as an EMT, as I’m sure you do.”

“I w-wouldn’t call what I got a ‘wealth.’” Oh my God, you know nothing. You’d only just gotten your certification. Chugging down your drink and feeling the liquid hit your empty stomach only seems to exacerbate the impending sense of helplessness and doom.

Um, okay, what time is it? Would Shane be coming back soon? You look down at Dale’s watch, and it’s...

Your brother and Otis have only been gone for a half-hour. ___________________________

The light fades more and more. Every time you check your watch, it’s either barely ticked down or it’s ticked down too much.

Shane still hasn’t returned every time you look at it.

You finally grit your teeth and start to take the stupid thing off, but the doctor asks you to “Please, leave it on. I understand the temptation to remove it so that you won’t check it as often, but you need to have an accurate reference when takin’ the boy’s pulse.”

That was the other thing you wished you could avoid. Carl’s vitals are altering for the worse and every time you check them it becomes clearer and clearer. His blood pressure is dropping again, more steadily than before. The IV fluid isn’t cutting it and Rick can’t give him any more blood.

And as for blood types, no one else here (who knows their blood type) can donate other than Hershel, who’s still taking a daily anticoagulant since he hasn’t run out of it yet. “I’m so sorry, but the medication in my system would harm him further,” he apologized.

It’s just more and more bad news.

All you need is a scrap of something good, you swear. Just a little tiny something that can keep you afloat in this absolute shit storm. You don’t know how Rick and Lori can handle this, Carl is only your nephew and you’re going postal.

So, you decide to refuse to believe he’s dying. Because it’s bullshit. He can’t be dying, it’s not possible.

It’s not possible, it’s not fair, it’s not real.

_____________________________

The sun finally sets. Still no Otis and Shane. They should have been back by now.

When the doctor checks Carl’s BP again and announces that it’s going down and you can’t wait much longer to do the surgery, Rick’s had it.

“Take some more, whatever he needs,” he stammers, stretching arm out as if the doc will consider the idea of taking even a partial donation more from him. “Then I’m gonna go.”

“If you’re going, I’ll go with you,” falls out of your mouth before you can think better on it and consider that that is not something that should be done by any means. Rick is hardly able to stand as it is, and with your busted shoulder and new abdominal stitches, you’re dead weight.

Lori perks up out of her fog to ask her husband, “Go? Go where?”

“He said five miles, they should be long back by now. Somethin’s gone wrong.”

“Are you insane? You’re not going after them, neither of you.”

Hand covering your face, you stutter “I know, Lori. I’m sorry, m-momentary lapse.”

“Rick, listen to your wife,” Hershel tells him.

“If they got into trouble—”

“—You’re in no condition to do anythin’ about it.” The doctor is firm, but not cold. “You’ve given too much blood, you’re barely on your feet. You wouldn’t make it across the yard.”

Rick doesn’t appear to be in the headspace to hear the truth in it. “If something happened, I have to go,” he insists to the two of them.

Voice riddled with hurt and disbelief, Lori tells him “No. Your place is here.”

“If Shane said he’ll be back, he’ll be back,” you add for both your benefit and his.

“He’s like you that way, Rick,” Lori mumbles in agreement. Her hands are trembling.

Ever protective, he challenges “I can’t just sit here—”

“—That’s exactly what you do!” she finally snaps. “If you need to pray, or cry, or tell God he’s cruel, you go right ahead! But you’re not leaving, Rick. Carl needs you. Here.” Her strong facade begins to crack as she whispers, “And I can’t do this by myself. Not this one. I can’t, I can’t.”

Then she takes a shuddering breath and sits back down next to her son. Just glancing at Rick, you can see that his expression has changed.

You aren’t sure what’s he’s thinking, but you’re just now considering that he has no real frame of reference for what Lori went through when he was ‘dead.’

Finding out your spouse was shot and nearly dead would be bad enough on its own. But the regret and guilt she held about their crumbling marriage was something she couldn’t explain to anybody, not then.

Their problems began years back. To cope, or in lieu of it, Rick sort of threw himself into his work and in helping others when the problems began, which made things worse. Lori ended up resenting him for it, and it was beginning to come to a head when the accident happened.

She told your eldest sister about their particular fight the morning of the day he almost died where she said something along the lines of him not caring about his family, the usual stuff a significant other will say or think when things are rough—but that time, she said it in front of Carl.

She wanted to undo it from the moment it came out, but once it was said, it was said.

And several hours later, she gets the call that Rick was shot and on death’s door. Several more hours later, he was put into a coma.

Then a week went by and he was still in it, and every loved one had already gone through some kind of mourning and grief as if he’d already died. Hope was still there, but the understanding that it could go very wrong always lurked.

Rick’s health improved during the following week, but they wanted to keep him under because he simply hadn’t improved enough. Then two more weeks went by, and the outlook was much better.

But in those same two weeks, the stability of the world was shaken and the sickness was spreading. Changes and restrictions were enacted, followed quickly by unrest, and riots in the bigger cities.

Then another week passed, and while Rick was approaching being able to be taken out of his coma, the world had begun to fall apart and martial law was being enacted because the sickness was everywhere and the dead were walking.

And another week and a half later, nobody could keep count of how many loved ones and neighbors had died, your mother and her dog among them. Once Shane and you were able and the plan was set, you two rushed to the hospital to take Rick out because everything was collapsing and you needed to escape with those you had left; Lori, Carl, and Rick. Getting him out of the hospital was his only chance.

Whatever lapse or mistake Shane made in there that ended with him convinced he couldn’t hear a heartbeat, you aren’t sure. But the end result was still that Lori and Carl (and Shane and you) had to go through the stages of grief yet again, and fast.

And after she started to move on, he comes back perfectly fine. The guy was even wearing his uniform. Hell, you’d thought you were seeing a ghost when you first saw him at the camp.

You know it sounds awful and you don’t want to undermine what Rick went through; he woke up alone and still recovering, almost 6 weeks had gone by, civilization had come undone, and dead people were eating the living.  But no matter those experiences in the couple following weeks he spent with the kind man and his son...you don’t know, but he didn’t live through everything that happened to make things that way.

It’s not his fault, but there’s a mountain of experiences for which he cannot have context, including that Lori, already wracked with guilt, had mourned his death not once, but twice.

And now, he had been ready to go out and risk his own life yet again without considering that she desperately needed and wanted him to stay with her this time. Her and their dying son.

Rick might be thinking the same as you based on how overwhelmed he looks. He remains standing for a few moments, then falls back into his chair and places his head between his knees.

You’re grateful when a gentle hand on your shoulder rescues you from any more inner dialogue. “Y/N, would you accompany me to the kitchen? Let’s see about getting these two some supper,” the doctor murmurs. _________________________________________________________

Jimmy is Otis and Patricia’s son, and Beth and Maggie are Hershel’s daughters, so Maggie filled you in when you both briefly laid out your families/groups to each other.

And as for her father, once bringing you back into the kitchen after you and he brought Lori and Rick a small plate of food, he had you sit, put a bowl in front of you, then directed you to “Eat. Patricia will take over monitoring the boy’s vitals for a while. No, please don’t argue. Consider it me needing everybody at their best for Carl’s surgery. Pat could use the distraction, besides.”

Maggie was diplomatic and whispered into your ear “He’s used to dealing with strong-willed because of me. Come on,” she then urged. “Let’s eat on the porch for when your brother and Otis get back.”

In the few hours you’ve known her, she’s been very honest and down-to-earth. You like her.

After a long stretch of silence during which you two picked at your meals, she puts her fork down.

“The circumstances are awful, but I’m at least glad to know that there are people out there willin’ to take care of each other,” she offers in her delicate way. “It’s also kinda nice to talk to somebody my own age again. It’s been a while.”

“The group at the quarry was a good one, I was very blessed,” you acknowledge. “And it was n-nice that I had Amy and Glenn who were my age. They both became very good friends.”

“Amy?”

Oh, right. You’d only mentioned to her those from your group who are still living.

“She was Andrea’s younger sister.” Your lips grow wobbly again, so you cover it up by taking another bite of food that you chew without tasting. Damn it, that sensation in your hand is coming back again. It’s survivor’s guilt, and it’s lying to you, you remember, just like Dale told you.

It started again when Carl was shot. After a glance to confirm that your hand is clean and not covered in blood, you swallow and try to keep things positive for Maggie’s sake when you say to her, “Just wait ’til you meet Glenn, you’ll love him. He’s like a sunbeam in a snowstorm.”

“Oh, you two are together, then?” she kindly assumes.

“No, never nothin’ like that. I did have a crush on him for a little while, but now we’re purely buds.” You move around the food in your bowl in the hopes it will disappear. That doesn’t work, so you keep chatting to prevent yourself from thinking much more. “He’s terrible cute, though. Mark my words, you’ll like him.”

“I look forward to it, then.”

During the quiet moment in the conversation, you look around the farm to try and appreciate the beauty of it all. It’s so...untouched here. Feels surreal, almost as if you’re asleep. “My two best friends in the before-times had a farm kinda like yours.”

“What type did they have?”

“Veggie. Had a bunch of hens, too, and a few animals for milk. Made cheese.”

“And sold raw milk on the sly, then?” she asks in a playful tone.

Feeling the dread in your gut ease, you admit “They sold the goat milk legally as ‘pet food,’ but might could’ve sold the raw cows’ milk under the radar on occasion...” You’re even smiling now. It’s enough that when you take another bite, you don’t not enjoy it. “You do that here, too?”

“Daddy kept us on the straight and narrow,” she chuckles, shaking her head. “Ours is more a cattle farm than a dairy farm, anyway, but we do enjoy it ourselves.” She glances at you with a warm grin. “You know, I had a friend in college, from Kentucky, she was in the agro program. Told me how you can only buy some over there if you got a doctor’s note.”

“A doc prescribing milk? That’s different.”

“You’re tellin’ me.”

Another quiet descends on the conversation and the heaviness of the day presses back down on you. “Margaret? Thank you. For being so kind to me, for bein’ so accommodating.”

She doesn’t respond right away. “I think that right now, focusing only on the doom and gloom will drag you under.” She angles her body toward you and places her hand on your back. “When things are like this, we need to make it okay somehow. Because life is gonna pull all sorts of punches we can’t go around, over, or under. We make it okay because we got to go through it.”

She must’ve gotten her degree in psychology or something. You take a moment before saying anything back and instead fidget with a thread sticking out of your sling.

Unfortunately, your tears start to flow again because what Maggie said reminded you of ‘We’re going on a bear hunt.’ Your nephews loved that story. Both the dead one and the one who’s inside dying—no, sorry, he’s not dying. He’s not, he can’t be. Sure you are just in denial, but fuck it, you’ll drown otherwise.

In your defense, you endeavor to laugh at yourself when you explain why you’re blubbering again because, good God, you need to try to add some levity to all this heavy, awful nightmare.

Gentle as ever, she smiles back sadly and tells you “My stepbrother read that one to Beth a lot when she was little. We all did, she thought it was the best story.”

“Shawn was the one wearing the baseball hat in the picture on the fridge, right?”

“Yeah.”

Softly, you ask “Fever or bite?”

“...Fever took my stepmother. Her bite took him.”

Now it’s your turn to place a hand on her back. “You must’ve loved them a whole lot.”

“I still do.” After wiping her eyes, she wonders out loud with a resigned smile, “How did a discussion about raw milk turn into this?”

“Holy Moses, I got no idea.” Taking your unfinished bowl and standing up, you offer “I’ll put this in the fridge unless you feel comfortable finishing it?”

“Save it for yourself, you’re gonna be hungry later.” Standing up as well, she brings her plate and starts to walk back inside with you. Back to reality. “Y/N? I’m glad I met you. You’re a good person.” ______________________________________________________

Rick and Lori took a break a little while after you got back. Without them there, Patricia and the doctor are being very blunt about Carl’s status.

“His belly is increasingly distended and his pressure is dropping further and further. Pat, I know Otis and Y/N’s brother must be on their way but I can’t advise puttin’ this off much longer.”

“That’s because he doesn’t have much time left without intervention, Hersh. Jimmy should be bringin’ in that surgical table soon, he’s sanitized it just like Otis showed him.”

“Would mouth-to-mouth be enough to keep Carl going without the respirator?” you pitch in. There has to be some way. “Or what about CPR the whole time?”

Patricia is concerned. “Will Y/N be able to do CPR with those injuries?” She’s massaging Carl’s feet while you take his respirations and pulse again, though you need to restart because you aren’t paying attention.

“My shoulder and stitches don’t matter, I’ll do anything.”

“It will be our only option, as well,” the doctor weighs in. After putting his stethoscope back around his neck, he slouches forward in his seat and closes his eyes. “If...if they don’t come back within the next hour, I’m going to ask his parents to make a decision.”

You don’t want his gaze to have turned to you, but it has, even though you tried to look busy checking Carl’s pulse and breathing rate again. He wasn’t going to die, he was simply temporarily dying right now.

Right? That’s all. It’s not possible that three of your own will be taken from you within days of each other like they were last time. It hasn’t even been a month, you can’t lose any more so soon. And not when this would be your fault. You can’t take that. You can’t.

“Y/N. I’ll want you to stay for the surgery. With the respirator, I’d have you continue to monitor him and alert us to any changes while Patricia and I go inside, remove the remainin’ fragments and stitch up that bleed.”

He then presses his palms together. “I need you sharp for the surgery, should we get that respirator back in time or should his parents decide to go through with the risk of doing so without, which may end up being his only chance. Without the respirator, he’ll need CPR the entire time and for a while after, until the medicine wears off enough that he can breathe on his own.”

“A moment doc, I keep losin’ count.” You don’t need to check bpm and rpm so soon again, but if it’ll make the doctor stop talking, you’ll do it. For thirty seconds, you count Carl’s breaths, then double them and record it. For the following thirty, his pulse, which you double and record. Slowly, you write it down as if that minuscule postponing of more bad news will spare you or save Carl from the truth.

But you ‘can’t go over it, can’t go under it.’ You’ve gotta go through it.

When he sees you write the final count, he waits until you finally drag your eyes up to meet his. There’s nothing cold or dismissive about the way he states “You need to understand that there is a very strong chance this child does not make it through. If you have faith, hold onto it. But we need to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to do what we are able, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

Gee, thanks for the Serenity Prayer, veterinarian. What is this, AA? you spit inside your mind. Your denial is quickly transforming into anger, but at least you have a shred of wherewithal left to keep your mouth shut.

He looks at Carl and takes a deep breath. “We can and certainly should hope and pray in the meanwhile, but please understand the likelihood that he may pass despite our best efforts.”

Shut up, old man! What would some barnyard quack know about this shit? You kick back those gut reactions, nod your head politely, and stand there dumb. Then fuck it, you try to pray again for whatever good it will do.

Please not him, just not Carl, you repeat in your head. Please, please, please, I’ll do anything. If you’re gonna take somebody, fine, just don’t let it be that boy. Pick anybody else. Pick me if you want, it should’ve been me anyway, or pick – whoa, whoa, calm down.

Whoa. Okay, you know what’s going on. This is bargaining. You remember this part. It’s just another common aspect of grieving, nothing more. It’s natural in desperation.

But offering up somebody else’s life like it’s goddamned dark magic or something doesn’t sit well with you and you hate it, so you rethink your plea and the situation into a more healthy sentiment.

I'm asking that Carl lives. And please, give me one scrap of good news so I can get through whatever happens and help the others get through it. Please.

________________________________________________________

“You missed Rick retelling the story about how your brother stole the principal’s car.”

“Oh, man,” you mumble. That was during the acting-out phase Shane went through after your dad died. Same dark timeline as that...incident, between Shane and that women’s athletics coach. “That happened before you moved here, right Lori?”

“It did, but the kids at school talked about it even the next year when I transferred there.”

“’Cause it was legendary, they’re probably still talkin’ about it.” Is Rick loopy or something? “Shane beelined out of lunch, middle of the school day, headed straight for the teacher’s lot, and right into Kingsley’s Hyundai.”

“The day my poor mama learned her recently deceased policeman husband had taught his stepson how to hotwire,” you mention under your breath. You love this story. It’s outlandishly bonkers. You’d have called bull and written it off if you didn’t know for a fact every dang word was true.

“Then he drove straight to that chicken farm, Y/N, and you know what he did next, yes you do: he rolled them windows down as he drove into one of the enclosures.”

“Grandma Jean was furious, Ricky, I never seen an old lady spit more fire.” Your words aren’t coming through with much emotion, but that one would’ve been said with an air mischief.

“And he spread chicken feed all in the interior—then ran off. I tell you, he was wasted on the football team. Should’ve run track.”

“I promise there’s a good point to this, honey,” Lori hushes to you quietly.

“Y/N, your brother then ditches the car and runs over three miles to get back to school—back to the dang cafeteria, no less—by the time the lunch bell rings. Legend.”

“Being fast runs in the family, you could say,” you remark. You and Glenn are the fastest in the group, don’t nobody forget it.

“So if you’re worried why he ain’t back yet? Don’t. What you said before, what Lori agreed with you about before, when I couldn’t see things clearly? You were right. Shane always comes back.” He smiles, exhausted. “He’s gonna make it back with what Carl needs. And Carl’s gonna be alright.”

___________________________________________________

He’s not alright. He’s worse, he’s so much fucking worse and it’s completely dark outside and Shane isn’t back.

Carl just looks so small and pale on that bed.

No one is talking anymore. There’s nothing good to say about what’s happening, no silver lining, no scrap of something to hold onto for hope. Shane and Otis should have been back well over an hour ago at the latest.

The despair contorts into a familiar, all-encompassing numbness.

Shane is not coming back. Hopefully, he went quickly and with little pain. In an almost mechanical way, you go through a checklist. Shane is dead, and Carl will be soon. T-Dog will most likely follow within a day or so, and if we find Sophia, she will be found either dead or walking with them. Then Andrea will probably find a way to end her life relatively soon, and Carol will obviously be a suicide concern as well. And though you’ve been vehemently against entertaining those thoughts for yourself ever since the outbreaks...well…

When you notice two figures walk through the doorway, you don’t pay any mind. You’re in your darkness, busy with your checklist.

Until your eyes briefly flit up and you’re blurting out “Teddy?”

T-Dog is...right there. He’s standing in the doorway with Glenn.

They’re here? “Glenn?”

“Hey.”

Before you know it, you’re out of your seat and stumbling over, oblivious to any pain or injury you have as you squeeze them both as hard as somebody can wearing a sling. “Sophia?” you whisper.

T-Dog avoids eye contact and Glenn’s shoulders fall, which is enough to tell you.

The two of them appear struck blank as they look at Carl on the bed and offer what support they could to Lori and Rick.

“Um. We’re here for you, okay?”

“Whatever you need.”

Rick can manage a nod in acknowledgment, Lori quietly utters “Thank you.”

You catch Maggie’s eyes in the doorway behind them and point to T-Dog’s arm as you join them in walking down the hall. She motions for Patricia to come with you all and leads the way to the table in the main room.

“Teddy, your arm,” you breathe. He’s up and walking, obviously, but he looks like shit. “Did Dale check it for you? Any striated veins? Fever? Spasms?” You’re peeling off the bandage as fast as you can with one hand until Patricia takes over, upon which you turn to Glenn and ask “How’s his mental state? He actin’ normal?”

“Doing better, believe it or not,” T-Dog answers for himself.

Better? How? “Miss Patricia, it got sliced on this sharp part of a busted car. I-I cleaned it best I could but it still got infected.” And there you go again trying to hold back the waterworks. Good Lord, if you had an apple for every time you started crying today, you’d have a whole damned tree by now.

Maggie gestures to the table. “Check out what they brought with them. Finally some good news, I’d say,” she hints, pointing to where...what are those pill bottles?

You wince as the stitches on your abdomen bump against the chair when you clamber over to snatch one up. Doxycycline, 100 mg tablets.

Doxycycline.

Doxycycline?

Those are antibiotics. Those are heavy-duty antibiotics. “This...this ain’t even the generic stuff, this is the primo – oh, Moses, these were Merle’s.”

Somewhat entertained, T-Dog responds with a begrudging “Mmhm.”

“Daryl wanted us to let you know he forgot all about these,” Glenn says, holding a mug of something warm. “They, um, were in the bike’s saddlebags.”

T-Dog’s gonna live.

Daryl just saved T-Dog’s life again. And probably Carl’s, he’ll need an antibiotic most likely and holy shit Daryl just saved T-Dog’s life! Again!

This is...this is – holy shit, this is more than just a scrap to keep you afloat, this is a bonafide fucking lifeboat! Next time you see that mangy hick, you’re gonna hug him so hard. Hell, you could kiss him!

“You okay?”

“Happy tears this time, Maggie,” you cry back. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

“Theodore, this was cleaned well, but I’m gonna have to stitch it up to keep it that way,” Patricia then tells him as she begins sanitizing the area.

“You’re saying you took one of these already?” you have to repeat, still sniffling and in disbelieving, happy shock that T-Dog isn’t on death’s door from blood poisoning.

“Yeah, already took a dose. You shoulda seen it before. Didn’t look too good.”

“It got real bad then?”

“All the things you was worried about,” he admits to you with a snort.

Patricia efficiently readies the needle, dons gloves, and positions T-Dog’s arm so she can work. Maggie is holding his hand on his injured arm to keep it steady and to give him something to hold onto if it gets too painful.

You grab the little emesis basin from the kit and hold it ready, then pull off your sling to take his other hand into yours. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

“Are stitches really that bad without no painkillers?” he checks with Patricia, brows lowered at the fact that both yourself and Maggie are holding his hands.

“It ain’t pleasant. Y/N knows better. Had some earlier.”

“The hell happened to you, Y/N?”

“Dude, you okay?” Glenn pipes in.

“Ain’t nothing, just tryin’ to get more street cred,” you brush off. You only just stopped crying and feel too happy to delve into how when Carl was shot, a small bullet fragment got you as well. “Stitches feel sorta like a fiery tugging. You might could get nauseated, too, that’s why we got this thing,” you mention, gesturing with the basin.

“It’ll be about 15 of them altogether,” Patricia lets him know before starting the first one. “Make as much noise as you need to, but keep this arm still. If you feel yourself about to get sick, Y/N’s got the container there for you.”

T-Dog’s breath hitches when she begins. The swelling from the infection must be making the pain even worse. Attentively, you watch her technique so you can learn.

Patricia is breezing on through them, thank goodness for T-Dog’s sake. “You got here right in time, this couldn’t go untreated much longer.”

At that, you rest your head on T-Dog’s and offer up another thank you.

“‘Merle Dixon,’” she reads, casually looking at the bottle. “Is that your friend with the antibiotics?”

Glenn answers for him, and very politely. “No ma’am, Merle’s no longer with us. Daryl gave us those, his brother.”

“Not sure I’d call him a friend,” T-Dog grunts out in pain.

“You’d best mean Merle, now, Theodore,” you lightly scold, even as you’re leaning your head again his. “I think Daryl considers you a friend, believe it or not.”

“He what now?”

Patricia looks more relaxed and amused than you’ve seen her all day when she cuts in “He’s your friend today. This doxycycline may have just saved your life.”

“Daryl’s your new best friend, admit it,” you snicker in his ear, grinning wide while tears of relief, joy, and you-don’t-even-know-anymore slide down your cheeks.

“You know what Merle was takin’ it for?” Patricia inquires.

The innocence in the way Glenn delivers “The clap,” makes you cough and subsequently wince because of those abdominal stitches you have. Then the way he clears his throat, blushes, and awkwardly rewords it to Maggie “Um, v-venereal disease. That’s what...Daryl said...” makes you crack up and simultaneously moan in discomfort right along with T-Dog.

Unfortunately for your stitches, “I’d say Merle’s clap was the best thing to ever happen to you,” being so dryly delivered by Patricia makes matters worse so you just let your laughter out.

“I’m really trying not to think about that,” T-Dog blurts out in response, holding back a shudder as he groans in pain.

You affectionately lean your head on his again and excuse yourself, one hand pressed over your bandage. “You best get to praising, T-Dog, how’s this for the Almighty using all things for good?” you tease him as you leave.

_______________________________________________________

Glenn follows you out to the front porch. Together, you two lean on the railing and let out an exhale.

“Thank you for bringin’ him here in one piece, man.”

He’s staring out into the dark fields. “Once Daryl remembered the pills, it was the only thing we could think of doing. He um, he wanted to make sure you were okay, too. Phrased it ‘going postal?’”

“We had a talk about that a few days ago,” you explain. Daryl is a good man, isn’t he? 

“That poor kid, man. His poor parents. And the guy who shot him, like, he must be...” Glenn shakes his head. “He must hate himself.”

“Otis. He’s out there right now, put his life on the line to save him. Shane’s with him.”

“This all couldn’t have come at a worse time, dude. It’s like that thing we talked about, bad things in threes? I guess that the Greenes are here is a silver lining or something, but like.” He sighs heavily and seems to well up. “It was both kids. Why did it have to be both kids?”

The weight of the situation settles itself back down on your shoulders, but it seems easier to carry now. Maybe it’s because you feel stronger.

After all, that one little scrap you’d begged for to keep you going turned into a four-course dinner; Merle contracting gonorrhea turned into T-Dog not dying of sepsis? Go figure. When you see Daryl again, you have no idea how you will possibly be able to convey your thanks.

“So ‘Greene’ is their last name,” you think out loud. After a pause, you quietly check “How’s Carol?” as you pull your sling back on. On second thought, you keep taking it off anyway, so you instead hang it off your arm for when you can actually keep it on.

Exhausted, Glenn mumbles back “How do you think?”

“I don’t want to think, man. Must be the worst possible feelin’ in the world when it’s your child.”

Seeing your hand by your ribs, he asks with concern “Shoot, you didn’t rip them or anything, right? The stitches?”

“Nah, they just smart a bit whenever I move.” You check Dale’s watch then squint at the horizon, hoping to see the headlights indicating that Shane and Otis are on their way.

Nothing.

Suddenly, Glenn announces “Dude. I’m gonna try praying, okay? I know it’s not magic, but anything I can do to help is—this is all just—” He bows his head and sits down in the porch rocker. You stay quiet to let him gather his thoughts. “So, you once told me it’s just like...talking, right?”

“Just like it, it’s a relationship. Do you, um, do you want privacy, or company for it, Glenn?”

“I might cry, so...alone this time, I think. First time and all.”

“I find it easier that way, too,” you murmur. Leaving him to it, you give him a side-hug and mention “Maggie might will come out to check on you, she’s good like that,” before heading back inside.

T-Dog is still at the table, stitches all finished, and Jimmy is sitting with him.

“How many you get in the end?”

He holds up his arm on display. “Lucky number thirteen, Y/N. At least I ain’t superstitious.”

You head back to Carl’s room to find Rick and Lori sitting on the floor in the hallway. Delicately, you avoid eye contact and sidestep around them. “Any changes, Dr. Greene?”

“More of the same.” He holds onto the stethoscope around his neck and peers at you. “How are you faring? You look as if a weight has come off your shoulders, although you’ve taken that sling off. Any good news from your two friends?”

Looking up, you smile and shake your head in disbelief of how much more manageable things feel. “They found doxycycline. And the one who was showing signs of sepsis earlier isn’t anymore after taking his first dose.”

“That is very good news.”

“Felt like being tossed a lifesaver in the middle of a stormy ocean,” you happily admit. “Would you like to step out for a rest, sir? You haven’t had one for a wh—”

—Carl’s coughing.

Oh my God, Carl’s coughing and his eyes are open, he’s looking all around! “Lori!” you yelp, but she’s already at his bedside and cupping his face in her hands.

“Hey, buddy,” you whisper in disbelief.

“Where am I?”

Lori can’t respond, she’s too happy. Rick is all smiles, too, as he says “Hey, little man. That’s Hershel. We’re in his house. You had an accident, alright?”

“But you’re gonna have a mighty cool scar, munchkin,” you tell him with a kiss on his forehead.

He’s still taking in the room as he looks down at his belly. “It-it hurts, a lot.”

“Oh baby, I know, I know, baby,” Lori coos.

Carl’s eyes lock onto her. Then the corners of his mouth turn up and his face alights. “You should have seen it.”

“The what?”

“The deer.”

Your vision blurs with tears again and you cover your face to let out a sob of both relief and guilt. Heck, it hurts your minor abdominal injury to do so, so you can’t imagine what that poor kid is going through.

But looking around the room, you’re in good company. Even Hershel’s eyes are glistening. Today was a nightmare, and now it feels like you’ve woken up. T-Dog’s healthy and Carl is awake! He’s not crying in pain, he’s smiling!

“It was so pretty, Mom. It was so close! I’ve never been—”

Never been what? Hello?

At first, you think he’s pausing to figure out what he wants to say. Never been what, Carl?

Then his eyes go blank.

Carl? Carl. Why did he stop talking? And why did his eyes just do that? And his muscles are tensing up, is he about to — “Dr. Greene?”

“Y/N, get the manual suction pump and go to the other side of the bed, quick,” he instructs.

Rick tries to get his attention. “Carl?”

“What’s happening?” Lori breathes.

Which is when Carl begins to shake.

Hands reach out to hold him, and the doctor immediately orders Rick and Lori, “Don’t. It’s a seizure.”

Within seconds, he’s removed the pillows from the bed and has guided Carl onto his side. “Y/N, be ready to use the pump once he goes limp.”

“You can’t stop it?” Lori cries out.

“He has to just go through it.”

The shaking of the bed and Lori’s sobs become the only sounds in the room. Please, please, please, please, please.

Then the shaking abruptly stops and Carl slumps onto his back.

Smoothly, you tilt his head back to the side and begin to suction the excess fluids from his mouth. He’ll need clean sheets and a change of boxers, too. “That was intense, huh, buddy? There we go, sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up,” you repeat in a soft voice. “You’re okay now, it’s over now.” Louder, you let Hershel know “No blood in the secretions.”

“Good.” After a brief exam, he states “His brain isn’t getting enough blood. His pressure is bottoming, he needs another transfusion.”

“Okay, I’m ready.” Rick is extending his arm where the IV catheter is still inserted.

“If I take any more out of you, your body could shut down. You could go into a coma or cardiac arrest.”

“You’re wasting time,” he warns.

Nothing else is said between them and you don’t look over to see what’s going on. Next, you become aware that Hershel is now on your side of the bed and has Rick sitting. They’re going through with another donation.

“Lori,” you utter, voice still soft. “In my bag under that chair? Baby wipes.” In silence, she finds them, and in silence, she and you clean off her son.

Patricia enters the room at some point with new sheets and another pair of undergarments, then enlists Lori to carefully and delicately move Carl so that fresh linens can be exchanged. There’s no blood on those either, which is a consolation.

His color turns a little better midway through the transfusion. Hershel has overtaken monitoring all vitals so you don’t know how much he’s improved, but he does comment out loud, “Looks like all that movement did not nick the other blood vessel. We’re beyond fortunate for that.”

Lori has been rubbing Carl’s neck in a broken daze. Patricia sits with her and wraps an arm around her for a while. You wander to the kitchen and bring your dish of leftovers and a bowl of pecans from the counter back to Rick and make him eat both in their entirety.

If it weren’t for T-Dog arriving at the house, standing and on the mend? That seizure would've been the last straw.

You don’t know what you would be doing right now, but you confess that some form of adverse action against yourself would be taking place.

But you aren’t. No, you’re still afloat, you’re with your family and are taking care of them—and are thinking clearly, more’s the miracle. You’d prayed and begged and bargained for a scrap, and were handed a whole-ass treasure chest. All thanks to the most unlikely circumstance of Daryl recalling his brother’s STD.

Whenever that redneck sumbitch gets here, you’re gonna hug him so damned hard. _________________________________________________________

Another 10 minutes have gone by.

Lori’s hand cramped from giving Carl a neck massage, now she’s hunched on the floor.

No Shane, no Otis, no respirator. But that’s okay...well, no, not ‘okay,’ but you can all get through it. This will pass and you will all get through it. You’ll make sure you all do.

“Rick? Y/N? What was Carl talking about? The deer?”

He’s still in his chair, hands on hers. “Before it happened, we were standing there in the woods. And this deer just crossed right in front of us. I swear it just planted itself there and looked Carl right in the eye. And I looked at Carl lookin’ at that deer and the deer looking right back at Carl.”

“He looked so innocent and happy, Lori, as if there were nothin’ bad in the world.”

“And that moment just...slipped away. It slipped away.”

“Yet that’s what he was talking about when he woke up. The good moment,” you remember. “Your sweet boy forgot all about his pain and fear and instead smiled and talked about the buck instead.”

“Not about getting shot, or about what happened at the church. He talked about somethin’ beautiful. Something living.” He leans in and looks at her with a tender pleading, so tender that you feel as if you’re intruding.

Lori bursts into tears when her husband soothes “There’s still a life for us, a place maybe like this. It isn’t all death out there. It can’t be. We just have to be strong enough after everythin’ we’ve seen to still believe that.” His tone alters to one of upset. “Why is it better for Carl to live, even in this world? He talked about the deer, Lori. He talked about the deer.”

“You make life worth living, punk,” you murmur as you press a kiss to his cold hand. You’re in the middle of monitoring his radial pulse, and it’s...that isn’t good.

That’s very bad, in fact.

Keeping your voice cool and neutral, you call, “Doctor?”

Patricia hurries in first, Hershel following.

Standing up too fast and swaying, Lori’s voice trembles when she asks, “Honey, what’s changing?”

“His pulse is pretty fast.” Way too fast. Please, please, please, please, please let us get through this.

“What does that mean?” Lori and Rick question.

“It means his body is working too hard,” Hershel answers. He’s got a silver pocket watch out as he counts Carl’s beats per minute. No one makes a sound.

When he releases Carl’s hand and tucks his pocket watch away, you realize you haven’t been breathing, either. “He’s still losing blood faster than we can replace it. And with the swelling in his abdomen, we can’t wait any longer. Or he’s going to slip away.”

Patricia beckons you to follow her, and leads you to the bathroom and you both wash your hands. “Scrub up to your elbows. If his parents consent, we’re doing the surgery now. The silver table in the hallway is sanitized,” she details to you. “We’ll bring it into the room first, then put gloves on.”

“Patricia! It’s time!” the doctor shouts.

A cold spills forth from your stomach and spreads through your veins. Please, please, please, please you beg, and for a moment, you don’t think you can handle it.

But a voice cuts through the dread. “Y/N, Patricia, you got this.”

T-Dog is looking at you from down the hall. The voice you were convinced you’d never hear again.

The icy cold in your chest eases and lessens as you help push the surgical table into Carl’s room. The panic and urgency in the room doesn’t drag you away in the current because you were given that anchor to keep you grounded. That mangy, confusing, wonderful hick pops into your head and you feel nothing but gratitude for a moment.

Hopefulness then takes over, as fearful as you still are.

With hope, you connect Carl’s IV fluids to the catheter, with hope, you move the lamp close to the table and remove the shade as Patricia directs. And when you’re in gloves and positioned beside Carl, ready to begin, you aren’t shaking anymore. You can handle whatever happens tonight. You’ll get through it, and will help the others get through it.

Hershel begins to scrub the area clean while Patricia preps some kind of rags. “Rick, Lori. You may want to step out.”

________________________________________________________

Headlights shine through the curtains as the sound of a truck pulling over the gravel driveway reaches your ears. Rick and Lori haven’t even left the room yet.

Rick is at the window in an instant. “Oh, God.” The hard lines of his face soften and he turns to bolt out the door.

“They’re back?” Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.

“Patricia, Y/N, you stay here with him,” is the last thing Hershel says as he rushes out with Rick and Lori.

Patricia clasps her hands and cries “Dear God. Oh my God, thank you. I feel like I can breathe again!” She’s laughing even while shedding tears of relief as she administers the sedative drip through the IV. “Okay, sweetpea, start to watch his respirations. They’ll be inside with either the machine or a bag-valve soon enough.”

You hear the doctor say something loudly outside, but neither of you even care to know why. You just look at each other and smile. Because they’re back! You know that your brother and Otis will have found something to help Carl stay breathing, there is zero doubt and no more fear.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you for bringing them back. Bringing my brother back. And...thank you for Daryl, okay? That’s he’s part of the group and in our lives. Okay?

Holy Moses, you can’t wait to see that redneck again.

[annab-nana]

hello! a request with colby where the reader pranks him by like getting hurt or something and he gets super worried and frantic until he realizes it’s fake and then he’s super relieved but kinda upset about it all

I think I did a blurb similar to this but the roles were reversed and the reader was concerned for Colby who was fake hurt so if you want to find that, you definitely can haha but here you go! I’m gonna do a headcanon for this because it’s easier and quicker for me to get out to you guys so I hope you like it :)

Tw: mentions of blood (it’s fake blood but still)

Prank Gone Wrong (or is it?)

The fans had been begging you to do a prank on Colby

I mean full on pleading for months and months

So finally you were going to give in

You searched the comment sections of the several videos that Colby had posted of his various pranks on you to find an idea of what to do

You found one video from a long time ago in the first trap house where Colby had pranked both you and Sam making you both think he was seriously hurt from falling down the stairs

You were in hysterics while checking over your bloodied boyfriend while his best friend tried to assess the situation and call 911

Katrina was there and she tried to comfort your crying body before someone tapped on your shoulder

Kat burst into giggles as you slapped at Colby’s chest when it hit you that this was all some joke

You pretty much gave Colby the cold shoulder for the rest of the day and he clung to your side trying to make it up to you for the rest of the day

And eventually you forgave him and let him cuddle you and hold you and kiss you to his heart’s content

Today it was your turn

You were going to show him exactly how you felt that day those few years ago

You were going to make him feel the fear, the way your heart dropped to the depths of your stomach, how it churned and you felt queasy, how you felt like you were going to lose the love of your life within seconds

Did it sound kinda bad? Yes but he did it to you so it couldn’t be that bad for you to do the same right?

So you conjured up a plan

You were going to be filming something with Jake and he needed you to help get the big blow up trap house dog back on top of the roof of the patio

The plan was you’d fall from the roof and onto the ground similarly to how Sam did when he broke his back but you and Jake had tried this several times and landing on the blow up dog is much safer than on the bean bags

So it was ready to go

You checked outside with Jake to make sure he had the dog ready and by the patio and had a camera rolling and you already had one filming the stairs area facing towards the living room and another in yours and Colby’s room

Once all seemed to be good, you started your intro with Jake

“Hey guys, so I know I’m not who you expected to see on this fine Friday but if you know Colby, you know he hasn’t figured out what he’s doing for this video so we’re gonna help him with a prank.”

“And this is the first major prank of this trap house I would say,” Jake added

“Yes, so if you remember in the old trap house, Colby pranked me and Sam and we thought he was going to die so why not do the same to him. That seems fair, doesn’t it Jake?”

“I’d say so, yes,” he grinned at you before explaining the plan to the viewers

“Yes I’ll land right there and it’s been tested so we know it’s safe. We don’t want anymore broken backs here I promise. So I’m gonna go upstairs to get onto the roof and I’ll see y’all in a few.”

With that, you scurried up the stairs to your shared room where Colby laid on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through his phone

“What are you doing sweetheart?” he asked when he saw you going towards the balcony

“On the roof to help Jake with a video,” you said as you skipped on over to the door

“Do you want me to help? I don’t want you to get hurt?”

Little did he know, that was the plan all along

“Um you can help Jake on the ground. He said he needed me on the roof for some reason but he’s right outside the patio.”

Colby got up after eyeing you oddly for a minute and left the room

“Okay Jake. Here I come,” you whispered when you got on the roof. “Now act like I got hurt.”

You hopped down onto the dog and slid off, laying on the ground

“Oh shit! Y/n, are you okay?” Jake yelled as he poured some of the fake blood you had gotten earlier by your head and in your hair to make it look like your head was bleeding. “Colby!”

You had your eyes shut when you heard the pounding footsteps of your boyfriend coming closer and then the sliding glass door opened

“Jake, what the fuck happened? I just saw her two second ago upstairs.” The fearful waver in his voice was highly evident and it broke your heart to hear but you didn’t show a sign of anything

“Sh-she just fell. I-I think she tripped,” Jake explained when you felt a presence next to your body

“Call 911!”

A shaky hand ran through your hair, pushing it out of the way from being in your face

“Y/n, baby, can you hear me?”

You let your eyes flutter open to meet the bright blues that gazed down upon you with such fear and sadness

“Hi love,” he cooed, “can you say something?”

“It hurts,” you murmured

“I know baby. Jake’s getting help. Don’t leave me okay?”

“What happened?” Sam’s voice broke out from next to y’all

Colby looked over at him with the saddest eyes you had ever seen and Sam’s softened right on the spot

“I’ll be right back.” And with that, the blond flew back in the house

“Colby?” you whispered shakily to really sell the fact that you were weakened by the blow to the head

His teary eyes immediately found yours and his fingers caressed at your face gently

“Yes angel, what is it? What do you need? I’m right here,” Colby spoke so softly, it was as if he would break you if he spoke any other way

“This... my head...” you started, taking deep breaths between your words

“I know, it hurts,” he tried to calm you but you shook your head then wincing as if the action caused you more pain

“No,” you breathed again, making sure to breathe slower with each minute. “This is... it’s all... a pr-”

“They’re on the way,” Jake’s words cut you off but it doesn’t slip past Colby

“What were you saying baby?”

“It’s all a prank,” you say completely normal and then show him a wide grin before wiping the lone tear that slipped out of his eye

“I’m back with a t- oh, you’re okay?” Sam questioned with a towel in hand as his eyes jumped from yours and Jake’s playful eyes to Colby’s eyes that were mixed of many different emotions

“Never better!” you chirped while grabbing the towel from Sam’s hand and using it to get the fake blood out of your hair

“I’d say that went pretty well,” Jake stated as he held a hand up for you to high five which you gladly clapped your hand against his

“It was a prank?” The confused blond inquired and you and Jake nodded

“Y/n pulled her first prank!” Jake congratulated, pulling you into a side hug

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you grinned at the boy before kneeling down next to Colby. “Are you okay, bubba? You’ve been awful quiet?”

“I wanna hug you but I’m also mad at you,” he pouted, playfully crossing his arms like a child

“Aww Colbs,” you muttered before wrapping your arms around the boy and pulling him into your chest. Your hand found his hair and comfortingly played with the strands

You looked up to Jake and poked out your bottom lip, showing him that you felt bad for the prank you had pulled when Colby’s arms tightened around you

“I’m okay, sweetheart. I’m right here,” you whispered in his ear

“Yeah I know and here you will stay. I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

Taglist: @curlyhairedbrock @brockdolan @kikixfandoms @rebelemilu @starrybrock (strike through means I couldn’t tag you)

Click here to be added to my taglist

[thathelplesshomeschooler]

humans are space orcs (with magic!) *skillz to pay the billz pt 1*

5wow i have been gone for a hot minute but i think i’m gonna tryn write more on here, but school’s starting up again soon so we’ll see how that actually goes. anyway, without further ado, here is another short story or sum, based on how some people can cook, and how some absolutely cannot

also i had to resist so hard from writing that’s what she said at the end so i will have to console myself with writing it up here.

***

The VIV Narrtor was docked at a WayCenter Station for repairs after a gamma burst from a neutron star had fried nearly all the sensors. As it was the humans had decided to designated this as their “vacation” and had put their money together and were renting a small abode for the duration of the repairs. Not wanting to miss out on any possible research, Drerzii had insisted that he and Tygeria rent the room across the street from the humans. 

And so Tygeria found herself the windowsill with a pair of “binoculars” as the humans called it, in her hand. Currently the humans weren’t doing much, in fact it appeared that only one of them was up and active. Uhris, clad only in his undergarments, was in the sustenance preparation room, making ready the pot of dark, steaming liquid that the humans drank every morning. She and Drerzii had suspected it to be either some sort of religious ceremony or a necessity of their species, much like how the dular always had to eat from a plant native to their planet before they ate anything else or they would die. However, neither of them had mustered the courage to ask the humans. If it was indeed a private matter, it might not be appreciated if they suspected they were being studied so thoroughly. And an angry human was not something Tygeria wanted to see. 

As she observed, the rest of the humans slowly arose from their slumber, except for Taurus. Being the largest of them all, Tygeria suspected that he likely needed more rest than the rest of them in order to move his mass around. She noted her thoughts on a holotablet. 

When she resumed her observations, she noted that Uhris was preparing sustenance, and quite a large amount. He must be feeding the entire group. It was strange she thought, since his records didn’t indicate that he had been trained in sustenance preparation, but he seemed quite adept in his actions. Perhaps he had trained in secret, hoping one day to be employed as a sustenance prepare. These “chefs” apparently were quite coveted in any group. 

The group spent most of the morning hours indoors, but what they were doing exactly Tygeria couldn’t say exactly. They were certainly enjoying themselves at the very least. Around midday Uhris and Enara walked out of the building. Tygeria leaned forward, her interested piqued. “Drerzii, Drerzii! They’re headed this way.” Her carapace tingled with mixed fear and excitement. They’d been found out. Surely the humans would be angry at being spied on. Drerzii rose from his resting state. 

“My dear Tygeria, you surely must be mistaken. The humans-” He stopped as he peered out the window, “Oh. You’re quite right Tygeria. But do calm yourself, I doubt they mean us any harm. Likely their simply curious. Their species’ natural inclement is towards curiosity rather than violence; however, I suppose we should be prepared. There, I have a clear line of communication to command should anything happen.” 

Tygeria appreciated his actions, but her carapace still tingled. A minute later there was a knock on the door. She walked quickly across the room and opened the door. Uhris and Enara stood in the entryway. 

Uhris switched his hand from scratching the back of his head to giving them a little wave. “Uh hey. Anne pointed out that you guys were staying across the street from us, and we all agreed that we couldn’t just let you guys stay here.” It was exactly as Tygeria feared, the humans were angry about being spied on. Drerzii’s flashing colors echoed her fear. “So we- Drerzii you okay? You’re putting on a whole light show my dude.”

“Oh, yes, I’m quite fine. For the time being at least.”

“Erm, yeah, whatever that means. Anyway, we’re about to have lunch, so we wanted to know if you guys wanted to join us. We might do something later, but we haven’t decided what yet.”

Tygeria lowered her head so it was on eye-level with the human. It didn’t make much of a difference to her, what with her infrared vision, but apparently it was a human gesture. “You don’t intend us any harm?”

The two humans looked on in confusion. “N-no? I mean why would we want to hurt you? We just wanted to know if you wanted to eat with us, but if you don’t that’s fine too.”

Tygeria was taken aback. Did they not know? “Because we were obs-”

“Of course we would be delighted to enjoy you for a meal. I unfortunately am unable to consume at the current moment, but I would be delighted to participate in your fellowship.”

“Oh. Great, well you guys can head on over then. Enara and I are just going to get some groceries, but we’ll be back in just a few minutes. The door’s unlocked so just head right in”

And so the humans headed off toward the provisions center of the station while Tygeria and Drerzii made their way to the humans rooms. Upon entering the room they were met with ferocious laughter. The terrifying sound of mirth coming from all three of the humans. Taurus, who apparently was in the middle of a story glanced over towards the door, his predatory eyes moving by pure instinct. He motioned with his hand. “Come on over guys, I was just telling them about when I managed to get a screw jammed up my nose.” It took a few minutes of recap for Tygeria and Drerzii to understand the situation, but it was incomprehnsible why the humans found it so funny.

Uhris and Enara arrived shortly after the story was finished. Both had bags filled with consumables in both hands. Taurus hooted from across the room “Uwu, y’all look like a couple, walking in with your groceries.”

Uhris breathed heavily through his nose, what Tygeria believed was called a “snort.” “If I was Jason maybe we’d be a couple.” At that comment Jason started coughing and Enara’s face grew red. Perhaps, Tygeria thought, this has something to do with them ‘liking’ each other.

“Anyway, we’re going to get started on lunch. Y’all just sit tight. Also Tygeria you should be able to eat this, we got food that’s edible for you too.” She clicked her thanks.

It was very considerate that the humans would use sustenance that she would be able to ingest as well. She was, however, concerned. Among her kind she was known to have rather specific preferences. However she couldn’t risk offending the humans by not eating any sustenance they prepared. But as they worked in the kitchen, her olfactory senses began to tingle. The smells of whatever it was they were making piqued her curiosity. How could one prepare food so that it would have such a smell? Was this some form of communication between human. Perhaps it was just a byproduct of whatever processes they were using to prepare the sustenance. 

She peered over to see both Uhris and Enara moving efficiently through the kitchen, handing each others utensils and ingredients as they worked. Occasionally one of them would take a small utensil and taste some of the sustenance, then make a small adjustment to the ratios of ingredients. Sometimes they would ask each others opinions or hand something off to the other. Tygeria was astonished at the ease with which they hurried through their movements. Uhris placed his creation in the heating unit and turned to the rest of them. “Alright, so this should take just a few minutes to bake, and then we’ll be good to go.”

Taurus set out dishes for everyone to eat on, except for Drerzii, who had declined on account of his metabolic processes not being in service for the time being. Once Uhris had deemed the time to be right, he carefully pulled the sustenance from the heating chamber and placed it upon the table. Enara came from the kitchen and placed what she had prepared next to Uhris’. “Just wait for it to cool down and then go ahead and dig in.”

With a laugh Jason raised his hand, “So what exactly is it that we’re eating.”

Uhris bared his teeth, then quickly changed his expression to be less frightening for Tygeria and Drerzii. “What we have here is a magherita flatbread, made completely by hand, with non-native ingredients. I subbed uthara for tomatoes for both the garnish and the sauce, and used tehari cream instead of cheese. And the crust is, actually I don’t know what it is, it just said it could be substituted on my holotablet. But Enara, tell them what you made.”

“What we have here is a fruit salad, also made with ‘non-native’ ingredients, as Uhri put it. And I put in some of the spices they had at the compound for some added flavor.”

Jason laughed, “So basically we’re having alien pizza and alien fruit salad? This is really gonna be the test guys.” With that he took out the first section of the ‘flatbread’ and took a bite. His eyes opened wide and he made a sound deep in his throat. With a mouth full of food he said, “Oh yeah, thish ish the sh*t you guys.” 

What exactly that meant, Tygeria wasn’t sure, but the rest of the humans began consuming the sustenance, and so Tygeria took one of the squares and took a bite of it herself. Her carapace tingled with delight. The flavors burst in her mouth, sweet and salty combining perfectly. She hummed with delight, this was beyond what she would have imagined the humans to be capable of. She then took a portion of the ‘fruit salad’ and ate some of that as well. It complimented the flatbread in a way that she didn’t know was even possible. She quickly secured another few servings, making sure she would have enough for later on. She would have to savor the taste whenever she had the chance. But she couldn’t help but to hum even more as she continued to feed on it. 

“Well it looks like we have one very happy customer.” Uhri said.

* * *

The rest of the day the group simply stayed indoors and talked about a myriad of subjects. Enara’s skill in the kitchen had come about simply because she liked to cook as a past time. It was, as she said, “A pleasure to see my work put smiles on faces. And even better if I can make the food healthy.” Uhri had apparently worked in his family’s business of making food for special events, something called catering, and had picked up his skills from his years helping around the kitchen. He volunteered to make another meal for dinner, but before he could start Anne stopped him. 

She stepped into the kitchen and turned to him “It’s been a while since I’ve made anything for anyone else, but I’d like to try to make something for you guys.”

Uhri shrugged, “Knock yourself out.” Tygeria was startled by this. Why would Anne hit herself so hard as to knock her unconscious? She was about to raise her concern when Uhri spoke, “I didn’t mean it literally. It’s a human saying, kind of like good luck, or go right ahead.” 

She hummed her acknowledgement, but was still confused as to why anyone would say this. 

Taurus paused, “Wait Anne, I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Well I did live by myself for two years in college. And I got sick of instant ramen after the first semester, so I had to learn.” 

This made sense to Tygeria, humans apparently had to fend for themselves once they reached a certain age. Their parents would assist but for the most part they were on their own. Next to her Drerzii trumpeted with delight. “Why, Tygeria I have been fastidiously taking notes of this whole occasion, and I would like to mull over them with you later. We can see what our thoughts are, but this entire time has been so enlightening.”

A few short minutes later Anne huffed out of the kitchen a steaming platter in her hands. The smell coming from it was just as strong as the one coming from the earlier dishes, but not quite so delectable in nature. Anne plopped it down in the middle of the table and introduced the dish. “It’s a bean casserole, or at least as close as I could get to one with what we have.”

Jason was again the first one to take a bite. He slowly pulled his utensil out of his mouth. Anne beamed, “So, what do you think?”

Jason shook slightly, “It’s definitely something else. You’ve got a real flavor there I’ll tell you that.” He timidly placed another portion in his mouth, shutting his eyes as he did so. 

The others began to eat, and had similar reactions. Slow, and usually taking a drink of water after every bite they had. It was a completely different reaction to what they had before. Before she could take a bite, Drerzii whispered in her ear, “Tell me what it tastes like.” 

So she  put a large portion on her plate, and another large portion in her mouth. If it was anything like the bliss she had tasted earlier she would have to start eating the humans food more often. Unfortunately, it was nothing like what she had eaten earlier. It was as if whatever the flavor was meant to be had become evil and was attacking her mouth. And the way it felt, it was incredibly dry, parching her mouth. She quickly grabbed a cup of water and downed it, trying to suppress the taste and texture. She turned to Drerzii and spoke quietly, not wanting to offend Anne, “It’s awful. I would not recommend trying it.” She looked back to see Anne staring directly at her. Her predatory hearing must have heard Tygeria’s report. 

“Is it actually that bad? I know I might have fudged some of the spices, but was it actually that bad?” 

Tygeria started to panic. How could she tell the human that it was possibly the worst thing she had ever tasted? Humans were easily offended when it came to things they made themselves. It wouldn’t do for her to insult the food. But she could thing of no other honest alternative. Right as she was about to confirm, Taurus spoke. “To be honest Anne, it’s not great. It’s pretty dry and you overdid it with the flavoring. But trust me it’s not as bad as my grandmothers cooking. That was a culinary nightmare. I can at least eat this.” 

Anne nodded, liquid gathering at the bottoms of her eyes. Tygeria tilted her head, she had heard that liquid spilled from humans eyes when they got emotional, and the action even had a name. So she asked, “Are you going to cry?”

Instantly Anne stood straight, and shook her head. “Throw the food away. I’ll just go out and grab something pre-made.” With that she dashed out the door. 

“Did I say something wrong?”

“I mean, yeah, you aren’t really supposed to ask people if they’re going to cry.” Taurus said, “But at least we don’t have to finish the food. God it was disgusting, I thought I was going to throw up.” 

Enara struck him on the shoulder. “Don’t say that, she tried her best.”

“I mean am I wrong?”

Enara raised her hand as if to cuff him again, but slowly let her arm down. “No, not really, it was pretty terrible. I’m going to go find her, but let’s do try to cheer her up when she comes back.” And with that Enara rose and left the room. As soon as she had Uhris spat out a slimy, semi-chewed portion of the food. “That shit was nasty, I couldn’t bring myself to swallow.”

Tygeria wondered how any human could take the risk of attempting to prepare sustenance of the potential for disaster was this, this massacre of the tastebuds.

[bump1nthen1ght]

Pack Tactics (Werewolf x Reader)

Pairing: Fem!Reader/Male!Werewolf

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Established Couple, Angst with a happy ending

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2896 words

Summary: You are in a wonderful relationship with your sweet partner, Gray. But this far into the relationship, you’ve yet to tell him you have no intentions ever of having kids. You can’t help but wonder, how will your child-loving werewolf boyfriend will react?

Request: I live for very specific comfort! No pressure if this doesn’t inspire you or if you just don’t want to write it obvi.... but could I have a f!reader x m!werewolf where the reader is 100% sure she doesn’t want to have kids ever never ever in any capacity and is worried about how her werewolf bf is going to react, worried she’ll be dumped or something (ya know cause idk I feel like werewolves are built with a breeding kink and like into the whole having a lot of pups) there can be smut if you want!! I love me some dramatic angst comfort :)))))))

A/N: Sorry this took so long y’all, school and stuff has been kicking my ass. But writing this sweet little fic has been a nice reprieve from my work. Hope you enjoy!

“Alright, I’ll get the chicken, the asparagus, and the pasta. You’ve got the wine and the dessert?”

“Sure thing.”

The two of you nod, Gray stepping away from the grocery cart before you call out to him.

“And not one of those huge tubs of ice cream.”

Gray emits a dramatic whine, pouting.

“But the big one is 25 cents cheaper than those little pints. It’s practically free!”

You furrow your brow and pat him on the shoulder.

“Not if we don’t finish them, they aren’t. Now go.” Gray rolls his eyes, clutching his heart and throwing his head back. You playfully push him, walking away with the grocery cart and towards the deli section. You can see the top of Gray’s wild brown hair as he moves into the next aisle, his 6’5” form towering over all the little old ladies who usually crowd the store.

You’re browsing the chicken, trying to decide between 2 breasts or a full rotisserie, when a familiar sound reaches you.

“Oh! If it isn’t ____.” You forcibly paint a smile, fingers automatically clenched around the stellafoam package as you turn to see your next door neighbor Mrs. Star. Her teased, bleached blonde hair teeters on top of her head, bobbing back and forth with the clack of her neon blue heels. While you can respect the 60-year old for digging her feet in and refusing to update her wardrobe from the 80’s, her pension for gossip is a little less admirable. “Shocked to see you out and about, what with that big ol boyfriend of yours.” She says, blue eyeshadow crinkling into a wink and nudging you with your elbow. You wheeze a bit, quickly covering it with a laugh. “Back in our honeymoon phase, Richard and I barely left the bedroom. And he was half-way balding back then, not the babe-a-rama you got going over there.” Mrs. Star’s laugh reaches a pitch almost too high for your human ears to pick up, maybe even giving Gray 2 aisles over a headache.

“Well, y’know, gotta keep our energy up.” You wince, immediately berating yourself for that comment. Mrs. Star throws her hand up in a “oh, you” gesture, letting out another half-whistle half-screeching chuckle.

“Oh I do, honey, I do.” She sends you another dramatic wink, which you return with a shaky smile. The corner of your cart bumps into hers as you begin walking along the meat aisle, trying to forcibly end this interaction. But Mrs. Star pulls off an impressive turn with her cart and strolls alongside you. She does little to hide her wandering eyes, trying to piece together any juicy info from your groceries. “So, are you two trying for kids yet?”

The wheels squeal to a sudden stop, forcing you to choke on your saliva as the shopping cart’s handle digs into your stomach. You keep your gaze locked on the frozen steaks  and turkeys, already way past the chicken you meant to grab.

“Uhhh, no. We’re not really in the phase of our relationship yet.”

Mrs. Star clicks her tongue, pressing her hand to her chest in a show of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, dearie. Old habits you see, whenever a new couple moves in together I assume they’re halfway to the wedding already. You young kids like to take it slow, huh?”

You nod, hastily grabbing a package of buffalo wings, hoping for an excuse to escape this conversation.

Mrs. Star continues to walk by you, her cart blocking off any convenient means to leave unless you significantly pick up her speed. Her eyes glance over the sweats sat in a display in the center of the aisle, humming a small tune.

The end of the aisle is approaching, you’re almost home free! You ready your feet to book it with an excuse, but Mrs. Star clears her throat and begins to speak.

“Now dearie, I don’t mean to pry-”

What do you call these last 3 minutes, Star?

“But I’d at least pop on a ring on that finger soon. Someday someone’s going to snatch that boy up like a piece of meat, saying all the right things. Men got all those suspicions about over-the-hill pregnancies, his eyes might start wandering. That’s how my first divorce went, so I should know.”

You pull your cart to a stop, breathe catching as you look at Mrs. Star, shocked. You can handle some inappropriate questions, but to question your boyfriend’s loyalty and insulting your relationship is crossing another line. Your brows furrow with a simmering anger, your cheeks heating up as you're ready to let loose.

“Well, Mrs. Star, if you must know I have the most wonderful boyfriend on this side of the planet, and unlike your deadbeat first husband, he’s as loyal as they can be.” Mrs. Star looks at you, eyes widened and right hand halfway to grab a pack of oreos. You huff, pushing your cart away from hers and towards the cash register. Right before you leave her sight, you turn back to her with a simpering smirk. “Have a great day, Mrs. Star!”

Your heart is heaving with anger, prepping a rant to Gray about the horrible interaction you just had. On the other side of the store, you spot Gray, his curly hair all tussled, holding a large Rosé and a package of ice cream sandwiches. Just the sight of his back calms you a bit, excited for some delicious food and late-night cuddles. You jog a little towards him, but slow down when you see him crouch down, looking at something hidden from your sight.

You turn your shopping cart slightly, trying to peer behind his massive form, and freeze.

Gray’s sticking out his tongue, pushing up his nose, and making many more silly gestures to a baby in a stroller. The baby laughs, it’s chubby cheeks bright red as Gray blows another raspberry, thrashing its arms up and down with joy. The dad is laughing at Gray’s antics, leaning down and patting his kid on the head.

Gray promptly stands up, sending another big smile to the kid, before waving goodbye. The six-month-old waves back, uncoordinated and decidedly adorable. Gray laughs, turning away and walking towards you.

Your feet feel cemented to the floor, heart down in your stomach.

He’s a natural, you think, nausea building up in your throat.

Gray was the oldest of eight, not a large number for a werewolf family. You adored them, and they you, but Gray had a way of dealing with his youngest siblings. Whether it was letting them climb all over him like a jungle gym, or attending imaginary tea parties, Gray was a pro. He was the guy to cram himself into a tiny chair at the kids table, eating tiny cookies and cracking jokes. ‘Dad’ seemed to be stamped into his very being, the cuddly werewolf with a love of children. He’s any mother-in-law’s dream.

But all those sweet things turn sour when you think about what Mrs. Star said. Gray, moving on without you.

Gray’s eyes light up when he sees your cart, jogging over and holding up the bottle of wine like a prize.

“Hey!” He says, quickly sliding an arm around your waist and giving you a peck on the cheek. “I got your favorite, and those delicious mint-chocolate sandwiches.”

His happy voice and comforting touch help abate whatever it is your feeling, but the way Gray’s brow furrows tells you your  discomfort is present in your eyes. “Is everything okay?” His large hand comes up and rubs your shoulder. You give him a shaky smile, fighting away negative thoughts with a bat.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

---------

Wet fur presses up against your bare neck as you lazily stir the boiling water, Gray’s shifted muzzle now snug in the crook of your shoulder, the white flecks across his dark fur peeking into your periphery. Your free hand instinctively goes back to scratch between his ears, causing him to let out a satisfied huff, hot air blowing across your chest.

“That smells good baby.”

“It’s just salt and water Gray. The pasta’s barely al dente.”

Gray laughs, turning his head  slightly so he can press a small kiss onto your cheek.

“You could make even that taste delicious, ____”

You dramatically roll your eyes, pushing away his chin as he continues to peck and nip at your neck. After showering Gray always made sure to rub in some cherry-blossom leave-in conditioner into his fur. The artificial perfumes just lightly touch your senses, but the mental connection they have to Gray make them smell that much sweeter. You turn and give him a quick kiss on the lips, patting his shoulder once more.

“Do you mind setting the table? Maybe get started on those messy dishes?”

“No problem.” Gray mumbles, reluctantly pulling away from you and tugging up the towel that hangs loose on his hips. He barely needs to reach for your fancy plates on the top shelf, his chest muscles flexing and bicep taut. Even with his thick fur, you can see the bone of his clavicle which accentuates his long neck.

God, he’s so hot.

You think, smirking a bit as you continue stirring.

And all mine.

You hum, but the cheery mood you’re in quickly sours once you remember your conversation with Mrs. Star. That small seed of doubt seems to grow and leech from your chest.

2 years into this relationship and the two of you have only danced around the conversation of the future. You of course had agreed on living together, what your career paths looked like, even the potential of getting married in a couple years, but never kids. As two 20-somethings, you felt like you had all the time in the world.

But the thing was, you didn’t really need all the time in the world.

You didn't want kids. Even with your family or your neighbors needing that your opinion “might change some day,” you were confident in that decision. Not that you hated them, you just could never picture yourself being a mom. A fun aunt, maybe, but never a mom. It wasn’t even a point of contention in your own mind; The picture of you, your partner, and maybe a couple of pets thriving into your elders was bliss enough.

You sneak a glance to Gray, now clothed and back turned to you as he sets the table. He’s diligently folding the napkins into  fun shapes, a ritual he does every date night. From the hole in his jeans you can see his tail wagging, content as he hums to the low radio playing on the window sill.

A smile crawls onto your face, a small giggle escaping you as you watch Gray’s hips bob to the beat, silently mouthing the words. You snort as he does a dramatic little shoulder shift, Gray’s head whipping back towards the kitchen as you throw your hand over your mouth.

“What, don't you like my moves?” Gray says, shimmering his shoulders again, a large grin across his face.

“They could use some work, Kevin Bacon.” Gray clutches his chest, throwing his head back in mock pain.

“You wound me. After all these years, you would cut me so deep?”

“Sure would.” You turn back towards the simmering pasta, setting the wooden spoon on the rim and brushing your hands on your jeans. “Oof!” You squeak as you yanked away, Gray wrapping his arms around your waist, twirling you in a stumbling circle.

“And how ‘bout now, m’lady?” Gray simpers, eyebrow cocked. Your hands slap his chest as you laugh. He lets your feet back down on the floor, but keeps his arms locked around your waist. The two of you slow dance to the beat, and when the chorus hits, Gray gives his worst rendition possible. You bemoan and feign plugging your ears, but find yourself singing along anyway.

Everything about Gray is warm and bright, from his goofy grin to his excitable tail to his two left feet. He adds that pep of energy to your daily routine, pulling you out of an exhausting cycle for a quick jog to the beach or an episode of your favorite drama. Gray fills out all of those little spaces, makes them a little less gray.

Your head rests against his chest, feeling the fur through the fabric of his t-shirt as the two of you sway back and forth.

You want it to stay this way.

But that pestering weed squeezes your heart again, forcing images of Gray with a kid on his shoulders. Showing up to little-league football games with a big cooler and a “#1 dad” T-shirt. All those little moments, all without you.

You can’t fight the deep sigh, pressing your face even deeper into Gray.

Just let me have this. Just this moment, just for now.

-------

“Ugh, I think my stomach is going to explode from excess-pasta.”

Gray huffs, laying his head on your lap as the two of you slump onto the couch. His tail wags lazily, flickering back and forth as his legs swing over the coach's side, his long torso bunched up as he curls into you. The fur of his head is soft as you twist your fingers into it. “But I gotta say, what a way to go out.”

You giggle, losing your thoughts in his soft fur. Gray lets out another deep breath, nuzzling his face into your hand. You brush over his cheek with your  thumb, admiring the cheekbone you feel just underneath.

But that burning question refuses to leave your mind, and you ask it without even thinking.

“Do you want kids, Gray?”

Gray’s eye’s stay closes, his posture relaxed as he sinks into your massaging fingers.

“Hmmm, maybe. Never really thought too much about it. Why?”

Your throat dries up, mind reeling. It wasn’t even a definitive yes, but your heart is still reeling. Your fingers pause and Gray's eyes open. He shifts his head when he sees the look on your face, concerned. “Babe?”

You nod, eyes still wide, trying to fight off the inklings of a panic attack. Gray pushes himself up on his elbows, paw quickly coming to caress your cheek. “Baby, is everything alright?”

You find the energy to breathe, and suck in deeply. Your heart begins to slow down as you look into Gray’s yellow wolf eyes. You dig your cheek into his large palm, smelling the perfume of his conditioner.

“Yes, sorry, I just-” You pause, taking another deep breath. “I ran into Mrs. Star in the grocery store, and-I’m sorry I’m overthinking things.” You mutter, patting yourself  on the cheek as to snap yourself out of your mood. Grays other hand rubs the back of your neck.

“It’s okay, baby, I’m here. Did she say something?”

“No-Well, yes. It’s silly, typical Star things. She just brought up how ‘ought to get started having kids, and it just-” You let out a shaky sigh, pulling away Gray’s hand with your own and looking him straight in the eye. “I don’t want to have kids, ever.”

In Gray’s eyes, you expect to….something. Confusion, disappointment, maybe? But instead, all you see is relief. Gray rests his paw on your thigh, squeezing it.

“_____, is that what you’ve been worrying about?” You nod, throwing your eyes back down, but Gray tilts your chin towards him. “If you don’t want kids, we won’t have kids. Simple as that.”

Your eyes widen and you pull your face back.

“Seriously? But-what if-”

“____, I grew up with eight siblings. I’m going to have to deal with more nieces and nephews then I can count on my fingers and my toes, I think I can handle not having kids.”

A weight lifts off of your chest and you slump forward into Gray, pressing your forehead against his clavicles as you let out a long, relieved sigh. He laughs, patting your back and kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry you had to deal with this all day, I didn’t even realize you were so upset.”

You slap his chest, letting out another frustrated sigh. With him? No, but yourself, and Mrs. Star, for stirring up nightmares for no damn good reason.

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine for being so paranoid.” You press your chin up, pouty lips admiring your boyfriend's face. “I’m sorry for freaking out. She really got me into my own head.”

“No apologies needed baby.” Gray says, giving you a small peck. You send him a cheesy smile, chasing after his lips with a couple of small kisses. A low rumble growls out from his chest as you nip at his jawline. Behind him, you hear his tail begin to hump on the floor.

“Hmm, does that mean you feel better?” You nod, pressing another kiss into his pulse point.

“Yes, thank you for letting me get that out.” Another kiss, now on his Adam’s apple.

“Welp,” Gray says, quickly adjusting himself. In another second, you yelp as he picks you up by your butt, legs quickly wrapping around his waist, “Let’s give Mrs. Star something to talk about, hmm?”

You throw your head back with a laugh, clinging tight to his chest as Gray blows a raspberry into your neck. “That good with you, my lady?”

You nod, giving him another kiss on the lips as he carries you off into the bedroom.

Yeah, you have it good.

[mae-gi-writes]

Where The Sea Birds Sleep | Kevin (The Boyz Imagine)

A cute confession needs no words. 

A/N: I just wanted a cute fluffy Kevin au because it’s been a while and I forgot how great it feels to write for him. xx Stay safe, stay healthy and take care y’all <3 

Genre: aquarium trip au, fluff, cute hand-holding.

------

The school of fish glide through the aquamarine water, scales flashing all colours of the rainbow as they catch the light bouncing off the aquarium walls. Kevin is already steps ahead of you like a giddy child, palms pressing against the cool glass and nose practically squished up against it. His gaze swivels back and forth to catch a glimpse of as many species as he can and a small giggle bursts from his lips at intervals.

You watch with your arms crossed a few meters back, an amused grin adorning your face. You feel Jacob nudge you, "you're doing it again."

You immediately wipe your face blank, "doing what?"

"Staring Kevin down like he's a fresh piece of sashimi you wish to gobble up."

You slap his arm without hesitation and the said man yelps, "piss off," you mutter.

On your other side stands Juyeon, hands shoved in his pockets and looking like he'd rather be anywhere else but here.

The three of you had given in to Kevin's needless whining about aquarium visits, with the latter dropping subtle hints every now and again-- pamphlet deals, coupons to buy a fish, a discount on end of the year sales for aquarium visits. This guy literally picked up everything that had the marine animal plastered over it for his friends to see, and thus you had decided to take matters into your own hands, considering that no one else would otherwise.

Not because you had a huge mega crush on the said young man.

No, this is solely because of your long standing friendship and a way to make him stop whining.

Clearly though, Jacob and Juyeon don't think so. They both playfully nudge their elbows to your sides as you keep following Kevin's voice pitched with excitement.

"Did you drag us along on purpose just to stand there and do nothing?" Juyeon murmurs into your ear while you enter the jellyfish section, causing you to shoot him a look, "Don't," there's an edge to your tone but Juyeon isn't afraid, even reaches over to mess the perfect ponytail you took thirty minutes to perfect.

"Juyeon!" You yell in a growing mixture of annoyance and he runs away to hide behind a still awestruck Kevin. The latter blinks back to reality, noticing the glower on your face before he asks what's wrong.

You grumble something about Juyeon being a dick, to which he blows you a kiss. The aquarium is devoid of people, making it easier for you to take your time or rather, to wait for Kevin who ooes and aahs at every single fish he lays eyes upon. Warmth blossoms through your heart as you see his face light up, a smile tugging your lips upwards without realizing it.

That is precisely one of the reasons why you love him so much. He's amazed by life itself and watching him is like experiencing a different kind of sunset everyday; breathtakingly beautiful and different.

You wish you had that kind of optimism. But like a flower in need of sunlight, you had found yourself tilting towards Kevin in search for his warmth to envelope you.

It is when you reach the manta ray section that you jump up in excitement, quickly scooting beside the said dark-haired man where you can see the birds of the sea gliding through the waters with a gentleness that causes you to grin, not realizing that you're currently mirroring Kevin's expression.

"Oh look at that one! It's a baby!" Kevin points and evidently enough, there's a paler, smaller manta ray accompanying its mother.

"They're so cute," you find your voice as you feel the softest brush of manta ray skin against your palm. You giggle, "it tickles."

"Manta rays are so poetic," Kevin says, "I could write a whole book about how they swim."

"I'd buy that book in a heartbeat," you joke, "they've always been fascinating to me."

Your hand suddenly brushes against his by accident and you quickly pull back, heat exploding through your cheeks and you pray to god that the darkness of the aquarium is enough to hide it.

"Why?"

"I don't know," you can feel his eyes, those beautiful angular almond eyes, on you. You keep your eyes glues to the waters though, "I guess I'm a hopeless romantic. We don't call them birds of the sea for nothing."

He hums in agreement, "that's true."

"Why do you like fish so much?"

There's a soft pause, broken only by the sound of water churning in the background.

"Ever since I was small, I had a fish tank," he starts, "I would look at it everyday and try to figure out why the fish never ate each other."

You snort, "calm down cannibal."

"It's true! I swear it's a kid thing okay?"

"Sure."

"Well anyway, my mom used to take care of them back when she didn't have a job. So she told me that they had their own ecosystem and that breaking the balance of it would ultimately create havoc."

"Hence cannibalism?" You notice his shoulder against yours. Had he always been this close? Maybe you're just imagining things.

"You're such a weirdo Y/N," Kevin crinkles his nose at your comment, "people would just call it the cycle of life. Why'd you gotta be so vulgaar?"

"I wouldn't be me if I weren't vulgar."

"No," his alto grows softer, closer to you, "you wouldn't."

Another pause ensues, though it is comfortable. You pet the ray that is lifting its fin as if in a solitary wave and you gently stroke the underside before your hand dives back down into the water. It knocks into Kevin's.

"Sorry," you mutter before going to pet another ray that is incoming. But warmth suddenly engulfs your little finger and blinking down in confusion, your mouth grows dry at the way the young man has his little finger hooked into yours. What the--?

Your eyes find his face only to see him blatantly caressing another ray with his other hand, trying his best to ignore your poignant stare. Questions are bouncing at the tip of your tongue and you press your lips together, realizing that you do indeed like the feel of his finger around yours.

Noticing that you aren't pulling back yet, Kevin grows a little more confident. He leans into your shoulder a little more, just the gentlest pressure of clothed body to body.

Then, the rest of his fingers weave through yours like magic and you can't believe how right it feels.

You probably stay that way for a few minutes longer even though it feels like seconds. All too soon, you feel Kevin shift while murmuring that maybe you should catch up with Jacob and Juyeon, who have long since disappeared. He doesn't let go of your hand though, keeps holding it tightly in his until he finds some tissues to wipe it off.

He holds your hand so gently between his, his touch fleeting and light, yet sending an array of goosebumps skittering down your said arm. You can barely breathe as you search his eyes, but when he looks back at you, the tenderness of his face is enough to render your heart into a frenzied staccato.

"I wonder where they've gone," he hums, tugging you along with a thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. Your face is flaming red at this point and he'd be an idiot not to notice.

"I--" you can't keep your eyes off your entwined hands, "I don't know."

He glances back, notices the focus of your attention, before grinning playfully, "what?"

Your gaze flits upwards to his, "nothing."

His hand squeezes yours as if in understanding and upon hearing his soft playful giggle, you let out a small laugh before squeezing back fondly.

A few minutes later, you spot the missing two boys by the coffee stand don't hesitate to scowl at them when you notice their eyes lingering over your linked hands, smirks flashing across their faces.

"Hey Kevin," Jacob calls out, "Why are you holding Y/N's hand?"

Oh god. You wish you can punch him. Your entire body grows still.

Kevin, with soft peony cheeks, only grins in return before he says a little smugly, "because I like her. And because she's going to be mine."

At this point you feel so hot that you wouldn’t be surprised if you were to combust right there and then, nudging Kevin as you bite your lip to stop the smile from spreading across your face. Meanwhile, the other two boys high-five each other as Kevin leans in a little closer, lips just mere inches from your ear:

"So will you? Be mine?"

[honey-dewey]

Dye Day Disasters Part Two

Pairing: Shane ‘Dio’ Morrissey/Reader

Word Count: 1,594

Warnings: Mentions of spicy times, but nothing explicit. 

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Three months after you and Dio dye your hair for the first time, he makes a deal with you. You can go with him when he visits his sister if he gets to pick your next hair color. I’m sure that won’t be a decision you regret, right? (Spoiler alert, it isn’t.)

A/N: This is a shameless continuation of a story I posted yesterday, Dye Day Disasters. I have no shame and apparently no self control either. Oops. 

You sighed, kicking your feet and waiting. You’d never been good at waiting, but with Dio, waiting patiently got you rewarded, so you were willing to sit by the door and simply wait.

Dio had gone out to the store for dyes and other stuff, and you and him had struck a bargain before he had left. You were both headed out to visit his sister, and he agreed that he’d take you with him for the visit if and only if he got to pick your hair color this time around. You’d relented. In the months since Dio had dyed your hair the first time, you’d gone through plenty of colors, your favorite still being the deep teal with blue streaks that made you look like a mermaid. But now, the fate of your hair was in Dio’s hands.

The door opened, and you eagerly jumped up, seeing Dio walk in with the bag of goodies. “Were you waiting on the floor for me?”

“No!” You lied, hugging Dio tightly. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late.”

Dio smiled, putting the bag down. “Calm down darling. Everly knows we’ll probably be late.”

You pouted. “We won’t be late!”

Grabbing your hands, Dio leaned in close. “Oh really? Because you do get a reward for sitting pretty while I was gone.”

So you were definitely going to be late. Dio rewarded you while you both showered, staying in until the water ran freezing. After that, you had to take care in covering the budding bruises Dio left all over your skin. Yeah, definitely going to be late.

And you were. Thankfully, not by much. Everly, who you’d only met once or twice, was eager to see you, happily hugging you and smiling when you winced at her tight embrace. “Oh honey,” she said. “Did Dio ruin you last night?”

“This morning,” you admitted sheepishly. “I’m gonna get even with him, I swear.”

Everly laughed. “Well, come in!”

You followed her through her house, Dio behind you. Everly chatted to you both, leading you into the garage, which was set up like a one man salon.

“This is where I do most of my work,” she said. “And if I’m not wrong, Dio texted me and told me we’d be using it.”

Dio nodded. “Just dyeing,” he said. “Nothing ridiculous.”

Everly groaned overdramatically. “Fine,” she said. “But, and do remind me to show off the photos, you looked so fun with bubblegum pink hair. Who’s first?”

Dio pointed to you. “They need bleach.”

You grinned. “Yeah. Learned that one the hard way. I was orange for a while when we tried to go from yellow to red.”

“That’s just basic color theory,” Everly said, pointing to the chair. “Sit. What color are we doing?”

Dio pulled Everly aside and showed her the dye, and she eagerly nodded. “Oh that’ll look so good!” She said happily, turning back to you. “But definitely bleach first, to make it pop.”

Still in the dark about your hair color, you said a silent goodbye to the slightly faded navy blue color you had now while Everly pulled a towel that was already bleach stained across your shoulders. “So,” she said, grabbing a bottle of bleach and measuring a decent amount into a bowl. “How goes it baby brother?”

Rolling his eyes at the baby brother comment, Dio began to tell Everly about life. You added bits when he missed something or said something wrong, but you mostly just listened as Everly bleached your hair.

Finally, once you were fairly certain you were going to fall asleep, Everly put the bleach bowl down and nodded. “Alrighty,” she said. “C’mon up now. I gotta fix all of that.” She gestured in Dio’s general direction and you suppressed a smile. “And it might take a while.”

You stood and Dio took your place, shedding his jacket and watching Everly in the mirror. “Have you talked to Brynn recently?”

Everly shrugged. “Yeah. She was here a few weeks ago,” she said, shaking out a cape and pulling it over Dio’s shoulders. “She’s doing well. We went dress shopping.”

Dio nodded, putting his chin to his chest when Everly pushed his head down. “That’s good,” he said.

“Yeah,” Everly agreed. “Oh, and Viv says hi. I saw her yesterday. She was disappointed she couldn’t see you.”

“She lives down the street from me,” Dio said. “She can literally walk to my apartment and visit.”

Everly laughed. “You know Viv. She won’t do it.”

Dio rolled his eyes, and you smiled. Sometimes you forgot how well Dio got along with his sisters.

“Okay baby bro,” Everly said, ruffling Dio’s hair once she was done, in her words, neatening him up. “Hop up. It ain’t your turn anymore.”

She didn’t make Dio get up, mostly because you and him didn’t need to swap places yet. Instead, she sat you in front of a sink and rinsed the bleach away, humming. “So,” she said, looking down at you. “When’s he gonna propose?”

You heard Dio drop something, and you almost knocked your head on the side of the sink in shock. “What?”

Everly laughed. “You two have been together for ages,” she said. “And when I mentioned I was seeing Dio, mom made me promise to ask when you two were getting married.”

“Everly, I will stab you with something,” Dio said, sounding strained.

“And we have not been together for ages,” you added. “It’s been two years.”

Everly rolled her eyes. “You’ve known each other for almost five though,” she said.

“Still not getting married!” You said, and Everly smiled.

“Okay, okay, I’m just the messenger,” she said, wrapping your head in a towel. “Dio. Up.”

Dio stood, sitting where you’d just been while you took his place. Everly dried your hair, asking Dio to turn some music on while she worked. He did, hooking her phone up to an aux cord and immediately flinching at her selection of music. “ABBA? Really?”

“Excuse you!” Everly said over the hair dryer. “ABBA is excellent!”

Dio said nothing, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see him tapping his foot along to the music.

“Finally, the fun part,” Everly said eagerly, turning the chair around so you couldn’t see yourself in the mirror. “Dio, wanna help?”

Dio eagerly got up, standing on your left while Everly took your right.

“Is it gonna be half-and-half again?” You asked. Dio shushed you, putting on gloves and beginning to carefully section your hair. So that was a yes.

Everly mixed the colors behind you, handing Dio a bowl and smiling. “Here we go.”

Between Everly and Dio, the process was much quicker than it was at home. Everly was done first, and began to prep Dio’s black dye while he finished up his side of your head.

Finally, when your hair was entirely coated in dye, you stood so Dio could sit. You tried to sneak a peek in the mirror exactly once, and found yourself unsuccessful and completely deterred from doing it again. Unsuccessful because Everly had put a black towel around your head and deterred because Dio pinched your thigh really hard. “No peeking.”

You pouted, making a very dignified face at Dio and humming along to ‘Killer Queen’ while Everly worked black dye into Dio’s hair.

Finally, he joined you, and you pouted in his direction.

“What?”

“You pinched me!”

Dio smiled. “Would you like me to kiss it better?”

Your pout disappeared. “Can I pinch you back?”

Sighing, Dio bared his arm, and you pinched the sensitive skin on the inside of his elbow. He didn’t even flinch.

“You’re both dorks!” Everly said from across the room.

You smiled, standing up and plopping back down on Dio’s lap, leaning against his chest. He immediately accommodated for you, shifting so you’d both be comfortable.

“Yeah, dorks,” Everly decided, sitting in her chair and swinging around slowly. She held up her phone. “Say hi to Viv.”

You both waved to the phone, and Everly sent the video. “Alright. Forty five minutes. Are y’all in the mood for a movie?”

The answer was yes, mostly because Everly put on Corpse Bride. It was one of Dio’s favorites, so you two stayed cuddled up and watched the first half of the movie. When Everly’s timer went off, you reluctantly stood and stretched, sitting at the sink again and damn near falling asleep as she rinsed the excess dye out.

After a very lengthy blow dry session where Dio was adamant you still couldn’t look, you were allowed to turn around.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, finally seeing your hair. “Dio, I love it!”

Dio smiled. “I knew you would.”

Your hair, which had been navy at the start of this ordeal, was now split between baby blue and a paler pink, reminding you of cotton candy.

Everly grinned. “He picked well. I have to say, not everyone can pull these colors off.”

After that, Dio’s hair was washed and dried, and Everly made good on her promise to send you home with Polaroids of Dio with highlighter pink hair. You waved goodbye, promising to come back soon.

“Did you have fun today?” Dio asked as you two got in the car to go home.

“Yeah,” you said, yawning. “I’m exhausted though.”

Dio smiled. “Get some rest. And thank you for trusting me.”

You leaned back, cradling your head between the car seat and the door. “Wasn’t any question about it Dio,” you said softly. “I’ll always trust you.”

“Always?”

“Always.”

[katnissmellarkkk]

Alrightttt, I’m on a roll so we’re going onto chappy five 🥳🥳🥳😎😎

I know the movies made the Capitol — re: basically only Effie and maybe Caesar — have those ridiculous made up accents but .... I actually feel like the description of the Capitol accent in the book is supposed to be like the Kardashians or Paris Hilton’s voice. 🤷🏼‍♀️

“Why do these people speak in such a high pitch? Why do their jaws barely open when they talk? Why do the ends of their sentences go up as if they're asking a question? Odd vowels, clipped words, and always a hiss on the letter s. no wonder it's impossible not to mimic them.” Like this is a pretty good description of how Kim Kardashian and her sisters talk. And Suzzy C did say she was inspired by the juxtaposition between war news footage and ridiculous reality television shows so... I think my theory of the Capitol all talking like they’re on the Real Housewives of LA is pretty valid.

Just imagine Paris Hilton as Effie and Nicole Richie as one of her preps

Lolololol this whole section of waxing is reminding me to go get my legs waxed 😭😭😭 straight up calling me out here, Suzanne

I like how Katniss says her stylist “apparently has no interest in seeing her until the prep team has addressed obvious problems.” Like you can tell from her narration she was expecting to feel the same was about Cinna that she does about Effie and her prep team.

The “gritty loam that takes off dirt and three layers of skin” is probably just a strong exfoliator 😭😭😭 my girl knows nothing about quality skincare 🤧🤧 someone build a Panem Sephora

She mentioned them waxing her underarms.... girl, did you have hairy armpits before this? Idk why this revelation is new to me

“Grease her down!” Just sounds wrong 😅😅😅😅 I need to stop being annoying omg I’m like a twelve year old

Hmm it’s funny to me that Katniss refers to Octavia as plump. You’d think in a place like the Capitol body image and weight would be very important. Unless it’s like back in the old, old days when being overweight was a sign of wealth. Which would make more sense so this was an unnecessary thought process curtesy of Samantha

Katniss faking a smile and thanking her prep team shows she does know how to play the game and fake it better than she says.

So ... okay, hear me out, I’m not trying to get over the top or make this into something it’s not but ... the whole stylists / Cinna coming into the room and staring at her naked is a little weird. Especially considering Cinna isn’t Lenny Kravitz who’s like a bit older than her but actually like a twenty-something year old dude.

But okay, here’s the thing I was getting at ... Cinna’s one of the best people in this series and you can’t deny that. Even if you find him boring, he’s still one of Katniss’ closest people. Also he’s probably gay. But like ... what about the other stylists? I don’t wanna be that person who makes everything more than it is, but like, this scene just sounds like a perfect opportunity for some Capitol creep to assault a teenager idk I’m probably making a mountain out of a molehill just ignore Samantha okay.

That’s nice that he complimented her mama though 🥰🥰🥰

So Katniss calls District Twelve the least desirable district but ... doesn’t District Eleven suck too? Like she also later says District Twelve is the smallest and the poorest but doesn’t she also say Rue is worse off than her and Prim? Make up your mind, Suz.

Cinna claims he asked for District Twelve but did he really get an option? 😅 If it’s his first year and Katniss claims the newbies get them anyway 🤷🏼‍♀️ Samantha is once again, reading too much into this.

Awww, Katniss is thinking about how long it would take for her to assemble this fancy meal at home 🤧🤧🤧 it would take her days and the Capitol just has the necessary resources at their disposal and they just takes it for granted. And yes, I’m aware this is supposed to be calling all us readers out who take so much for granted I know. We’re the Capitol.

“How would I spend the hours I now commit to combing the woods for sustenance if it were so easy to come by?” It’s honestly so sad but so vital to her character that Katniss has zero hobbies or real free time. Her life is about surviving. She doesn’t get to live or enjoy very much of her time. She dedicates everything to keeping Prim — and her mother — alive, sacrificing everything a teenage girl should be doing. Sacrificing even the things the other girls in her world get to do. She mentions the merchant girls and the Seam girls who are more experienced romantically and sexually and socially than her. Because she doesn’t get to be a kid or innocent or even happy, in order to focus on her and her family’s survival. And the things she does enjoy, like spending time with Gale or dancing with Prim (mentioned in Mockingjay) she downplays in case they’re taken away, because nothing good is secure in her eyes. 🥺🥺🥺

Okay but what did Katniss’ facial expression give away that Cinna knew exactly what she was thinking? Or is she just less emotionless than she and Haymitch both claim? Ironically I think they’re the only people who call her emotionless which can easily be chalked up to their self-hate and terrible self-esteems.

Katniss is so afraid they’re gonna make her be naked for the parade 😭. Honestly though they’re children that’s so creepy that they’re even allowed to make 15/16/17 year olds be naked in a parade. I mean I know they kill kids every year but isn’t there like child pornography laws in Panem? 😭

“You’re not afraid of fire, are you, Katniss?” Is so foreshadowing 😭😂😅😎 Caesar Flickerman’s voice “Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire!”

Honestly though Cinna is smart to make Katniss recognizable in the arena by leaving her with simple makeup. I know and the sky is blue we all know this already beating the dead horses until the farmer comes home.

“It crosses my mind that Cinna's calm and normal demeanor masks a complete madman.” It’s true though 😅😅😅😭😭 he was always a rebel. I actually think he may have asked for District Twelve after Katniss volunteered, because he saw the potential in her. Poor Peeta. Baby, I’m rooting you for even if no one else is.

Also I always found it a bit .... curious? That Peeta had a female stylist and Katniss had a male one? Not just because of the required nudity, you’d just think men would do better as a boy’s stylist and a woman would make a better girl’s stylist. So yes, my whole Cinna was interested in District Twelve because Katniss seemed like a good symbol for a rebellion idea seems very plausible.

I know I know I know I read wayyy too much into this stuff sometimes a cigarette 🚬 is just a cigarette 🚬

Katniss being relieved when Peeta shows up 😭😭😭 because even if she won’t admit it and even if she won’t let herself trust him, she still sees him unconsciously and completely against her will as a comfort because they’re in this thing together in a way, even if they’re supposed to try and kill each other

And honestly, it’s such a like... relatable feeling? To feel alone and nervous and uptight and then someone who you recognize — even if you maybe aren’t even friends with but you at least know — shows up and you just instantly feel less alone. I’m totally looking at this through shipper goggles and I’m not even ashamed you all knew who’s blogging you were reading ight? 😂🤣🤷🏼‍♀️

“He should know about fire, being a baker's son and all.” And he’s gonna learn a lot more about it when he falls in love — for real, falls in love, not a childhood infatuation — with the girl on fire. 🥰🥰🥰

But also, I love this particular line on a reread because it totally is an indicator towards their future. Like Peeta knows about fire, he’s experienced with how to handle it, and later on, he becomes the only person who truly comes to understand Katniss, who represents fire, in a way that no one else could ever imagine.

Hmmm, Katniss’ point of view here, talking about how Portia and Peeta’s team seem all giddy and air-headed and it’s only Cinna who seems reserved makes me rethink my previous imaginings of Peeta’s stylist. Maybe she’s just a Capitolite idiot and nothing like Cinna. And my baby got a raw deal here then too. Good thing Haymitch loves him more. Just kidding 😅😅😅

But also I wanna know why Cinna is hesitant to accept congratulations for his and Portia’s idea? Wasn’t he at least lowkey excited about it when he pitched it a page ago?

Their horses are coal black 🐴 😅. I like that they went the whole nine yards with the theme. Nothing but the best for the kids on Death Row.

Aww Katniss asking Peeta what he thinks about being set on fire is so sweet and pure for some reason. I just find their commodore here cute ok

“I'll rip off your cape if you'll rip off mine” this is literally their first friend type of interaction and it’s so pure y’all leave me be I’m emotional for them

🙃 Also lowkey reminds me of “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Everyone look away ok I’m sorry

Peeta’s shady/annoyed Haymitch comment and Katniss’ joke at his expense 🤣🤣😂🤣😂😂🥲🥲☺️🥲🥲 they’re bonding it’s so presh

“And suddenly we're both laughing.” I hope they laugh a lot together post-canon 🥲🥲🥲. If they can make the other laugh during their terrible circumstances, then they can make the other laugh anywhere. 🤧 Except in Thirteen because he’s hijacked and she’s certifiable and they’re both so used and abused and 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Okay I have to say, Suzanne Collins really builds up a lot for certain events and then just like grazes over the actual action of said event? Like she builds towards the tribute parade but then kind of rushes through off the actual event itself? It’s a common theme in her writing. And I don’t like it at all ngl.

Oh wait she doesn’t actually rush the parade events the paragraph before just looked like she was about to I jumped the gun 🤣😂🤭 but what I said is still completely true for many events in these books sorry not sorry

I’m definitely reading too much into it but the fact that District One — the favorite of the Capitol — gets snow white horses and District Twelve gets coal black horsies kind of ... seems to imply something .... 🤭

Cinna just lets out a sigh of relief “it worked” like ... way to fill your tributes with hope, dude. “Yeah, you’re totally safe, don’t be scared-OH THANK GOD THAT WORKED I wasn’t actually sure you wouldn’t blow up.” But actually this answers my previous inquiry about why he seemed hesitant I guess he wasn’t even sure this wouldn’t burn them up that’s nice 🤭🙃

It’s a literal trial by fire *cue drum hit* 🥁 aww, I just cracked myself up 😭

“Then he gently tucks a hand under my chin. "Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you!" This is caught halfway between being very Capitol-y and very father-brotherly and idk which way to take it but it’s kind of cute 🤭

“For the first time, I look at him and realize that ablaze with the fake flames, he is dazzling.” This is such a significant line because Katniss isn’t saying Peeta is technically good looking (like when Haymitch said they were decently attractive) or someone else thinks he’s good looking (i.e Gale, her mother and lowkey Finnick) but she’s saying she herself thinks he’s attractive. Girl, your crush is showing.

"I think he said for us to hold hands," says Peeta.” I’m sure Cinna actually did say that but this just seems like a very good opportunity for Peeta to hold the hand of the girl he has a massive crush on. 😭😭😭

Okay Cinna gave a thumbs up so he actually was saying that but can you imagine Peeta’s excitement right now?

I mean, yeahhhh, there’s the certain death looming over him too but like live in the moment, babe. 🥰😘🤗👌🏻

I like that Katniss says the crowd is at first like 😳😳😳 before they start cheering like they’re thinking “what are these backwoods, hillbilly kids doing this year?”

“At first, I'm frozen, but then I catch sight of us on a large television screen and am floored by how breathtaking we look. In the deepening twilight, the firelight illuminates our faces” okay they both have to be pretty naturally attractive people objectively, because you illuminate my face without much makeup and no one is gonna be cheering.

“Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you! I hear Cinna's voice in my head. I lift my chin a bit higher, put on my most winning smile, and wave with my free hand.” I wonder what the true difference is for Katniss between Cinna and Effie saying this to her? Maybe it’s that Effie is just outright mean to her sometimes whereas Cinna shows her nothing but kindness from the start and expresses sympathy and understanding? It’s probably that he’s already earning her trust versus Effie who’s just cruel I’m not over her comments on the train ok

“I'm glad now I have Peeta to clutch for balance, he is so steady, solid as a rock.” Right from the start, Katniss refers to Peeta as solid and steady. Idk, I feel like this is something that the movies really misses along the way. Katniss wasn’t always strong or confident at all and Peeta, at least publicly, exuded those qualities pretty well. Samantha’s complaining again ™️ 💁🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

Also this is just outright foreshadowing how Peeta will eventually become her rock. Or that he will be soon painted a rock ... pick and choose which way you wanna go with this. 🤷🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️😅🤣

“As I gain confidence, I actually blow a few kisses to the crowd.” Okay, see I feel like Peeta really gives Katniss confidence in herself. If he’d been there in District Thirteen and they’d done propos together, she probably would have been a thousand times better.

But also this makes me think Katniss actually has it in her to be a charismatic, confident, alluring celebrity. She just chooses not to. 🤗🤗🤗

But this also reminds me of “She has no idea the effect she can have” okay imma move on and stop focusing on every little detail

I say that every chapter 🤧😅

“The pounding music, the cheers, the admiration work their way into my blood, and I can't suppress my excitement.” Say whatever you want, Katniss is still such a girl underneath it all. She gets excited over people liking her and cheering her on. And I know it’s because it increases her chances of getting sponsors but still

Honestly Peeta trying to showcase Katniss and let her take the spotlight is so selfless and indicative of his ultimate plan to help her win but also ... I can see how Katniss would believe it’s too good to be true and he’s messing with her. That he’s just playing the game to earn her trust, get her guard down and manipulate her later.

See, Peeta is actually framed at the start like the typical, standard YA love interest turned villain. In majority of YA books, at this point the boy is kind and sweet and helpful to the girl until she trusts him completely and then he turns on her and uses everything she gave him to destroy her. But the difference is, Katniss refuses to truly trust him and she is guessing his game incorrectly at every step. And then it’s revealed that it was never a game and he truly isn’t messing with her and everything he’s done that’s seem too good to be true and not even remotely plausible has actually been genuine and heartfelt and that, my friends, is why Peeta is above all other YA love interests. Because Everlark is actually the foil to many of the cliches. That was a long speech over some incoherent thoughts I’m so sorry if you suffered through that.

“It's not until we enter the City Circle that I realize I must have completely stopped the circulation in Peeta's hand. That's how tightly I've been holding it.” Awww he is her rock 😭🤧🥺

"No, don't let go of me," he says. The firelight flickers off his blue eyes. "Please. I might fall out of this thing." Okay this part is so cute and so blatantly setting Peeta up as her main love interest omg 😅 this isn’t the least bit subtle or disguised. But first off, the fact that Katniss is also Peeta’s stability here too 😭😭😭 and second of all, she takes time to notice his blue eyes against the firelight? She was attracted to him from the very start, y’all. That’s indisputable. 👌🏻😎🤧

“It's not really fair to present us as a team and then lock us into the arena to kill each other.” I agree with you, baby, it’s not fair at all. But you two take care of that situation nicely. Or not. Y’all do start a dang war. 🤭🤭🙃🙃

It’s rather ... ironic that it’s District Twelve’s chariot of them all that is pulled up and stopped directly in front of President Snow’s mansion. I know it’s a book, certain details like this are definitively contrived, I know get over it. 🤦🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️

So uh. Snow is a small thin man? Why do I suddenly imagine Danny Devito as Snow 😅😅😅😅🤣🤣🤣🤣 y’all know he’d kill the role

“The darker it becomes, the more difficult it is to take your eyes off our flickering.” Okay, this is such a great line and it’s so significant to the rest of the series? The fact that Katniss — and Peeta, let’s not forget our boy — became symbols of the revolution. Like this line is deep if you think about it. The worse things in Panem got, the more the civilians looked towards Katniss and Peeta for hope 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥰🥰🥰🥰

Omg now after Songbirds and Snakes, we know the national anthem. I’m sorry, babies, that you have to endure that I’ll get you out of there 🙉🙉🙉

I feel like in part, the Capitol camera crew — Cressida, Pollux .... Pollux’s brother... is that you here???? — put so much attention on District Twelve because it would create some resentment and competition between them and the careers 🤭🤗

“I notice a lot of the other tributes are shooting us dirty looks, which confirms what I've suspected, we've literally outshone them all.” Insert Gretchen Wieners “I can’t help that I’m popular!” 😅😅😅😅😅

“I realize I'm still glued to Peeta and force my stiff fingers to open. We both massage our hands.” — they were hanging on so tight 😭😭😭😭

“Thanks for keeping hold of me.” He’s so sweet ☺️☺️☺️ I love him even if he’s kind of an idiot sometimes but so is Katniss so let’s not point fingers

“I'm sure they didn't notice anything but you. [...] And then he gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness” Omg I know Katniss views this as him trying to manipulate her but the fact that he’s actually just admitting the way he’s felt for years is so 😭😭😭😭 if only you’d spit it out sooner, Bready

“he gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me.” She literally has a crush on her fellow tribute and her first line of defense is to decide he out to get her for making her feel this way 🤣😭🙃

“The more likable he is, the more deadly he is.” The more my crush grows, the more deadly he becomes. I know I’m reading this with shipper goggles but guess what? I’m unashamed. 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️ who feels guilty for reading this book with an Everlark bias not this girl right here 🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️

“I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Right on his bruise.” Okay first off, she says cheek here but according to a chapter ago, she claimed the mark was on his jaw... so in other words, she’s incredibly short. If a medium height guy has a bruise on his jaw and she has to stand on her tip toe to reach it... well... hashtag LittleKatniss

And second off.... can you even imagine how Peeta must feel. He genuinely complimented her here, the girl he has had a crush on forever, and she responds by kissing his cheek. He was probably really happy at this moment. And also this probably played further into his buying into her false display in the arena. That here we have her clutching his hand, smiling and laughing with him and kissing his cheek. Idk what I was trying to say necessarily but I made myself sad wow way to go me 🥺🥺🥺🥺🤧🤧🤧

Anyways! Those are my very over the top and too detailed thoughts! Hope you enjoyed if you read this! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳😎😎😎😎😎😎😎🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

[mostlydysfunction]

From The Stars, Part 7

Summary: The time has come for the birth. 

Warnings: Definitely some descriptive, gory birth/egg laying in this one. Not really for the faint of heart. 

Authors Note: So I was going to wait to do the birth until the next part but I really wanted to get it over with cause I knew it was going to be a big turning part in this story and I could totally make this like a 50 part story but I wanted to keep this one more on the shorter side, so y’all get the birth in this one. It’s gross. My mind went there. I have no excuses. 

MASTERLIST

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

“You must really like milk.” 

The statement draws Kira out of her daze. She had gone to the store to pick up some groceries. It seemed she couldn’t ever get enough to eat, and she had this awful need to constantly drink milk. So she had loaded her cart with as many gallons of milk as she could and she had been staring at the yogurt lost in thought when someone had commented on her strange pickings. 

“Oh, I’m...expecting company.” Kira mumbles, quickly heading out of that area and off towards the meat section. 

Along with a taste for milk she had also acquired a taste for meat, any kind of meat, raw or cooked. Milk and meat seemed to be the only things that tasted good to her and seemed to ease the constant ache of hunger that plagued her. She hadn’t wanted to leave the barn, but she knew she needed to stock up on something for a while. She had no idea how long the eggs would need to gestate. She had put on her biggest sweater to hide the swell of her stomach. It seemed they were getting bigger and bigger every day and she wasn’t sure how long she’d have before either they came out or they got too heavy to carry around. She couldn’t exactly ask anyone for help, nor could she send her alien out to do the shopping. Both would raise far too many questions. So she would stock up for the time being now before things took a turn. 

She felt strange. Like she should have been panicking. She was pregnant with an alien’s eggs. Walking around with alien babies in her body, shopping for groceries like it was just a normal day. Eventually she’d give birth to the eggs and have eight baby aliens running around. 

But she was calm. 

Freakishly calm. 

She grabs a few steaks, and enough ground beef to fill her freezer before heading towards the checkout. It’s early enough that there’s not many people in the store, thankfully not a lot of eyes to question her condition. It was a small town and most people knew at least who her dad was. The last thing she needed was for someone to recognize her and notice. How was she going to explain going from being not pregnant a month ago to looking like she was now five months pregnant? How would she explain the pregnancy? She couldn’t exactly tell the truth. People would think she’d lost it. 

Kira ignores the looks from the checker as she loads the gallons of milk and pounds of meat onto the counter. She pays before pushing her cart out to her car, loading it into the trunk. She’s glad to get out of the store and out of town. She felt anxious, like an itch at the back of her brain being away from her alien now. Even just being in the house while he was in the barn made her nervous. She knows part of it is the fact she could pop the eggs out at any moment, and he was her only hope for knowing what to do when that happens. But she can’t deny she had felt an intense connection with him now that she was carrying his clutch. Sometimes she thinks she can sense him communicating with her, more just feelings than actual formed words. 

Maybe she really was losing her mind. 

Kira loads up her fridge and freezer with milk and meat, popping open a gallon before sitting down on her couch. She was tired, her feet and ankles aching already from carrying around the heavy eggs. Her back constantly hurt and she couldn’t get comfortable enough to sleep very much. It had only been a week, but she couldn’t wait for the eggs to finally be birthed, just to give her body a break. 

********

Kira wakes to a cramping sensation in her lower abdomen. It had been just over a month since she’d been impregnated, and she looked like she was eight months pregnant with twins now. The eggs were heavy, making moving only necessary when it was unavoidable. Like bathroom trips or trips to the kitchen. This morning, however, Kira instantly feels the need to move. There’s a sheen of sweat on her skin, her lower abdomen cramping and spasming. 

She pulls herself up, grabbing her phone before heading to the kitchen. She had taken up residence on the couch, unable to make it up or down the stairs anymore. She grabs the half empty milk from the fridge, drinking a couple sips before her stomach turns violently, making her puke it back up into the sink. 

She’s washing the puke from her hair when her phone rings, startling her. It’s an unknown number, making her hesitant to answer it, but she does anyway. 

“Hello?” 

“Kira?” A familiar voice asks.  

“Dad?” 

“Hey, uh, I just wanted to check on you. See how you were doing.” 

“I’m uh-I’m alright.” She says, holding her breath as another cramp shoots through her. 

“Are you sure? You don’t sound well.” 

“I just...been feeling a bit sick this morning.” 

“Do you need to go to a doctor? I can come over and take you. Bring you something.” 

“No, no, I’ll be alright.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t like the idea of you being alone while you’re sick.” 

She’s not sure where this caring attitude was coming from all of a sudden, but she’s not in the mood for potentially fake concern. “No, I think it’s just a bug. I don’t want to risk getting you sick too.” 

He’s quiet for a moment. “Alright. If you’re sure.” 

“I am.” Kira takes a breath, relaxing as the cramping passes. “Maybe when I’m feeling better, we can meet up for coffee or something.” 

“Yeah. Sure. That sounds good.” 

“Okay. I’ll call you, I guess.” 

“Yeah.” 

Kira doesn’t say goodbye, hanging up the phone. She doesn’t know what prompted her father to suddenly start caring for her, or what he had even really called about. All she knows is she doesn’t want him showing up and witnessing what she knows is about to happen.

She stumbles to the door as a bigger cramp tears through her, aching up her spine and down along her legs. She feels the urge to go to the bathroom and vomit all at the same time, but her mind is driving her to get to one place. 

The barn. 

She pushes through the pain, taking twice as long to drag herself out to the barn, the door already open when she gets there. She slams it closed, locking it. She feels strangely territorial suddenly, not wanting anyone to witness what was going to happen. She hears the familiar hiss, her alien coming out of the darkness and close to her. She hisses at it in return, making it stop where it is. So many feelings and thoughts are rushing through her head, overwhelming her. But most of all, the pain throbbing deep in her pelvis is driving her mad. 

She yanks her pants off, glad she had been forced into sweatpants and leggings with the size her stomach had grown to. Something wet is dripping from her, sliding down her legs and dripping onto the floor. Something inside of her shifts, fluid gushing out onto the floor. The alien lets out a roaring hiss, pain rippling through Kira, forcing her to nearly double over. 

She starts to feel the need to push, kneeling down on the gooey floor. She’s sweaty and panting, something large starting to slide out of her body. She feels like she’s being torn open, the first egg starting to work its way out of her. She bears down on it, pushing hard with every wave of pain. More fluid gushes out of her, splattering onto the floor under her. She pushes herself up, squatting as best she can as she screams in pain, something sliding out of her canal with a force of fluid, a solid thunk sounding on the floor. 

Kira loses her balance, falling back on her bottom, the pain subsiding for a moment. Sitting on the floor, covered in bloody goo, was a black oblong-shaped egg. It had to be the size of an ostrich egg, if not bigger. Her alien steps closer, tilting its head as it stares down at the egg. It lets out a hiss, getting its face close to the egg. Kira doesn’t get to watch it, pain rippling through her again. 

She squats again, more fluid leaving her, the second egg coming out faster from her already stretched canal. Kira falls to her knees, her hand reaching out and touching the warm, gooey, blood covered egg under her. It’s strange in texture, not like a bird egg. Rougher, the outer shell thicker. It’s heavy in her hands, feeling more like a medicine ball than an egg as she moves it over to the first one. Sweat is dripping in her eyes now, her muscles cramping as the third, fourth and fifth eggs join the first two in the world. Each one looks identical, each one sapping more and more of her strength. 

Her legs are shaking, barely able to hold her up as she pushes out the sixth egg, even her cries of pain becoming more pitiful whimpers. There’s a pool under her feet on the floor, but she can’t see down far enough to see what it is. Her alien nudges her gently with its head, hissing quietly at her. She grips onto his arm, holding him tightly as she pushes the seventh egg out. 

Her legs do give out, sending her into a heap on the floor. Her muscles are contracting painfully, something leaking out of her continuously. Her vision is swimming, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. She feels weak, sick to her stomach. There was one egg left. One last one to push out. 

She rolls onto her back, pulling her legs up before pushing on her stomach, trying to guide the last egg out. She’s exhausted, tired of pushing. The smell in the barn is coppery from the blood, her blood. Her back arches, pushing her up, almost sitting as she forces the last egg from her body, just barely having time to wrap her hands around it before she falls back to the ground, unable to lift herself back up again. 

The last egg is smaller than the others had been, its color lighter. She wraps her arms around it, holding it against her chest. Blood and fluid soaks into her shirt but she doesn’t care, holding onto her last egg as her vision goes dark, her body giving out finally.

Part 8

[eclecticwordblender]

Part 3 of the Mahabharata High school AU:

(I’ll attach the link to the first two oarts below. Check them out if you haven’t uwu <3.)

Junior students in the limelight:

Abhimanyu:

Is everybody’s favourite- seniors, teachers, principal, classmates, juniors- EVERYONE LOVES HIM.

Is literally perfection.

Very popular.

All the dirty politics which makes the people in school hate each other is put aside when it comes to going to the junior section and pampering Abhi.

Ma’am Kunti once saw Abhimanyu hanging out with Arjuna and Subhadra, she clicked a picture because she couldn’t stop uwu-ing.

Has all the good qualities he looks up to in his seniors.

Is a precious baby who must be protected at all costs.

“I’ll be better than the best someday.”- boy isn’t wrong!

Ghatotkach:

Super tall.

Chubby.

Is sick of being taller than all his classmates.

A senior, Hidimbi tends to use him as a comforting source. It is very wholesome.

Often goes to Bheema because he wants to be just as good at basketball.

“Hidimbi didi, thanks for the amazing food. I’ll now go practice basketball with Bheema bhaiya.”

Iravan:

The nice rich kid.

Always puts others before himself even at this tender age.

Stays mostly to himself.

But one knows he’s going to do wonders when he grows up.

Once Shiva cane to school for a guest lecture and say Iravan offering someone else his lunch and staying hungry himself. Shiva gave him a chocolate and told Iravan that whenever he needs help Shiva is just a call away. Fr though Shiva always checks up on this kid.

“Umm it’s okay. You can have my life too if you want.”

Uttara:

Has a twin brother.

Cute kid.

too mature for her age.

Heart eyes for cutie Abhi. Abhi heart eyes back.

Teachers don’t let her and Abhimanyu sit together because they don’t stop talking and smiling.

Is a pro dancer. Already has a diploma in Kathak.

Kind of emotional. Cries a lot.

But is still strong, regardless.

“No Abhimanyu. We cannot have a play date today. I have my dance performance.”

Uttar:

Uttara’s twin brother.

Overexcited but in a good way.

Brave.

Gets into accidents A LOT.

Uttar’s most visited spot is the infirmary. The person who knows him best is the school nurse.

Uttar always finds ways to miss dance and music and English class.

“Ah! A fracture again! At least I get to skip the annoying girly dance stuff though.”

Vrishaketu:

Abhimanyu’s bestf because they’re so similar.

Tends to be a little attention deprived.

Can make anyone a friend, LITERALLY.

Krishna group and Dury group come together when it comes to meeting this kid.

Arjuna and Karna put aside their differences to train him for soccer together. One can say Arjuna and Karna could’ve been very good friends had it not been for coach Drona.

“I wish Arjun bhaiya and Karna bhaiya didn’t dislike each other so much.”

(I didn’t include any more kids because there isn’t much to write and I don’t want to make this boring. I’ll leave footnotes if I use any other kids in the fic stories later.)

Present day staff:

(that I forgot to mention)

Virata:

Being helpful makes up for 90% of his personality.

Very approachable.

Never turns his students down.

Volunteers to take up a substitute class whenever possible.

“Let me handle this!”

Keechaka:

The only person who finds him tolerable is Sudeshna.

Extremely controlling.

Filled with toxic masculinity.

Pervert 2.0 (1.0 being Dushasana and 3.0 being Jayadaratha).

Keechaka was passing lewd comments to Draupadi. She was on her way to make him face the consequences but before she reached Bheema had already taken care of him ;).

Shalya:

Indecisive and flaky.

Messes up his schedule and ends up in the wrong classes.

Speaks a lot.

Stubborn.

Always confused.

“I don’t know what I’m doing dude!Let alone why!”

Sudeshna:

Toxic Gossip monger.

Can be very selfish.

Turns blind to her bestf, Keechaka’s glaring and problematic flaws.

Created a scene when Bheem gave Keechaka the beating he deserved.

Also defended him when Yuyutsu publicly called out and humiliated Keechaka for disrespecting women.

Hates Draupadi.

Intolerant.

Can be narrow minded.

“Keechaka isn’t wrong. You have a misunderstanding! These are the ways of the world”

Indra:

Coordinator but everyone ignores him.

Probelmatic in all caps.

Has to interfere everywhere.

Shows up at the worst possible times.

Creates unnecessary problems and then plays the victim card.

Sexist.

“This isn’t a woman’s work.”

Vichitravirya:

Grossly incompetent.

Old.

Is in school only because Satyavati insisted.

Irresponsible.

Doesn’t show up to classes and even when he does the students decide to bunk. He doesn’t even find out.

Has a history of showing up to classes drunk.

“No I’m not drunk. You are.”- passes out in the middle of a lecture.

Senior students in the limelight:

(that I couldn’t fit in the previous post)

Devika:

Quiet.

Happy go lucky.

Literally an angel.

Only one in class who finds Yudhishthir somewhat tolerable.

Is dating the head boy. Nobody understands why she thinks he has potential.

Vrushali:

Sorted and organised.

Probably has more kinds of stick notes than books in her school bag.

Highlighted text books.

Courageous.

Calm but will fight you.

Karna’s girlfriend. Only one who can scold him and show him the right thing to do, ngl.

Vrushali tries very hard to get Karna out of the Dury gang, however, doesn’t try to manipulate/control him.

Once Vrushali dragged Karna while he was mid conversation with Duryodhana, planning to pull a mischief that would land him into trouble. Everyone just stared. It was very iconic.

Valandhara:

Mountain girl uwu.

Industrious to the fullest.

The friend who can calm down Bheem.

Independent.

Vijaya:

Straight A student.

Gives Sahadev full on competition in topping the class.

Nerd.

Reads a lot.

Vijaya looks so cute with her oversized glasses barely able to rest on the bridge of her adorable button nose.

Sahadev fell for her over a conversation about the meaning of life. They kind of have a thing going.

“*random classic literature reference*”

Karenumati:

Is well aware about how pretty she is.

Nakul talks to her without hesitation.

A word around the campus says that Nakul might even ask her out soon.

Shishupal spread the word though, can’t say about the credibility.

Although for some reason Shishupal is very protective of her.

Plays bass and drums.

Link to part 1 of Mahabharata high school AU: https://eclecticwordblender.tumblr.com/post/625462681921568768/foundation

Link to part 2 of Mahabharata high school AU: https://eclecticwordblender.tumblr.com/post/625553068102139904/senior-students-in-the-limelight

This is the last post dealing witch characterisation. I’ll be publishing fictional stories after this. Will leave footnotes if I use a character I haven’t mentioned yet. Let me know if you want me to write about a specific character (via asks, comments or direct messages).

Tagging fandom mutuals because I need attention to matter in life: @bigheadedgirlwithbigdreams @supermeh-krishnafan @soniaoutloud @1nsaankahanhai-bkr @lemponkoira @incorrectmahabharatquotes @chaanv @hoeticulture @hindumythologyevent

The support on this series has been overwhelming so shoutout to these people for all the validation: @the-rambling-maiden @muralofmyths @starsailororastronaut @blueguardian1306

Also, y’all check out @askhindumyths if you like such content uwu.

[acanvasofabillionsuns]

these fools need to learn communication

for @figurative-siren-song‘s Thing!! credits to the fabulous @main-chive and @an-absolute-failure for betaing ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ( ˘ ³˘)♥

Summary: I think the title says it all tbh Warnings: alcohol mention, insecurity, catastrophizing, Virgil panics some + doesn’t have good self care habits, one (1) curse word, Remus is mentioned Wordcount: just a little under 6k

Additional note!! The section that begins with “Remy and Janus are cuddling on Remy’s bed...” is a repeat of the previous scene, but from another POV

Virgil is so tired. It feels like every day there’s some new crisis to deal with or important thing to discuss, and he just wants a couple days to himself to unwind a bit.

But since he can’t get that, he wants a few hours to gripe with someone over everything that’s been going down lately.

Roman is way too dramatic for his tastes, and Patton would probably be too nice about what’s happening. So he goes to Logan. (He briefly toys with the idea of going to one of the Others, but things are… tense with them, so he discards it quickly.)

“Yes?” Logan asks, opening the door to their room.

“I was wondering if you, uh, wanted to complain with me about all the stuff that’s been happening lately? There’s been a lot, and you’ve probably had to deal with more of it than me, and I thought you might like to commiserate? It’s chill if you don’t want to, though,” Virgil says, shifting awkwardly.

“You are welcome to join us.” Logan opens the door wider and steps to the side.

“Us?” Virgil echoes, confused, until he goes inside and sees Janus sitting in a beanbag chair, swirling a wine glass idly. “Oh.”

“Lovely to see you too, Virgil,” fae says dryly.

Virgil scrunches up his nose and wonders if getting to complain about all the recent shenanigans is worth spending time in faer company. Janus mimics the expression—is fae mocking him?—and holds up a bottle of wine, shaking it a little to show that it’s still mostly full. Virgil sighs, shrugs, and conjures a plain beanbag and wine glass, collapsing into the former and holding out the latter to Janus. Fae obligingly fills it, and Virgil leans back in his beanbag, sipping it as Logan sits down.

“So what’re we talking about?” Virgil asks.

“Y’know the other day when…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil squints at Remy.

“Not to be rude,” Logan begins, but Virgil cuts them off.

“What are you doing here?” He demands.

“Real welcoming, Virgil,” Janus remarks snidely.

“He’s intruding on our thing!”

“Yes, and it’s not like you intruded on our thing only a month ago and we were hospitable, right? You totally have the right to snap at Remy.”

“Shut up.”

“Y’all are gossiping, babes,” Remy says. “Why wouldn’t I be here?”

Virgil opens his mouth to protest automatically, then finds that that’s a fair point. Remy does love gossip. He shuts his mouth reluctantly.

“Welcome to the group, Remy,” Janus declares, overexaggerating faer words and smirking at Virgil. He makes a mocking face back but doesn’t comment, crossing his arms as Janus conjures up a beanbag chair for Remy. The little pest. Now everyone but Virgil has a beanbag chair rather than a plain beanbag; this was absolutely deliberate.

Virgil scowls at Janus and sinks further down into his beanbag, letting the conversation flow around him without paying attention to what’s being said. Whatever; at least his seat isn’t a specific shape and therefore can be squished into a different position or turned upside down and still be the same. See any of them try to do that with their chair-shaped beanbags, only good for one shape and if you wanted to shift positions you had to make do with what you had, instead of adjusting the beanbag.

“Virgil?” Logan asks.

“Wh—yeah?”

“Are you alright?”

Virgil pushes himself more upright and sits on his hands. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure, babes?” Remy tilts his head down to look over his sunglasses at him.

“Yeah.” Virgil forces a smile. “Just… need to readjust my beanbag.” He stands up and flips it over, squishing it in a few spaces until it’s like he wants. The other three watch him in silence, making the affair at least twice as awkward as it would’ve been if they’d ignored him. Virgil sits back down, face red. “What’re we talking about?”

“These two were telling me about something that happened with Roman yesterday?” Remy says.

“Oh my gosh,” Virgil groans. “Okay, what do you already know?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is a crisis, Virgil is having a crisis, a dilemma, a predicament, an emergency; sound the alarms, clang the warning bell, and gather the troops, Virgil has a crush.

This shouldn’t be happening! Not allowed! He’s too emotionally unstable to handle it and will mostly likely make a fool out of himself. Which is also absolutely not allowed.

And! The crush is on Janus, which is yet another not allowed thing. Last Virgil checked, he was still just tolerating faer presence, not getting a crush on faer. That’s just plain rude of his brain, please take it back he doesn’t want it.

He looks up at his ceiling, since that’s as far back as Virgil can roll his eyes without being in pain. Okay, he’s staring his brain down, and he’ll stop having a crush in three, two, one—

He pauses, thinks of Janus, groans. That didn’t work. And to be honest he didn’t really expect it to, but it still? would’ve been nice? if his brain could work with him for once??

Virgil sighs and flops backwards.

Okay, if demanding his brain stop having a crush didn’t work, maybe he can just… avoid faer. Maybe it’s just infatuation or something—doesn’t infatuation happen right after you meet someone? His brain asks. Shut up, he tells it—and if he stays away for a few days it’ll go away. That’s probably it.

He glances over at his minifridge and small hoard of non-perishables and mentally calculates. He’s got enough for about a week, that should be plenty enough time.

Virgil waves his hand and his door locks. There. Now he can just. sit around and avoid thinking about Janus until this crush/infatuation/whatever-it-is goes away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is great, Remy is having a great time, get some bells to ring and a rooftop for him to shout off, because Remy has a crush.

To be accurate, he has three: on Janus, Virgil, and Logan. He isn’t exactly sure when they started, only that he just now realized he has them, but he’s definitely not complaining.

He’s also definitely not going to sit around and pine silently for them or something. If he’s going to get rejected, better to get it over with and work on healing than let himself think there might be a chance for however long. (And, yeah, it would definitely hurt, if one or all of them didn’t like him—hurt a lot—but he’s ignoring that part.) And the revelation is giving him an extra burst of confidence (and it’s not like he didn’t already have that in spades) so he’s going to shoot his shot as soon as possible.

His brain decides the most efficient way to confess to the three of them is to wander around the mindscape until he finds them, so he does that until he bumps into Logan.

“Logan,” Remy declares. “I’m gay.”

“Yes,” Logan says, pulling out their flashcards and flipping through a few of them before pulling one out and showing it to him. “‘We been knew’ that, Remy.”

“Nice,” Remy compliments, throwing an arm around their shoulders. “But you see, my dear nerd, I’m gay for you.” He pokes their chest for emphasis.

Logan turns bright red and alternates between wordlessly gaping and stammering so hard Remy can’t make out anything they’re trying to say. They extract themself from Remy’s arm and smooth out their tie, their blush toning down only slightly.

“I… will have to think on this,” Logan says finally, which Remy interprets as Logan for ‘too gay rn; need some time to calm down and consider my feelings’.

“Cool; take all the time you need,” Remy tells them, flashing them a peace sign. “I’m gonna go find Janus and Virgil, see you in a bit.” 

“Alright,” Logan says, and Remy takes that as his cue to wander off in search of his other two crushes.

The next one he runs into is Janus, who he immediately tells “I’m gay.”

“No,” fae snarks. “I thought you were straight.”

Remy gasps and scoffs offendedly (at the same time, because his need to be Dramatic™ at all times overrides any petty things like biology, especially when he’s been teased).

“Well, I was going to say I’m gay for you,” Remy tells faer, pressing a hand to his chest. “But if we’re on such a disconnect I’m just not sure anymore.”

“No, wait!” Janus says. “I’m gay for you too, darling, please.”

Remy immediately decides that any pet names for him are illegal; his face has no right blushing like that just because Janus called him ‘darling’. He covers his face, hoping that’ll hide the blush.

“Fine,” he mutters.

“What was that?” Janus smirks. “I couldn’t hear you through your hands, darling.” Fae gently takes his wrists and pulls his hands down. “There’s your gorgeous face.”

“Rude,” Remy huffs.

“But you’re gay for me anyway,” Janus purrs.

“I regret telling you that.”

“No you don’t.”

“No I don’t,” Remy sighs. “You wanna be boyfriends? Or partners or something, if you don’t want to use ‘boyfriends’?”

“I would love that,” Janus smiles.

“Great, me too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Logan knocks on Remy’s door.

“Come in!”

Logan walks in, sees Remy and Janus cuddling together, puts two and two together and gets four. Oh, they think, they’re dating.

Logan walks in, sees Remy and Janus cuddling together, and squares the twos instead of adding them. I took too long to answer, they assume. Remy must’ve gotten bored or didn’t want to wait and got with Janus instead.

“Oh,” they say. “My apologies. I’ll leave you two be.” They turn to leave.

“Wait, babes,” Remy says. Logan turns to see him stretching out a hand towards them. “What’d you need?”

“I did not need something, per se,” Logan mumbles. “However, I was going to accept Remy’s implied proposition, though it seems I misinterpreted it.”

“Hon, speak up, I can barely hear you,” Remy tells them. “And use less nerd talk; what I could hear I couldn’t understand.”

Logan sighs. “I interpreted your informing me that you are gay for me as you indirectly asking me to be in a relationship with you, but it seems that was a misstep on my part. If you don’t mind, I’ll be taking my leave now before I embarrass myself further.”

“Wait, why do you think I don’t want to be in a relationship with you?” Remy asks.

“It appears that you are dating Janus?” Logan says. “Did I misinterpret that as well?”

“No, we’re dating, but I wanna date you too,” Remy tells them. “If you don’t like Janus like that you don’t have to date faer, as long as you’re cool with sharing me.”

Logan blushes. “That would be satisfactory.”

“Janus?” Remy looks over to faer.

“I’m fine sharing,” Janus says.

“Actually,” Logan admits, blushing harder. “I feel I should confess that I harbor romantic feelings for you as well, Janus—and Virgil too, while I’m admitting these things—though if you do not wish to be in a romantic relationship with me then I am perfectly content to be metamours with you.”

“I’m certainly not opposed to dating you,” Janus tells them.

“So we’re all dating each other, then?” Remy asks.

“It certainly seems that way,” Logan answers, at the same time Janus says, “Yes.”

“Great.” Remy grins. “Come join the ‘yay I’ve got new boyfriends’ pile, Logan.” He pats the empty patch of bed beside him. Logan wrinkles their nose fondly and sits beside Remy, who pulls them down to sprawl across his stomach and onto Janus’s lap. Logan squawks, and tries to pull themself back up, but Remy pushes them back down, declaring, “No sitting up allowed.”

Logan snorts and looks over to Janus. Fae leans forward to kiss their forehead and then settles back against Remy’s side.

“Traitors, the both of you,” Logan huffs, though they can’t stop the smile spreading across their face as they say it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remy and Janus are cuddling on Remy’s bed when someone knocks on the door.

“Come in!” Remy calls. Logan walks in, looks at the two of them.

“Oh, my apologies. I’ll leave you two be.” They turn around. Remy stops them and needles them into admitting that Remy had asked them out—the exact same way he had asked Janus out, fae notes—but that was “a misstep on their part” somehow.

“Wait, why do you think I don’t want to be in a relationship with you?” Remy asks.

“It appears you are dating Janus? Did I misinterpret that as well?”

“No, we’re dating, but I want to date you too,” Remy explains. “If you don’t like Janus like that you don’t have to date faer, as long as you’re cool with sharing me.”

And Janus knows he’s just explaining the situation and Logan’s options, but wow, way to let faer have a say in whether or not fae wants to date Logan or share Remy with them. Fae’s fine with both, but that’s not the point.

“That would be satisfactory.” Logan blushes a pretty shade of pink and unkind thoughts who? Janus doesn’t know them.

“Janus?” Remy looks over to faer, silently asking for faer opinion, and that also helps.

“I’m fine sharing,” Janus confirms.

“Actually,” Logan says, blushing harder and it looks like Janus might just have a new favorite color, wow. “I feel I should confess that I harbor romantic feelings for you as well, Janus—and Virgil too, while I’m admitting these things—though if you do not wish to be in a romantic relationship with me then I am perfectly content to be metamours with you.”

“I’m certainly not opposed to dating you.” Janus grins.

“So we’re all dating each other, then?” Remy asks.

“Yes,” Janus says, while Logan answers with, “It certainly seems that way.”

“Great.” Remy grins. Between that smile and Logan’s blush, Janus just might die from gay. “Come join the ‘yay I’ve got two new boyfriends’ pile, Logan.”

Logan wrinkles their nose—how is faer boyfriend so cute—and sits down. Remy pulls them down on both his and faer laps, and he and Logan struggle briefly.

“No sitting up allowed,” Remy declares, and Logan snickers and looks over to Janus, looking a little like they’re trying to ask for help with their eyes. Janus, being the good boyfriend fae is, kisses their forehead.

“Traitors, the both of you,” Logan accuses, smiling.

“You love us, though,” Remy says.

Logan sighs. “I suppose I do.”

“And,” Remy continues. “You said you like Virgil?”

“Yes,” Logan confirms. “Is that a problem for either of you?”

“None here, babes,” Remy says.

“Here either,” Janus adds. Fae kind of fades out the conversation after that, watching Remy and Logan talk and trying not to let faer negative thoughts get the best of faer.

Because fae can’t help but notice how Logan had confessed to Remy before faer. And Remy had asked Logan out before asking faer out.

And Janus knows they both like faer! They’re all in a relationship! Currently cuddling together!

...Still stings, though. (Fae still feels a little like second place.)

“Janus?”

Fae looks up. “Yeah?”

“What do you think of asking Virgil to join our relationship the day after tomorrow when we do our Thing?” Logan asks.

“Sounds good,” Janus says, smile only a little forced. Fae put faer thoughts firmly aside and rejoins the conversation, enjoying the warmth and comfort of faer boyfriends beside and on top of faer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Logan frowns, tapping their foot anxiously a few times.

“Should we give him another few minutes?” They ask. “It’s already been fifteen.”

“I don’t think he’s coming.” Remy says.

“He’s hidden himself away for a few days before, but he’s never missed our Thing,” Janus points out.

“Yeah.” Remy frowns. “Wonder what’s wrong.”

“Me too,” Logan says.

“You think we should go ask him?” Remy asks.

Logan hums, considering it. If Virgil hadn’t come out for their Thing, whatever was keeping him in his room was serious. “Maybe give him another day or two.”

“Alright.”

Janus grimaces, tapping faer foot rapidly. “Do… do you guys want to do it anyway, even though Virgil’s not here?”

“No,” Logan says immediately, shaking their head.

“Me neither,” Janus sighs, slowing their tapping. 

“Lo, I know you said to leave him alone, but do you think we could still give him a note or something?” Remy asks, frowning. “I’m worried.”

“I am as well,” Logan admits. “And I don’t see why not.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil sighs and pulls his headphones off, unplugging them from his phone. His legs are a little achy, which is probably a sign he’s been sitting for too long and needs to stretch or something.

He wanders over to the pub table he’s got in the corner, thinking that could be a good spot to set his phone while he dances to music (no one’s around to judge him, it’s fun, and it’s a good way to stretch his legs, okay?). 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees something white on the ground by the door. Crouching down to examine it, it looks like a piece of paper someone folded in half and shoved under the door. Frowning in confusion, he unfolds it.

“Hey, Virgil!” it reads. “It’s been a few days since you emerged from your room and we’re a little worried. Hope you’re alright! Missed you at the Thing today.” It’s signed by Janus, Remy and Logan, though scribbled to the side is the addition, “Apologies for Remy’s poor grammar. I hope you are well. -Logan”

Virgil’s brain latches onto “Missed you at the Thing today.” They’d done it without him? It was their Thing and they’d just excluded him? Had they only noticed he hadn’t left his room because he wasn’t at the Thing? Were they upset he wasn’t there? Like ‘where in the world were you; we had to do the Thing without you’? You aren’t a necessary part of the group, his brain whispers to him, but you bailed on them and they’re mad about it.

Virgil clamps his hands over his ears and plops to the floor. Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, he tells his mind. They don’t hate me; they gave me a letter to check in with me while respecting that I might not want to come out and not wanting to force me to.

Really? Or maybe they just couldn’t be bothered to do more than shove a note under the door.

Shut up.

Virgil focuses on doing his 4-7-8 breathing method and firmly ignores his mind telling him his friends now hate him. When his breathing is finally steady and his brain’s stopped hissing poison, he slowly relaxes his muscles and takes his hands off his ears.

Your friends are still your friends, he reminds himself. They’re concerned about your wellbeing, not mad at you, and they still like you.

Platonically, his mind adds sourly. Virgil frowns at the thought.

So far his plan to get rid of his crush on Janus had only revealed his crushes on Logan and Remy as well. Turns out when you’re avoiding thinking about one friend you like, your mind will just go to your other two friends and present some shiny new ‘liking them as more than friends’ idea to you. Which is just more incentive to hide in his room as long as he can.

Virgil sighs, standing up and placing the note facedown on the table. He’s got the majority of a week before he has to face anyone, and even if he doesn’t feel like dancing anymore, he’s still got plenty to do to occupy his time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Logan knocks firmly on Virgil’s door.

“Virgil,” they call. “It has been five days since anyone has seen you outside your room. This has not happened before and we are all concerned. Please come out to ease our worries.”

No answer. They wait a full minute, their fist still half-raised from knocking, but still nothing.

“Move, please,” Remy says, inserting himself in Logan’s place as they step out of the way. He begins knocking loudly and quickly, barely a step down from banging. “Virgil! Get your pretty ass out here!”

No sign Virgil’s heard anything.

“Maybe he’s asleep?” Logan suggests.

“At 4PM?” Janus asks. “Virgil doesn’t nap and even a night owl like him doesn’t sleep in this late.”

Logan frowns. “Virgil is not an owl—”

“It’s an expression,” Remy explains.

“Ah.”

“Virgil,” Janus tries. “We’re all really worried. Please just open the door? You don’t even have to come out, just let us know you’re alright in there.”

They all watch the doorknob hopefully for a minute. When nothing happens, Remy sighs.

“I don’t think he’s comi—”

There’s a little shrsh of paper brushing against something as a post-it slides under the door. Janus snatches it up eagerly and the other two crowd beside faer to read it.

“I’m fine. Not coming out, sorry.”

Remy sighs again.

“At least we know he’s alright?” Logan offers.

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaning against them. “I’m just worried, y’know? Just a post-it doesn’t really help.”

“I do know; I’m worried too. However, there is nothing we can do to get Virgil out of his room, short of forcing our way inside and dragging him, until he’s ready.”

“Yeah,” Remy says again.

“Wanna go cuddle until we all feel a little better?” Janus offers. Remy smiles softly.

“Yeah.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil scowls at his minifridge. It’s empty, the traitor, and he’s run out of all the food in his room. He has to go out and possibly encounter other people. A tragedy.

He leaves his room at midnight, of course. Less chance of running into people, plus then when Roman makes a comment about how “it’s nice to see you’ve finally emerged from your room” Virgil can laugh at his confusion when he tells him he came out of his room a while ago, princey, where’ve you been?

Less chance of running into people doesn’t equal no chance, unfortunately, and Patton is in the kitchen baking cookies when Virgil comes out to raid it. A weird time to be baking, but Virgil will probably get warm cookies out of it, so he doesn’t question it.

“Hey, Pat,” he greets.

“Hey, kiddo! Good to see you.”

“You too,” Virgil says, shooting him a finger gun. “Anything interesting happen while I was in my room?”

Patton hums thoughtfully. “Remus switched the sugar and salt and the flour and powdered sugar this morning. I borrowed the Lilo and Stitch DVD the other day and Roman and Remus got in a fight about whether or not Roman was hiding it from Remus. Logan stayed up all night on Tuesday and collapsed around lunchtime Wednesday. Janus found another snake in the Imagination and Roman had to steal it to return it home. Oh! Logan and Janus and Remy all got together.”

Virgil freezes. “Like, got together and talked like the four of us usually do?”

“Nope! In a relationship. About the time you hid away in your room, actually.” Patton giggles a little. “It’s been really cute; Remy and Janus carried Logan upstairs after his allnighter and they’re all very sweet together.”

“Oh,” Virgil says, trying not to sound hopelessly crushed.

“Virgil?” Patton asks, turning around to look at him. “You okay?”

He forces a smile. “Just peachy.”

Patton snorts. “I doubt that, but I won’t pry if you don’t want to tell me.”

“Thanks,” Virgil says, smile more genuine now. “Anything else to report?”

“Mmm, I don’t think so,” Patton says. “But if you like, I read a really good book the other day and I could share the plot with you?”

“Sounds good,” Virgil tells him, pushing himself up on the counter as Patton launches into a rambly explanation of the storyline. They pause in the middle to pull the cookies out of the oven, and then munch on them as Patton finishes the story.

“...And then it ends on a nice, hopeful, the-future-holds-great-things ending!” Patton concludes.

“Nice,” Virgil says, shooting Patton a little smile, who returns a beaming one. “Thanks for telling me about it.”

“Thanks for listening!” Patton returns.

“Do you mind if I…” Virgil gestures towards the cookies.

“Take as many as you like,” Patton tells him. Leaning forward conspiratorially, he adds, “If you take all of them and someone washes all the dishes, then the others won’t know there were cookies to have in the first place.”

“Thanks, Patton.”

Virgil scoops up the rest of the cookies—about a dozen or so—and bids Patton goodnight before heading back into his room. He gets a little resealable baggie to slide all the cookies into and sets it on his table.

Then, with nothing else to occupy his mind, he dwells over the fact that Janus, Remy, and Logan are all in a relationship.

Patton said they’d gotten together about the time he locked himself in his room. Had they noticed he wasn’t anywhere to be found and immediately gotten together? And then only given him the note and knocked on his door out of a sense of obligation or something? And maybe because they were mad at him for missing the Thing? They wouldn’t do that.

Would they?

He doesn’t think so.

He hopes not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What?”

“Hey, Janus, it’s okay! He’s probably just sleeping or something!”

“No, he doesn’t get to come out at midnight after he’s been in his room for a week and then not come out for breakfast or something so the rest of us can know he’s alive!” Janus fumes. Fae marches over to Virgil’s room and bangs on the door. “Open up before I kick the door down!”

Janus gives him three seconds before fae backs up, planning to kick the door down. Fae could do it. Fae’d seen an article online.

“Jay, honey, wait,” Remy says, putting a hand on faer shoulder. “I’m upset too, but I’m not going to kick his door down.”

“No, because I’m going to do it for you.”

“Can we not kick my door down?” Janus turns to see Virgil, standing half in his doorway, but still out of his room. Fae immediately drags him all the way out and into a hug.

“Only if you promise not to do that again,” fae tells him.

“Fine,” Virgil sighs. He half raises his arms, then hesitates.

“Hug me back, dummy,” Janus demands. Virgil chuckles a little and hugs faer. After a bit longer, Janus gives a final squeeze before releasing him, moving back a step and brushing faerself off. “That was because I missed you, but if you breathe a word of that to anyone I’ll prank you for a week.” Fae punches him. “And that was because you worried me, jerk.”

“Ow!” Virgil rubs his arm. “Sorry for worrying you.”

“Try not to sound too sincere now.” Fae crosses faer arms and rolls faer eyes.

“I really am sorry for worrying you,” Virgil says. “All of you,” he adds, looking over to where Remy and Logan had been silently watching their exchange.

“You’re forgiven,” Remy tells him. “If I get a hug too.”

Virgil shrugs loosely. “Sure.” He hugs Remy, then turns to Logan. They open their arms, and Virgil sinks into them. Janus steals another hug from Virgil once he pulls away from Logan.

“Sap,” Virgil teases.

“You can’t prove anything.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things have… gone back to normal. Technically.

Virgil hasn’t hidden away for longer than a day again, and even then, it only happened once. They’ve kept doing their Thing every week or so, and to the outside observer nothing would appear different than it had been before.

But it’s… kind of like when one “cleans their room” by shoving all their stuff into a closet. The room may appear neat, but things haven’t been put in their place, just pushed to the side to be ignored.

Similarly, there seems to be a barely-there tension in their interactions with Virgil. Logan doesn’t usually notice it, but sometimes, in lulls of conversation or merely at random intervals, they’ll feel it, simmering under the surface of things. They don’t like it, both because tension, as a rule, is uncomfortable, and because they don’t know why it’s there.

They suspect it has something to do with why Virgil locked himself in his room for a week. He still hasn’t told them why he’d done it, shrugging off any questions or deflecting the conversation away from the topic.

They also think it probably has at least a little to do with the fact that Janus, Remy, and themself still have not informed Virgil of their relationship.

Virgil is smart, and very observant. He has almost certainly picked up on the fact that the three of them are dating. He is also the type of person to pretend he doesn’t know something if he feels it is being kept secret from him, and the type to internally question why information is being “withheld” from him, and assume it is something he has done.

Logan knows this, and has been pushing Janus and Remy to tell Virgil about their relationship. Janus and Remy think they should wait longer, give Virgil more time. The first couple of weeks after Virgil emerged from his room, Logan could excuse, because they’d been rediscovering their rhythm. But enough time has passed that they have all settled back into their rhythm and now they need to inform Virgil of their relationship and correct any misconceptions he most likely has over why they have taken so long to tell him.

To return to the bedroom comparison from earlier, Logan has never been one to shove things into a closet and proclaim a room clean. Everything should be put in its place and the only things to go in the closet should be things that belong there.

This weird tension and putting off informing Virgil of their relationship do not go in “the closet.”

So, a month after the week Virgil locked himself in his room, Logan opens the figurative closet door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We’re in a relationship,” Logan tells Virgil at one of their Things. Janus and Remy’s gazes both snap over to Logan warningly, but the cat is out of the proverbial bag and this has been a long time coming anyway. “Remy, Janus, and I.”

Virgil stares for a moment.

“Cool,” he says finally. “Congratulations.” And then, since he’s a petty jerk, “Since I locked myself in my room for a bit, right?”

The three of them exchange glances.

“Yes,” Janus tells him.

“How’d you know that, doll?” Remy asks.

“Patton told me.” Virgil half-shrugs. Before he can stop himself, he adds, “Saw your chance and took it, huh?”

Logan blinks. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s nothing,” Virgil says. If he tells them, they’re going to “correct” him, even if he’s right and they just feel bad about it.

“Um, no, that’s clearly not nothing, hon,” Remy sort of laughs, though his expression is serious. Virgil shrugs again, this time with both shoulders.

“Virgil,” Janus commands. “Tell us.”

Virgil rolls his eyes and tips his head back so he doesn't have to look at them. “I’m just saying, we’re all sort of a group, and you didn’t want to feel awkward with the three of you getting together and me not, so once you noticed I was out of the way, you took the opportunity and asked each other out.”

“No,” Remy corrects, because that is so far from what actually happened it might as well be on the other side of the planet. “That is definitely not what happened, V, dear.”

“Sure,” Virgil agrees, in a way that says he clearly doesn’t believe him but doesn’t want to fight over it.

“You think we, what—saw you locked yourself in your room and decided that was a good chance to exclude you?” Logan asks incredulously.

Virgil snaps and points at them. “That would be what happened.”

“That’s not what happened,” Logan insists.

“Look,” Virgil says, tilting his head up to look at the three of them. “You don’t have to lie to me to be nice or spare my feelings or whatever. I get it.”

“I don’t think you do,” Janus tells him.

“Then explain it to me.”

“I realized how gay I was,” Remy explains. “Ran into Jan and Lo, asked them out, and we all got together. We decided to ask you at the next one of these Things we had, since that was the next time we were guaranteed to all be together alone. When you didn’t show up, we got worried but wanted to give you space, so we mostly left you be until Patton told us you’d come out and then we pulled you out of your room because we figured you were ready enough to come out.”

“And then, what, you just chose not to tell me you guys were dating for a month?” Virgil asks.

“We were trying to find a good time,” Logan tells him.

“It’s been a month; there’s been plenty of time,” Virgil snaps.

Then he stops, tilts his head to the side.

“Wait…” he says slowly. “Did— Did you say ‘ask me’? Like, ask me out?”

“Yeah, duh,” Remy replies.

“You guys like me?”

“I doubt we would hang out with you every week if we disliked you, Virgil.” Janus rolls faer eyes.

“You guys like me romantically?” Virgil amends.

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

“Duh.”

Virgil curls himself up, burying his head in his knees as he processes this. Remy gently lays a hand on his knee.

“It’s okay if you don’t like us back, or only like one or two of us, hon,” Remy tells him. “But we’d like you to join our relationship, if you’ll have us.”

The knee starts trembling under his hand, and Remy realizes Virgil’s crying. “Oh, hon…” He gathers him up in a hug.

“I—I thought you were avoiding telling me because you didn’t want me to know,” Virgil stammers through his tears. “I thought you’d noticed I left and saw that as your chance to get together without me being around. I thought— I thought—” He starts crying too hard to talk.

Remy holds him, and Janus and Logan move over to them and help whisper assurances that no, they would never, that they love him so much and they’re so sorry it came to this. Their hands on his knee and back and Remy’s arms around him are bright spots of warmth that Virgil relishes.

He cries until he thinks he can’t, until one of them murmurs, “We’re here; we love you,” and sends him to fresh tears. He cries for an hour, at least, and when he’s truly sobbed out all the hurt over this inside him, the other three are still there with him.

“Sorry,” Virgil whispers, not fully trusting his voice.

Logan frowns. “What for?”

He gestures a little to the huddle they’re in. “Messing up this. Crying on you guys for like an hour.”

“You haven’t messed up anything,” Remy assures him. “And we’re happy to let you cry on us all you want.”

“Better than shoving your emotions down and ignoring them as they fester,” Janus adds.

“Yeah, I guess.” Virgil nods and scrubs at his face. “Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome,” Logan says.

“This might be a bad time,” Remy says, “and feel free to tell me off if it is, but does this mean you want to be our boyfriend?”

Virgil laughs, a little wetly. “Yeah. I’d really like that.”

“Good,” Remy says. “We would, too.”

“Celebratory ‘we gained a boyfriend’ cuddles,” Janus declares, pulling them over to the bed. No one resists, and they cuddle until they fall asleep on each other.

[yibuo]

love your hot takes! was wondering if you could give your two cents on shipping/rpf in relation to idol culture, how more often than not these pairings are subtly if not overtly used as a marketing tool etc. I’m all for freedom of expression / fandom consumption as long as the fourth wall is respected but given recent developments in c-ent I feel like we’re treading on thinner and thinner ice....

EDIT you asked for my two cents and i gave u my entire bank account. nice

ok i wasn’t sure how to answer this tbh without possibly getting attacked but i have a pretty strong opinion of rpf/shipping and how people take it to the extremes and i talked to oomf who validated me so here i go

tldr i mean people can take part in shipping/rpf if they want to and if they keep it lowkey but there’s a boundary as to how far shipping/rpf can go and there are too many instances of where people insert rpf/shipping in places that are unacceptable and this goes for all real ppl pairings 

i’m not meaning to offend anyone, and in no way are my opinions discriminatory, but also, if you’re someone who’s gonna make HUGE stretches regarding to celebrities and push your favorite ships in totally unrelated things, maybe you should step back and think about how your actions can affect your favorite people

and i’m totally stealing this from oomf, but here’s a thought:  if you ask yourself  'if i met this person irl, would i feel embarassed if they looked me in the eyes and i read this out loud to them' and if the answer is 'i would look like a pervert stalker' then like........maybe don't do what you’re doing?  

pls respect ur faves is all n don’t make them uncomfortable ! ! and also pls don’t fetishize same sex relationships !

anyway

ok so let me start by saying i’m a seventeen stan and when i was 15-16 y/o i shipped svt members, read rpf, etc, but never really was into overanalyzing every touch or gaze. i obviously enjoyed my favorite pairings interact and i read romantic fics about them. i wasn’t really into reading smut because for me, personally, fics using the members’ names and personalities even in au kinda made smut feel like visualizing the members in a sexual context and i felt like i was crossing a fan boundary, like, would my idol be comfortable with me seeing them in a sexual context with another member they tell us they consider as friends/brothers/sisters? or just in general, would they be comfortable with me thinking of them sexually? but hey, if it was a good fic i would just skip over the smut because good fics are good fics. now idk if it’s because i’m older, or other changes? i don’t really do romantic shipping or read rpf, i stick to reading fics about fictional characters because that’s what makes me comfortable (like if i ever rb two members’ interactions on my main, i stick to just tagging the members instead of their ship name, same goes on here for real people) and i still very much am uncomfortable w/ real people smut literature and art, but that’s just me

ok you see shipping a lot in idol culture because idols are in groups and members spend a good 90% of their time together, so whatever cute interactions you see  kinda lead to people shipping two (or more ig) members. i never really thought about idol shipping culture from a marketing perspective, so i asked some of my friends, and one of them made a really good point about how some ships are more popular than others, and these interactions on shows and stuff might be a strategic/marketing tactic to lure in new fans because of the “ships” being cute. i don’t know how true this actually is, but it kinda made sense. for example, in svt, mingyu x wonwoo is a super popular ship, compared to ships like the8 x vernon which no one ever talks about, even though we know that all the members love each other equally and wholeheartedly. so yeah, there probably is a subtle pushing of certain ships in order to gain momentum in attracting more fans to the group

also i’m gonna be using wonwoo and mingyu as examples but i’m not targetting anyone or anything, just hypothetical situations w/ an idol ship that i noticed to affect the members because how out-of-control SOME stans are

so as i said in my tldr, i don’t really mind romantic shipping, as long as it’s 1) lowkey 2) not pushed in places that it doesn’t belong and 3) not mentioned among the members

keeping it lowkey- pushing ships in everyone’s faces gets annoying. sometimes fans just want to enjoy idols’ content as they give it to us and frankly, it’s a little offputting when you’re trying to watch something or enjoy something and hoards of fans are fangirling over a gaze or a touch between 2 members. keep it on your private acct, or in a group chat, not in the youtube comment section of the video. but still, men and women are allowed to touch each other and show affection without it being romantic, and i feel like shipping culture kinda invalidates the platonic relationship. like unless a pairing is confirmed to be dating, why even bother with overanalyzing these gazes or touches. and no, it’s not homophobic for non-rpf fans to be annoyed, because sometimes fans just want to see the members as they portray themselves to be rather than finding a deeper (and unconfirmed) meaning behind every small thing. fans being like “bro it’s just the touch of two hands it’s not that deep” is not the same thing as fans going “ewww i’m’ not supporting them if they’re not straight” . and sometimes i feel like people try to twist non-rpfers words and call them homophobic if they’re not for shipping when sometimes people don’t wanna romantically visualize 2 people if they’re an unconfirmed couple. how can you use lgbt struggles, which is an issue in society, to fight against people who simply don’t do rpf?? how are you use that as a weapon and for what ??? (also a good amount of people who do this are lgbt fetishizers who aren’t lgbt themselves bye i said it) why can’t we all jus be friends dudes

ok but if you’re against your idols dating someone of the same gender, that’s homophobic and you needa get that checked

but that’s different from treating two members as friends rather than bfs

but this being lowkey concept applies to any pairing, straight or gay, just keep it lowkey dudes. (like for ex we see yibo and meng meiqi shippers, which also doesn’t make sense to me because it’s based off of literal crumbs but ok) it’s ok to be rpfer or non-rpfer as long as you’re respecting the idols and keeping their best interests in mind

respect ur faves pls

not pushed in places that it doesn’t belong- people need to stop bringing up ships and pairings in randomass places. for example, if wonwoo is doing a interview, with mingyu being nowhere in sight, and he’s talking about his hobbies and interests without ever mentioning mingyu, what’s the need to bring up mingyu?? people do it and it’s so... weird? like wonwoo can do things without being constantly associated mingyu? one of my BIGGEST pet peeves is when shippers make these ships such a HUGE part of a members’ identitiy, when the members are doing so much w/ their lives? like no, not every move wonwoo makes, and every breath he takes is related to mingyu, but people still wanna have the audacity to mention mingyu in something completely unrelated? what’s your point?

RESPECT UR FAVES

not mentioned among the members in an uncomfy manner- like if you’re interacting with a real person, why are you gonna bring up a ship they’re included in when you have so many other things to talk about?? like ok it’s one thing to ask someone on a livestream “hey this event you guys did on xxxx show was funny, what’s the tea behind that” but it’s not okay to just mention a ship with no relation and no context to the situation. again, this counts as rpf-ers and shippers attributing a single ship to an idol’s identity much more than what it actually counts as. no, wonwoo is not 70% made of mingyu lover and vice versa. we actually saw this between mingyu and wonwoo as people kept pushing meanie (the ship) to their faces, and we saw (and  still see) a much more decreased amount of interaction between them compared to them predebut, because shippers couldn’t stay in their lane. so yes, out-of-control shipping DOES affect idols and can be harmful to their relationships if you don’t control it

^ so y’all see why i feel so strongly about this, because it literally can affect these idols’ relationships on screen

JUST RESPECT UR FAVES

again, this applies for any pairing of any sexuality, i’m just using wonwoo x mingyu as an example because it’s something i saw when i was into rpf. i love both mingyu and wonwoo and they are wholesome together. i have friends who ship them and i’m completely ok with that because they do it without posing any harm to the members, but some people just need to take a chill pill and a seat and calm down ????

so i completely understand that shipping/rpf serves as a creative outlet for lgbt+ folks and that’s completely fine, inspiration, love, cool cool cool. just don’t be so pushy about small interactions especially directly to idols. and as for rpf-ers, don’t let rpf give you a reason to start fetishizing same-sex relationships, that shits weird and problematic...pls

again, if you ask yourself  'if i met this person irl, would i feel embarassed if they looked me in the eyes and i read this out loud to them' and if the answer is 'i would look like a pervert stalker' then like........maybe don't do what you’re doing?  

lol so this is why i’m much more comfortable w/ fictional shipping, because these people don’t exist in the real world and don’t have actual lives and relationships to protect 

just respect ur faves omg and we’ll be fine

“given recent developments in c-ent” and me being a yibo stan and you sending me this strongly leads me to believe you’re referring to out of control bjyx cpf (yizhan shippers)  LOL

i don’t follow much c-ent besides xnine, uniq, r1se, and sometimes unine and the nine percent members, and honestly im not too into the fan culture so i dont follow ships there? so i’ll focus on. this ship

to be completely honest, shipping for idol groups makes some sense to me because idol group members are with each other most of the time, that’s literally their job

shipping actors who haven’t confirmed that they’re dating/no proof doesn’t really make sense to me at all--they work on one project together, and they’re off to their next., with or without each other . we don’t know if they keep in contact every day, much less if they’re into each other, but each to their own! my opinions and takes aren’t perfect and as long as you’re respecting your faves, it is ok~

ok so i’ll start of with saying: obviously, i love yibo. i love xiao zhan. they’re cute nd wholesome and evidently had good times together and learned a lot from each other regarding acting and being in the industry and just developing as people together. good for them, we love character development. amazing

is pushing bjyx a marketing tactic? most definitely yeah by tencent thanks tencent. i think you can see this through the amount of bts videos there are with just bjyx in comparison to other bts videos/interviews, even though there are many more important characters apart from wwx and lwj in cql, we don’t see as much side cast interactions as bjyx, and if we do, there aren’t that many w/ other cast members and yibo and xiao zhan?? relatively speaking

so yeah i think pushing this yibo x xiao zhan thing definitely was a tactic to further the momentum that wangxian was already having to attract stans, and it worked. like i LOVE watching yibo and xiao zhan bts videos because they are two goofs. love them. love my boys. love their camaraderie. and if people wanna ship, then go ship. cool! just be casual pls

i think where this becomes a problem is when people start projecting wangxian’s relationship onto yibo and xiao zhan because...the latter are real people. yibo and xiao zhan =/= wangxian !!!!!! (ok first of all yibo is a gremlin how can he be the wang in wangxian in real life)  what wyb and xz show us in videos is nowhere near what wangxian is hJKNDJNWD and i see so many people just equate the two pairings...nooo... and combining everything mxtx writes about wangxian in the novel and projecting that onto wyb and xz...i don’t think that’s the move dudes they have their own lives they’re not wangxian

my BIGGEST pet peeve is when people wholly credit wyb’s development as an actor and as a person to xz and vice versa. i cannot tell you how many times i see posts saying “wyb brought xz out of his shell” and vice versa and things like “xz looks like he’s having much more fun than he is when he’s with xnine, they’re soulmates” and etc

both wyb and xz have had years of industry experience before getting to know each other. they’ve gone through some of the lowest points of their careers before even getting to know each other well, and they’ve both found Their People in the industry before finding each other. to say that wyb brought xz out of his shell in a summer’s worth of filming based on some bts videos is just so unfair to the bonds xz has made with his other colleagues and xnine  members and the accomplishments he’s had before cql. same with wyb and his career prior to cql. and his uniq members, his ttxs bros, and all his other colleagues. these 2 have gone through some shit with their idol groups and it’s just not fair for cpfs to erase the significance of their career prior to cql to support and find a leverage for their shipping. i’m not saying all cpfs do this, but there is  a Good Amount That Do and it pisses fans like me off

they are not each others saviours bye

also  “xz looks like he’s having much more fun than he is when he’s with xnine, they’re soulmates”, if you guys ever watch xnine videos, you’ll know that xnine is Loud. with members like wu jiacheng and peng chuyue being so loud and extroverted, it kinda makes xiao zhan relatively quieter. but he’s still a gremlin and troublemaker and it’s not like he isn’t having fun. he’s just louder w/ yibo because yibo is more introverted than xz. relationship dynamics are relative to the relationship cmon people !!!! this is basic knowledge !!!! anyway that was a side tangent but ya

but ya my point is, wyb and xz have their own careers and they’re doing their own things now, and it’s unnecessary to bring up xz in an unrelated wyb post/article and vice versa, and it’s just so so unnecessary to link them in everything??? like i heard that cpfs prevented xz from keeping his nomination for an award because yibo wasn’t nominated so xz lost the nomination ./rolls eyes

anyway my point being, if you wanna ship them then go ahead! just do it normally and don’t bring up the ship in unrelated places (like other dramas, tv shows, etc where they’re not together), don’t spam them with bjyx related things, don’t make weird stretches/connections?? the other day on twt i saw a twt about uniq wenhan’s drama, where he was being referred to as xiao zhan (little zhan) in the drama (different  “xiao” and “zhan” characters than actor xz’s name) and i saw cpfs go “omg theYRE CALLING HIM XIAO ZHAN??? IS THIS FATE OR” like no it isnt maam it’s just a name stop reaching

ANYWAY UNNECESSARY SIDE RANTS BUT MY MAIN POINT is that people are allowed to be shippers and take part in rpf, but don’t make their identities “____’s lover”, don’t look past their current and past achievements for the sake of your ship, don’t erase their relationships with other people for the sake of your ship, stop bringing your ship into things that are only related to one person/aren’t related to your ship, stop saying creepy things about your ship (if you think the ship people would be uncomfrotable with what you say about them you probably shouldn’t be saying it)

just. respect ur faves pls no matter who they’re with ...just respect them ty

stan yibo stan xiao zhan stan uniq stan xnine

comment ur fav yibo and xiao zhan moment below

like comment subscibe

ok bye mic drop 

[thepunkbug]

Shit babes, do I have some tea for you.

So I’ve been catching up on TikTok recently cause I deleted it a few weeks ago and redownloaded cause I missed wasting time on it. One of the people I follow is Ryan McCartan, and for those of you who don’t know, he is very politically active on Instagram and TikTok. He’s left-leaning and recently posted some videos stating that all white people, by virtue of being white and benefitting from that whiteness, are racist, and of course people freaked out about it. I’m not gonna get into that cause it’s a big discussion, but long story short, he isn’t wrong and there was more to it than that.

It sounds to me like someone reported the video for racist content (which it didn’t have, he wasn’t using slurs or anything, he was just talking about how white people benefit from racism), and people have been giving him shit. I camped out in one of the comment sections, calling out people who didn’t even watch the video before it was taken down, and I come across someone. . . ignorant.

Before I continue, some minor background stuff. My TikTok bio has my pronouns in them (she/her or they/them), and I identify most with she/her, but have no problems being referred to by they/them either. I put them in to normalize it and so people don’t misgender me, and I do this on every social media platform I can. Now, I’d normally use they/them pronouns for interactions with people online when they don’t make their pronouns clear. However, this person - let’s call him Dot - criticized my use of pronouns in my bio, and there’s a picture of an American football player in his profile picture, so I’ma just assume this is a cis guy I’m quarrelling with here.

More below the cut (this is a hefty boyo).

Okay, here we go again! Someone commented something ignorant, to which someone replied with “go cry about it.” Someone complained about that, and a second person replied with “go cry about it.” I rather enjoy this, since they’re getting upset over nothing and there’s no use arguing with dumb people, so I think this is something we should normalize.

Anyway, Dot replies to someone, something like “imagine copying someone else,” so I replied to him with “yeah? go cry about it.” Very witty, I know. I’m so very proud of myself.

From here on out, I’m just gonna do the back-and-forth dialogue, it’s easier that way.

Dot: imagine telling someone “go cry about it” when you cry if someone misgenders you (cry-laughing emoji)

Me: you are so damn sensitive and ignorant. would you like a hug? a sticker? go cry about it lmao

Dot: imagine barking at people (three cry-laughing emojis) and don’t call me sensitive when you tried to cancel everything that breathes

We’re mixing tenses here, and he’s saying something completely ungrounded and untrue, but I digress.

Me: literally what are you talking about? you’re the one tryna cancel Ryan for making a really good point. and hey, guess what? go cry about it fool (two laughing emojis)

Dot: I didn’t try to cancel him and it wasn’t a good point. Calm down they them she

Me: 1, if you don’t see the validity in what he said, that’s on you. 2, thanks for using my pronouns! how kind of you boo.

Dot: your welcome sweetheart. I wouldn’t want you to cancel me (wide-eyed emoji)

I refrained from complaining about the pet name, since I just used one and that wouldn’t be fair or make sense. Also, it’s “you’re.”

Me: oh don’t worry, you’re not important or significant enough to cancel. you’re safe!

This seemed to strike a chord.

Dot: sweetheart y’all canceled a 12 year old for posting a meme that has the n word in it

Dot: So i definitely think I’m significant enough for you to cancel

Dot: Also don’t call someone else in significant if you think it’s necessary to have your pronouns in your bio bc people wouldn’t be able to tell otherwise

First of all, he made no sense. Second of all, an insult? The delivery was weird and I was a little distracted by how insignificant is now somehow two separate words.

Me: what 12 year old? what meme?

Me: you’re not. you’re really not.

Me: idek what you’re trying to say here. I put my pronouns in so ppl know and to normalize it. if that bothers you...go cry about it?

Dot: sweetheart calm down it’s a joke

He has overused his pet name pass. Either that or I up the ante (which I think I do eventually).

Dot: my pronouns are nor/mal. I didn’t feel like it’s necessary to put them in my bio but I’ll tell you since you seem to care about pronouns so much

Progress? Perhaps?! I’m not sure. It’s unclear.

Me: I don’t laugh at things that aren’t funny babes.

Me: all pronouns are normal lmao, he, she, they, etc. if you wanna tell me then sure! wouldn’t wanna misgender you.

He has yet to further respond. I think I left off pretty civil, all things considered. If he (or they, or she, or anything else) decides to pick this back up, I’ll probably be nicer. It’s possible I can be a good influence on him! Convert him, so to speak. Wouldn’t that be neat?

I’ll make sure to update if there are any further developments. If you read this far, here, enjoy a picture of my cat giving me no personal space. He’s a dummy and a sweetheart lol I love him.

Until next time!

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

The Weekend - Student Council Pt. 2

*Lafayette x Reader

*Summary: The weekend approaches and Reader needs to actually see what Alexander’s budget has. A social life is getting in the way of that.

*Warnings: None, I think. Let me know if I missed anything.

*A/N: So, I’m done with my first year of undergrad! I officially declared my major and so much shit has gone on, y’all.

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven

**********

You had just finished working on your homework and finally got the chance to pull up Alexander’s budget proposal. As you started reading the first sentence of the introduction to the proposal - which was long winded, in typical Alexander Hamilton fashion - when your phone lit up with a message from Lafayette. You groaned at your boyfriend’s terrible timing, knowing he was there to pick you up. You sincerely hoped that Alexander wouldn’t bug you about reading his proposal or else you just might vote against him in spite. Voting out of spite really just depended on who annoyed you at the time, and in student council that could be anyone.

“You know, I was just about to read Alex’s proposal,” you said as soon as you opened Lafayette’s car door.

“I thought I told you that it could wait for the night, mon amour,” he replied, a brow raised.

“Yeah, yeah, but I don’t know if he’s gonna bring it up or not and I really don’t want him trying to convince me,” you told him.

“I talked to him after school, he promised not to talk about it,” Lafayette reassured you.

“And how often does Alexander actually stick to his promises when it’s against something he wants?” You asked pointedly. Lafayette sat in silence for a second, knowing you were right, before he put the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway. You smirked a little in victory.

“We should go before the others start calling,” Lafayette deflected instead. You had to keep yourself from laughing at the obvious attempt to avoid your question.

“Yeah, that’s what you’re worried about,” you said, still fighting your laughter. Lafayette shot you a warning glance before focusing on the road once again. You placed your hand on top of his, looking at him with a small smile just to make sure he knew you were just teasing. When he responding with a small smile of his own, you took your hand back and decided to check the group chat to see where the others were.

By the time you and Laf got to the movie theater, everyone else was already there, waiting on the two of you. As you walked up to the group, Eliza held out two tickets to you. “Alright, who do I owe money to?” you asked, looking at each person. When you looked at Alexander, it was obvious that he was holding his tongue for once in his life. It looked like he was actually taking his promise to Lafayette seriously, and you appreciated that.

“Don’t worry about it, Laf already Venmoed me. Also, I promise I won’t say anything about the budget proposal, but if you look at it then it really is-”

“Alexander, enough,” Eliza cut him off with a stern look. You and Lafayette exchanged a look - an annoyed Eliza was definitely not one to try even the slightest bit. Alexander immediately put his hands up in surrender, coming to the exact same conclusion you and Laf already had. “Now, we’re going to watch this movie and ignore everything having to do with ASB for the night.”

“I think you spoke too soon, looks like ASB’s coming to us,” Hercules muttered, just barely loud enough for you to catch. You followed his gaze across the lobby and internally groaned at the sight of Burr, Jefferson, and Madison walking towards your group.

“(y/n), what a pleasant coincidence,” Jefferson said as soon as they were within earshot.

“It really isn’t, though,” Alexander decided to speak up. You held up a hand to silence them both before it escalated any more.

“Jefferson, I’m not talking business with anyone tonight if I’m hanging out with my friends. Just like you can act out of pure spite, I can as well,” you told him, the threat clear in your tone. Lafayette wrapped his arm around you then, bringing you back down to a point of near calm.

“Mon ami, she already told you she will have her decision by next week. ASB doesn’t have to take up every waking moment, you know,” Lafayette backed you up.

“Maybe it’s a bit unfair to expect you to have an answer already, but it would do you good to remember our offer,” Jefferson replied, ignoring Laf’s comment. You just rolled your eyes, not in the mood to deal with him. Then again, you were never in the mood to deal with Jefferson.

“Thomas, we need to go. My mom’s gonna be back soon and you know I have to be back before she is,” Madison decided to speak up. You were a little taken aback by that; you didn’t know Madison’s parents were that strict. “(Y/n), sorry to bother you. I hope you all have a good rest of your night.” With that, Madison directed their small group out of the theatre.

“I guess Burr made up his mind,” John said as soon as they were gone. “If he was voting for the budget then he’d be hanging out with us.”

“Do you guys even invite him anywhere these days?” Peggy asked, only to be met with silence.

“Don’t come at us with logic like that,” Angelica replied. “C’mon, let’s go grab our seats.”

**********

After the movie, your group decided to get some food. By the time you got home, it was past midnight and you were exhausted. You were tempted to just pass out and read the proposal in the morning, but you knew that Alexander’s vow of silence ended in the morning. Despite your better judgement, you decided to print out Alexander’s budget proposal and start reading it.

Whenever you read proposals that had to be voted on, you went all out. You read it multiple times, highlighted, took notes, asked questions when you needed clarification, everything that you should do for actual assignments but never did. If you were being honest, so much of your energy went into ASB to the point that you had very little energy to deal with anything outside of it. You looked over to your bedroom door, wondering if you should grab the energy drink you knew was sitting in your fridge. Before you could convince yourself to, you opened your highlighter and started reading Alexander’s budget.

You read it carefully, willing your tired mind to understand his long-winded way of saying things. You made notes in the margins, trying to explain what Alexander meant in your own words for when you reread the proposal. “Why did he write so much? Budgets should just be the numbers, he doesn’t need to explain his reasoning for everything,” you muttered, letting your head fall on your desk with a solid thud. You could feel the exhaustion overtake your body, so you closed your eyes, telling yourself you would take a quick five minute break before going back to reading the proposal.

When you actually woke up, sunlight was starting to stream through your window. You immediately cursed, checking your open highlighter beside you to see if it had dried out overnight. When you saw it hadn’t, you decided to check your notes. The second you turned to the last page you’d worked on, you saw the sloppy, nonsensical handwriting that you knew you had when you were half-asleep. You groaned, knowing that you needed to go through and redo your notes where they stopped making sense. “Okay, let’s do this right,” you said, getting up to get some snacks and water to sustain yourself while you worked.

Even though your mind wasn’t foggy with exhaustion now, Alexander’s verbose way of writing was still one that made you a little annoyed. Sure it sounded nice in the right circumstances, but when you were just trying to read a budget proposal it could get irritating. You had half a mind to just text him and tell him off for having paragraphs of writing for each aspect of the budget instead of the overview for the sections as a whole. As you flipped to the events section of the budget, you found that the budget allotted was a little bit more than in previous years and actually allowed for more wriggle room than the other sections. He was really fighting to get your vote here, and you were slightly surprised about that. Normally Alexander just let his work speak for itself.

By the time you were done going through Alexander’s proposal, it was already beginning to get dark again. You drafted a few questions you still needed to ask about certain aspects before getting ready to text them to Alex, making sure that you understood everything you could about the budget. As you were comparing the questions with your notes to make sure you didn’t miss anything, there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” you called out, not looking up from your work.

“(Y/n), my love, I bring food and my company,” your boyfriend announced himself as he entered your room. “Have you been working on the proposal all day?”

“Hey, Laf. Yeah, I’ve got a few questions I need to ask Alex about some things but I think I’m almost done here,” you told him, spinning in your chair to face him. He was already sprawled out on your bed, a bag of takeout next to him as he looked at you.

“And, what do you think of Alexander’s proposal?” Lafayette asked, sitting up properly.

“It’s all sound, it makes sense, but I still need a little to think about it. That’s kinda why I gotta ask Alex some questions about it,” you replied.

“You can ask Alex whenever, you have his phone number for a reason. Come on and eat with me before the food gets cold.” Laf told you, already taking the containers out of the bag. You knew that you couldn’t argue against his logic, and your current sustenance of pure junk food and water wasn’t enough for you to actually function properly.

“I’ll take thirty minutes and that’s it; I really gotta finish this and make my decision before I have both Jefferson and Alex jumping down my throat about it,” you said, only half-serious as you took the container Laf handed you. You knew you needed to make your decision this weekend, but what was the harm in waiting one more day? You still had Sunday, and it wasn’t like you’d be doing anything else that was important. You could take a break and enjoy dinner with your boyfriend, maybe even watch a movie or something else to relax for a bit. Lafayette seemed to sense your decision to relax, smiling brightly as you sat on the bed beside him.

**********

After you’d eaten, Laf suggested putting on a movie just so he’d have an excuse to hang out with you for a little while longer until he needed to go home. You only made it halfway through the movie before you began fighting to keep your eyes open. You’d been reading Alex’s proposal for hours, working on making sure you’d make the best decision you could, and you didn’t realize just how exhausted you were.

The next thing you knew, Lafayette was gently shaking you awake as the credits rolled on your laptop screen. You weren’t ready to wake up just yet, and made it known as you closed your eyes again and snuggled closer to Laf’s side. “Mon amour, as adorable as you are, I need to go soon,” Lafayette laughed, even though he put his arm around you and just held you there for a few seconds.

“Babe, why does Alex need to write so much? If we had anyone else as Treasurer it wouldn’t take nearly as long for me to do this,” you mumbled, finally opening your eyes and looking up at your boyfriend. You were still exhausted even after your impromptu nap, so you knew you would have to pick up your work again in the morning. On the other hand, you were pretty confident that even if you texted Alex your questions at three in the morning, he would respond, so you were considering just taking another nap.

“You know how Alexander is, he needs to use as many words as possible,” Lafayette replied, holding back another laugh. You couldn’t help the warmth that spread through you at the sight of Lafayette’s small smile. You found him so utterly adorable, and you couldn’t really believe that he cared for you just as much as you cared for him. When he caught you staring, he pressed a quick kiss to your lips. As much as you’d love to properly kiss him, you knew one of your parents would probably be coming in soon to ask when Laf would be going home.

“Do you have to go?” You asked, pressing another kiss to his lips.

“You know your parents would kick me out if I didn’t,” Laf joked. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that graced your features. You looked at the time on your laptop, seeing that it was already approaching midnight. “It’s getting pretty late.”

“Yeah, are you gonna head out?” You asked, already untangling yourself from Laf’s embrace.

“I probably should,” Laf told you, getting off of your bed in search of his shoes. Once he found them, you walked him out to his car, Laf and your parents exchanging pleasantries as you passed by them. When you got to his car, Laf immediately took you into his arms, holding you as he leaned against the car. “Tonight was nice, even if I had to convince you to take a break.”

“It was. I didn’t even realize I needed it,” you admitted as you savored the feeling of being in Lafayette’s arms. “I still need to-”

“Get some rest,” Lafayette interrupted you. “I say this in the nicest way possible, but you looked like death. Sleep and send Alex your questions in the morning. You have until Friday to make your decision.”

“I know, I just want to get it over with already,” you said with a sigh. “You’ve already made your decision.”

“I have, but I also know you like making your own decisions,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I should probably head home.”

“Yeah, I guess you should,” you told him, neither of you quite ready for the night to end. He released you from his embrace, kissing you quickly before unlocking his car.

“Je t’aime, chéri,” he said, opening his door.

“I love you too.” You smiled as you watched him get in his car and pull out of your driveway, waving at you one last time before making his way home. Turning back to walk into your house, you couldn’t help but think that maybe Laf was right about you getting some rest. After all, you did still have until Friday.

**********

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