when i was like 16/17 just starting hrt still the ultimate high school drop out (never even went) my closest friends were my older brother who instantly decided his role as my older brother was to get me as drunk and or high as possible and sometimes by high he meant getting me to go on the roof with him + HIS best friend of nine years at the time who worked at an ice cream factory and would bring us a stacked free box and was the stoniest stoner you could ever encounter (the one with the awooga van horn) + also occasionally when he'd visit my other older brother who right now is living in the bush to "avoid covid". anyway i think this is exactly the kind of figures i needed at the time and i would be probably insane and annoying if i hadn't had his particular upbringing i think u need 3 25 year old men to learn how to skate in parking lots in the middle of the night w/ and find lost goats in the middle of the woods with. and watch them light each other on fire.

This post got me thinking about Pete and religion.

Fall Out Boy lyrics are full of Christian religious imagery. You kind of get the impression that Pete was raised in a household where he was just casually surrounded by all of this STUFF, that he absorbed and turned over in his lyrics. I mean, “Knock once for the Father, twice for the Son, three times for the Holy Ghost”... (West Coast Smoker).

He’s preoccupied by Heaven as an exclusive party. The idea shows up again and again. The Black Cards (I *love* the Black Cards stuff, I need to devote a whole thing to Black Cards at some point) have an entire song called “A Club Called Heaven.” On “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Fame,” “Heaven’s got a gate full of metal detectors.” On “Thriller,” he shows up with his plus one to the afterlife.

But Pete’s not entirely sure he’s getting into that party. In fact, usually Pete puts himself in Hell: He might be dancing in a club called Heaven, but he knows the doorman in Hell personally. The road to his house is paved with good intentions in Hum Hallelujah (which is, of course, traditionally what the road to Hell is paved with); “we’re just Hell’s neighbors” in America’s Suitehearts (if we’re not in Hell, we’re right next door, and that could be Heaven but I don’t think so). To get on St. Peter’s list, you need to lower your standards, says Rat-a-Tat. This is what Pete Wentz lyrics do, a simple sentence like that is LOADED with meaning. Because after all, his name is Peter, and it could be Peter Wentz’s list he’s referring to there, and it could also be the list to get into Heaven, and it could be that getting on Peter Wentz’s list doesn’t actually take that much (lower your standards, I’m never getting any better than this) and it could be that it’s St. Peter at the gates of Heaven who needs to lower *his* standards (again: I’m never getting any better than this).

(My absolute favorite Heaven/Hell lyric, though, is when Pete throws in Purgatory, that place in Catholicism where you go to do penance for your sins before you’re let into Heaven: On w.a.m.s. Pete writes, “My head’s in Heaven, my soles are in Hell, let’s meet in the Purgatory of my hips.” The glorious beauty of the sex innuendo being the *purgatory*: what you have to get yourself through to get to actual Heaven. ugh, Pete Wentz kills me sometimes with the way he uses words.)

He left his conscience pressed between the pages of the Bible in the drawer, but what did it ever do for him? So asks XO, and the gorgeously ambiguous phrasing of those lines KILLS ME. What’s the antecedent to the “it”? His conscience, sure, that’s what he’s thrown carelessly in the drawer. WITH THE BIBLE. Which could also be the “it”: What did that whole faith thing ever get me anyway?

But he wants it *so badly.* My second favorite lyric from Hum Hallelujah (a song that is nothing but excellent lyrics is “I love you in the same way there’s a chapel in a hospital.” There is SO MUCH packed into that line. SO, SO MUCH. And one of the things in there is the ambiguous irresistibility of faith: Sure, maybe the chapel is a last-ditch effort when nothing else works, or maybe that chapel is the ONLY thing that works and the only thing that matters in the whole place. I love you like that, like I don’t know if you’re all I’ve got left or you’re the only thing that matters, and I don’t know which it is but wow, either way, it would be great if you gave me a sign. Ugh that liiiiiine. “Have you ever wanted to disappear and join a monastery?” asks 20 Dollar Nose Bleed.

“I will never believe in anything again,” says (Coffee’s for Closers), but who really believes that? The temptation of belief creeps up in between the proclamation (”kick drum beating in my chest again,” “preach electric to a microphone stand”), undercutting it in the same way that its over-repetition in the song starts to ring hollow (Pete doth protest too much). The comfort that religious people get from their faith in God, Pete wants that. But he can’t get there. He’s always hedging his bets (“in case God doesn’t show” --Thnks fr th Mmrs). He’s always doubtful of God’s good intentions if He is there (”when the world ends, will God go down with it?” --What a Catch, Donnie).

So he tries to find substitutes for this faith he doesn’t have. “My words are my faith,” says Hum Hallelujah, but then, immediately afterward, “To hell with our good name,” so that’s how much actual trust he thinks you should place in that. “We’re a bull and your ears are a china shop.” Look at what a mess my words can make in there if you let them in; that’s what faith does to you, buddy. His gospel is the gospel of giving up (Arms Race). “Follow the disorganized religion of my head,” says West Coast Smoker. “I can work a miracle,” boasts Uma Thurman. “I’m the holy water you have been without,” says Fourth of July.

But he’s not really what he wants to believe in. “We’re saints just swimming in our sins,” Twin Skeleton’s reminds everyone. “If we pray to the Lord,” goes the outro on w.a.m.s., “does he sing on a stage?” Maybe rock and roll is what he should be believing in? “I’m the last damn kid still kicking who still believes,” claims Save Rock and Roll. “I will defend the faith, going down swinging.”

All of which brings us to MANIA. Religion, faith, belief is ALL OVER MANIA. In fact, the entire album is constructed as a journey toward finding the thing you believe in, the thing you have faith in, and finally settling in to cling tight to it. The first song on the album, Stay Frosty, Royal Milk Tea, is struggling with loss of things to believe in: “All my childhood heroes have fallen off or died.” (Champion later has the same theme: “I’m young enough to still believe, but young enough not to know what to believe in.” The most explicit Pete has ever been about his journey toward faith.) But then, in the second song, Last of the Real Ones, the lyrics have found someone to revolve around, someone to be with forever: “the ultra-kind of love,” that ultimate faith. But it’s not quite there yet. There’s doubt in there. “Tell me I’m the only one even if it’s not true.” “There’s been a million before me.” The bridge is expert Fall-Out-Boy song ambiguity. “I’m done with having dreams, the thing that I believe / you drain the fear from me.” Is that “I believe that you drain the fear from me”? Or is that “I’m done with the thing that I believe”? The song’s phrasing lets it be both at once, both a proclamation of faith and a proclamation of doubt, all at the same time.

But things get better. We eventually get to “Church.” An entire song where the religious imagery is pitched toward love (or blowjobs, like, same thing, maybe, for Pete Wentz). “If YOU were church, I’d get on my knees, confess my love, I’d know where to be, my sanctuary, you’re holy to me,” is the refrain of the whole song. It can’t get any clearer than that. Pete Wentz has found what he wants to believe in, and it’s the YOU (whoever that might be ahem just saying that in “Sunshine Riptide,” the she says “I love you ‘til I don’t,” while the You is the “truest feeling yet”). The other enduring theme in MANIA is fakeness and pretend: fake tears, fake friends, people you’re pretending with and around. That theme shows up in Church, too: “I’ve got a few more fake friends and it’s getting hard to know what’s real.” But in Church the proclamation of faith is in the chorus, which means that no matter how anxious Pete gets himself in the lyrics, he resolves back to the central belief: I’ve got you, I know where I should be. YOU’RE what’s real, right here, forget everyone else. 

AND THEN we get Heaven’s Gate. Which revisits Pete’s favorite idea that Heaven is a party he’s going to have to try to crash. But here the song is all about how he’s no longer aimlessly looking for something to believe in; he’s found it: “I’m a missile that’s guided to you.” Maybe he’s gotten it wrong, that he’s chosen the You as his thing to believe in, that the only thing he wants is Your love, but if he’s gotten it wrong, he’s got faith the You is going to get it right and give him the boost he needs into Heaven. “Honey, please come through” and take me along with Your awesomeness, because I’ve decided it’s You I’m going to follow, Your dreams I’m going to make come true, and I’m not going to try to detox from You anymore, I’m just going to go all-in on this whole thing, and in the end, if I don’t make it on the list, will You slip me a wristband?

The album closes out with Young and Menace, with “I’ve lived so much life I think that God is gonna have to kill me twice,” which is such a beautiful bookend to “I read about the afterlife but I never really lived” in Saturday, like, ugh, that always kills me, look how far Pete Wentz has come, and then finally into Bishop’s Knife Trick: “I’m yours, ‘til the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll away.”

Let’s go back to the places that we never should have left.

Idk, maybe you could read this as: Pete Wentz finally found something to believe in, and it ended up being the person who hasn’t left his side in 20 years, the person he’s never had to pretend with, the person who’s been there through all the fake friends, the person who’s golden and amazing and DEFINITELY going to get it right when Pete doesn’t. I mean, maybe you could read it this way.

Cave me in (Poe x GN reader one shot)

Author’s note: this is a slightly less developed one-shot than I’d usually post, but I’m aiming to throw a few things at you this week while everyone is in quarantine and waiting on the series stuff. Sound ok, readers?

Summary: stranded in a cave with Poe and awaiting rescue, you finally confront that rumour which has been flying around base. Spoiler alert, things get a little steamy. 

Warnings: this is trope central. Warnings for nudity, BLOW JOB, language.

(GIF by @hupperts​)

The mission went south. Long story short, you made it out of the danger zone, but Poe and you had managed to get yourselves stranded. Then, it rained. Then it rained some more. You walked for miles over the barren landscape, clothes sodden, and eventually managed to find a cave to shelter in. 

“Poe, can you get started on setting a fire, somewhere at the mouth?”

“I’ll start a fire in your mouth.” he says, as if it’s an innuendo.

You shake your head in confusion. He’s inexplicable, that man. “Poe what does that even mean? How do you ever pull?”

“Must be the schlong.” you can just about make him out, winking at you in the waning light. You sincerely hope he catches you rolling your eyes in return.

Meanwhile, as he obediently stokes the fire, you set about fiddling with the comms equipment, hoping that it will be dry enough here to maintain a signal. Even though your hands feel like ice blocks, your fingers less than dexterous, you finally manage to connect everything up and patch a message through to the Resistance. You are relieved to hear that a fleet is nearby and someone should be able to peel off to pick you up.

“Th- they’ll be a c- couple of h-hours.” you say through chattering teeth.

“That’s good news!” Poe says, getting a pretty impressive fire roaring.

“Y-yeah.” you try to agree, but your shivers have become much more violent since you stopped moving, and you feel like your body is seizing up. You’re so cold.

Poe comes over to you, feels your hands and face. “Fuck, you’re like ice. You need to get out of these wet clothes.”

“N-no way!” you argue.

“I won’t look, I promise. Just to your underwear. I’ll strip too.”  You fold your arms stubbornly. “It’s a medical necessity, Y/N. Do I have to order you to do this?”

“S-since when does ordering me to d-do anything ever h-help?”

“Rarely. Y/N, come on.” he says firmly and you reluctantly begin to peel off your layers.

“Stop b-begging me to undress and s-strip then f-flyboy.”

You both strip off, silently, down to your underwear, spreading the garments out on rocks close to the fire to dry off.

You avert your eyes from him, melodramatically, looking up at the ceiling and out into the darkness and anywhere else.

“Feel free to look at me if you like,” Poe encourages, such an incessant flirt. “You might even enjoy it. Might warm you up some.”

You roll your eyes, half-heartedly this time, and gravitate towards the flames, the heat gradually thawing your body as you stretch out in front of it like a scarecrow. And maybe you do sneak a sly, less than subtle look at him in those tight boxers, since he gave you permission.Your eyes skimming over that juicy ass. Oof, you didn’t know he had tattoos. And, although you’d tried to imagine it plenty, you didn’t know he would look so fine under his clothes.

He’s really not looking at you though. Not even a little. Not even as you sit down by the fire together. It’s like he doesn’t even have to try; as if you’re not tempting to him at all.

Maybe he’s really not that into you. Maybe he is just an indiscriminate flirt, like you’ve been telling yourself. His attentions nothing personal, nothing of substance.

Soon though, you forget you’re sat in your underwear at all; in your relief to be warm, safe, you fall into the easy camaraderie you have with him, exchanging friendly chatter about nothing in particular. Shortly, you are both in hysterics as you swap some of the best rumours currently doing the rounds back at base.

You throw your head back in laughter at the latest revelation, tears forming at the corners of your creased eyes. “You spread that one about yourself?!” you howl, clutching your belly as you convulse in amusement. You can barely get your words out in between sniggers. He chuckles along with you. “Why would you want people to think you had an alien dick?”

“Sometimes I just need an added challenge, or it’s far too easy for me to pull.”

That sets you off again, as if the idea of him pulling with any frequency is preposterous. Sure, he’s handsome, but he’s such a goof too. He’s not half as smooth as he thinks he is.

“Poe, BB-8 talks. Finn talks. I know you haven’t had anyone back to your room in months.”

He sucks air through his teeth. “Maybe I should rethink that alien dick thing.” He smiles broadly at you, maybe a little keen to change the subject, and bats you on the thigh with the back of his open hand. “Come on, you go. Heard any good ones lately?”

You bridge your fingers together and scrunch up your face, deep in thought. “Well, I did hear something.”

“Go on.”

“I heard a rumour that you like me.”

He physically shrinks back from you, leaning back on his hands, dipping his head towards his bare shoulder. You can’t be sure, in the firelight, but you swear he blushes. Then he smiles at you, his eyes dipping briefly over your torso. He shifts in his seat again and rubs his hand over the stubble at his jaw.

Neither of you seem to find this particular rumour quite so funny.

You look him steadily in the eyes, testing, looking for answers. “But that can’t be true, because you’re doing a really good job of not looking at me.”If he wanted you, if he wanted you at all, wouldn’t this be his moment. Half-naked and jubilant in the soft glow of this cave? You had to know.

“I promised you I wouldn’t look.” he says in a small voice, wringing his hands together. “Hey, our clothes are probably dry now.” he annonces, standing and moving away from you, busying himself. 

“Poe?” you call, realisation beginning to wash over you.

“Come on, Y/N. Don’t do this to me.” he pleads. “Just drop it.” All his bluster gone.

Hold up, is that why? Is that why he hadn’t had anyone else back to his room? Is that why he asked Leia to team up with you on missions? He likes you?

Oh. Oh.

“Poe.” you say with clarity, “What if I want you to look at me?”

“What?” he dismisses, still flustered, embarrased.

“What if I want you to look at me.” you repeat, the desire in your voice potent.

He gulps, seeing that you’re serious, seeing the intention, the truth in your body. 

“If I want to? Are you kidding me?” he asks as if you’re ridiculous. He gulps heavily, his eyes skimming over your body in the soft firelight, snagging on your chest, your stomach, your hips, your thighs.

He juts his chin out at you, regaining some of his bravado. “I’m looking at you. And you’re gorgeous. So d’you wanna kiss me?” 

“Yes, you goofball.”

Maker, is this happening?

You close the distance between you in no time at all, and his hands wind in your hair, holding your face firmly in his warm, rough hands as he presses his soft lips against you. Finally. You smile as he hums into the kiss, your body beginning to languish feebly against him as he slips you the tongue. His mouth moves against you slowly but ravenously, as if he’s been starving for you, his tongue exploring the cave of your mouth, delicate and warming, just like the firelight which licks and dances across the cave you stand in.

Damn, he said he’d start a fire in your mouth and it had been nonsense, but now maybe you believe him: and then some; your whole body burns with lust.

Reluctantly, he breaks from you, both of you trembling, and his eyes rove over you seeking your reaction. His hands, now at your back have to practically hold you up.

“P- ohhhh, dayyymmmmm er ohhhhn.” you breathe, floored by that kiss. Boy, does his name lend itself well to exclamations of pleasure.

How had you waited this long to kiss him? You grab him by the neck and pull his hot lips to yours again, eager to make up for lost time. You practically growl as he breaks from you again.

“Um, this is getting me...excited and there aren’t many layers between us, is that ok?” His voice is husky, hollowed-out, like he’s parched for you.

“Yeah, that’s very ok.” you press your hands to his shoulders and walk him backwards, until you have him pressed up against the wall of the cave. “Except, I wish there was even less between us. Can we get rid of these silly little boxers?”

You look hungrily at the sizeable bulge causing his boxers to tent.

You drop to your knees willingly, sitting back on your heels, your palms flattened obediently to your thighs. You look up at him from beneath your lashes, your eyes indicating you are about to devour him.

“Holy fuck.” he looks wrecked already, his palms spread flat against the wall as if to steady himself.

“Relax, Dameron. I just want to suck you off, is that gonna be ok?”

Maker, does you talking dirty like that turn him on in new ways.

“Yes, that is very ok.”

You smile deviously and tease him for a moment, planting careful kisses on his thighs, his stomach.

“Oh, baby, you’ve got my dick so hard.” the tremor in his voice is such a turn on.

He brings a shaky hand to the back of your head and drives your face into his crotch, where you can feel his stiff length straining against you. You open your mouth and moan into him, hoping he can feel the warmth he’s missing -for now- from your hot, sweet breath filtering through the fabric. You feel his erection twitch enthusiastically against your face.

You move to free him, stretching his waistband until you are able to wind a hand around his length and unveil him. “Fuck me” he says in response to your touch, already throbbing against your hand. His cock is big and thick and pretty, the smooth head already beading with precum. You palm him and bring the tip of his cock to your lips. Of course you part them for him, flicking your wet tongue around the head.

Maker. You know he never shuts up but you hadn’t expected him to be so vocal. You take a moment to look up at him, at his hot, almost naked body laid out for you, his eyes already fluttering closed, his mouth open with wrangled moans which echo around the cave. It’s so fucking hot.

It makes you even more hungry to taste him, to work your tongue against every countour of him, smooth head, veined shaft, to have you lips wrapped around him as he bucks deep into you. Fuck. He’s completely at your mercy.

“Look at me.” you urge him. And he grunts in need, watches you as he winds his hand in your hair and you dip your head along his shaft tantalisingly slowly, running your tongue along him as you do, feeling every inch of him disappear into your mouth. You adminster a few, slow dips of your head, all the way down, until he is wet. And then you pull back, swirling your tongue around the head of him, teasing him until he is needy and practically bucking his hips into you, needing desperately to piston his cock in and out of you. When you’re satisfied you’ve teased him enough, you take him all again, moaning on him, enjoying him filling you. Enjoying Poe Dameron in your mouth, taking him deeper than you might have thought possible.

His moans are delicious, telling you he is enjoying the sight of his cock disappearing into your mouth too. More wrangled sounds, your hands gripping his strong, trembling thighs tightly. You know he’s close.

“Y/N” he groans. “I’m gonna- can I, in your mouth?”

You hum affirmatively with him still deep in you, squeezing the base of him firmly with your hand. He comes almost instantly, knees close to buckling as he spasms in pleasure and you feel his cock pump his seed out of him and into the back of your throat. You swallow it down eagerly, sucking every drop from him.

He lets out a long, satisfied exhale, and you hold his hips as he twitches with aftershocks.

Finally, you pull off of him, your mouth and his cock still connected by spit trails. Your lips plumped by his cock and glistening with wetness.

You grin widely at him. “Yum,” you praise.

He can’t speak for a while. He’s got nothing. You’ll have to remember that if you ever need to shut him up. Which is at least 5 times a day, usually.

When he stops looking like he’s seeing stars and you’re confident he’s not going to keel over -it seemed touch and go for a hot minute- you stand up and wrap your arms tenderly around his waist, your hands carressing his smooth, tan skin.

“Fuck. I didn’t think you even liked me.” he says when he can speak again, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. “I thought you were immune to my charms.”

“I’m not fussed about you, Dameron, I just wanted to see if you really had an alien dick.

He laughs into your neck, the sound blissfully familiar but the sensation -this closeness- new.

“I hope you weren’t disappointed.”

He kisses along your collarbone.

“Nah, you have quite the schlong. But... I do want to explore another rumour I heard.”

“What’s that?”

“That you can go all night.”

As if by magic the communicator flutters to life and they let you know they’re five minutes out.

“Promise me you’ll hold that thought?” he pleads, as you reluctantly dress, planting plenty of kisses on each other’s lips in between layers.

“Do you think they’ll know what we just did?”

“Ooh, we might start a rumour.” you laugh, joyously. 

“That Y/N gives the best head in the galaxy? I sorta wanna keep that secret all to myself.”

In your bubble, you hadn’t noticed Finn and Rey round the corner to the mouth of the cave - not until it was too late.

“Ew, too much information Dameron!” Finn exclaims, recoiling.

Fuck.

Poe looks horrified for a moment and then just shrugs.

“You know what, I’m not even sorry.”

He’s just happy you finally caved.

I have this habit of being very detailed in writing- hopefully not too much that it bores anyone to death. Personally, I love detailing OC's and as many aspects of them as I can before exposing these poor things to pain- almost like a slow-burn for torture, I suppose?

But then it occurs to me as well that maybe I'm just writing a normal story, with villians and heroes and anti-heroes but with more emphasis on the pains they go through.

Oh well, here is my newest creation-

CW: None quite yet. Some strong language, I suppose

MYSTICS

CHAPTER ONE: A NEW JOB

Lyrem Nomadus busied himself, flipping through resumes that bored him half to death and then a little more. Usually, he wouldn’t dare to look for anyone to share his space with. The business of curating, refurbishing and selling occultic items was dreadfully interesting to the general public and the last thing he was looking for was someone new to devalue it with their own useless knowledge and presumed ‘psychic’ abilities. The last two days were full of just that. He pinched the bridge of his wide nose as a mild headache came on- the last interview was a particularly painful thought.

A young man, with a heavily freckled, pale face, and round framed glasses poured over his collection of rocks near the front entrance, started spouting nonsense that Lyrem had little patience for.

“Ooh, malachite. I heard that stuff’s toxic, y’know,” he spoke with little regard for Lyrem standing near the cash register- an old charcoal grey thing with large buttons and made a noise like a classic ‘ka-ching’ just before the receipts printed out and the drawer popped open.

“Hm,” Lyrem hummed unamused, hoping it would prompt some style of professionalism from his prospective interviewee. It did not.

The young man continued to look around the store, finding one hematite pendulum specifically fascinating. Then he found his attention drawn to a display of elegantly designed tarot cards. The young man picked one of them up, studying the hierophant with mild interest.

“Please do not touch the merchandise.” Lyrem cut in.

The young man placed the card back down on the glass shelf, slightly askew to the rest on display. He cleared his throat and approached the register, finally.

“Did you bring a copy of your resume?” Lyrem asked him, knowing what the answer likely was, as there was nothing in his hands. He wore a long black trench coat over ratted, torn jeans and a plain tee shirt. There was one chain dangling from a pocket somewhere.

“Yessir,” he answered.

Oh, perhaps this boy had a hope after all.

After reaching into his back pants pocket with effort, the resume was presented, folded into six sections as a single piece of paper. A folded and clearly used napkin fell out onto the floor. Lyrem breathed deeply, took the folded resume, and smiled.

“Thank you for applying, but I am afraid you are not quite the right fit for this position,” Lyrem didn’t bother opening the paper, and instead tossed it over his own shoulder. It landed directly into the bin behind him.

“I-I’m sorry? You haven’t interviewed me yet”- his eyes widened with the confusion of the sudden rejection.

“Hm. I have interviewed you plenty, and I tell you now, I’d have a mangey dog run my store before you.” He didn’t mean for his tone to be so casual. Lyrem blinked.

The poor boy took a moment to process the insult before glaring across at the owner of Mystics ruthlessly. Suddenly, his fist pounded the desk, sending a short tremor through the wood.

“Anybody with half a brain could do this job! For fuck sake’s, man!”

Lyrem looked at him with a simple eyebrow raised and cocked his head toward the door. He was tired these days. The less he chose to care about children’s tantrums, the better. The boy left in a huff, and clearly, he tried slamming the jingling door behind him as he stepped out onto the street, but the spring against the top disallowed such havoc, and bounced slowly back. It closed finally with a light click, and the young man was gone.

Releasing the pinch from his nose, Lyrem sighed. He didn’t know which one was worse, that boy who left a trail of disrespect in his wake, or the woman from the previous day who was convinced that she could speak with his mother in the afterlife. The sullen woman wore gems aplenty on her fingers and hanging from ropes and chains around her neck. The wire wrapped amethysts in particular, caused her to look like an easter egg more than a living person. She didn’t take it too kindly when he explained that the stones around her finger were not a genuine turquoise either. By the end of it all, she was rather happy to be finished.

He shuddered, remembering the strong scent of patchouli she left that seemed to linger within his store, even now.. He didn’t have an aversion to patchouli, or to amethyst or turquoise, or even easter eggs… at least he hadn’t one before two days ago.

The rest of the applicants were all the same. Wanted a job, wanted something easy, and for experience- and all the time, Lyrem would ask himself: “experience for what, exactly?” Instead of asking the question aloud, he’d thank the person, and politely send them on their way out, with a promise to call them when he had made a decision.

He wasn’t planning to call anyone.

It was a Tuesday afternoon. The streets would be bustling past four, and if he wanted to avoid it and give himself a break from the eye strain, he would need to go for his coffee now, or not have one until after six. The horror.

He flipped over the sign on the door. It was one of those apologetic ones- as though it would stop a person from throwing a brick through a window for being closed on a weekday. Lyrem locked the door and turned to his right. There was a small local place not far from the corner of the intersection that he had grown accustomed to. If they had the raspberry scones today, he decided he may take one of those as a treat. Lost in thought, he crossed in front of a small white car making its left turn. The car stopped, though no horn was sounded as the engine suddenly died inexplicably next to him.

Lyrem walked around the car and poked his head through the passenger-side window which was open for the cool breeze. The driver looked back at him, his hands gripping the wheel too tightly.

“Pedestrians have the right of way, you know,” he mentioned calmly. Then, he tapped the top of the car twice. It restarted. “Drive a little safer, now.”

The driver suddenly remembered that the car was still in gear, and he moved along, crossing the intersection and left Lyrem behind like everything he had just done was part of some fever dream. He chuckled lightly and turned back down the block.

It was a sun-filled day, without a cloud in the sky, and it was a warm one too. Despite the fact that it was still early April, and the city had only just started waking from its hibernation from the cold, the streets were filling quickly with people.

His coffee took a while, which he forgave only because the end result was quite often a perfection, but he was nearly pouting at the counter as the spot for raspberry scones were replaced with one with blueberries instead. Losing his appetite, his eyes drifted around the rustic establishment. The sounds of a classical guitar filled the room with the unmistakable talents of the virtuoso, Andrés Segovia. It was a nice change from the sounds of folk rock and boy bands. The coffee shop was only getting better and better with age, it seemed.

Against the wall, a cork board was decorated in haphazardly placed notes. Some notes were simply inspirational or funny, some were searching for students for taekwondo or guitar, advertisements for plays and musicals at the local theatre were spread along the outer edges begging to be noticed, and there were a few job postings as well from other nearby establishments, restaurants, including one from a pet store.

He shouldn’t have tried putting an ad on Kijiji at all- not when the perfect people were right here all along. Like Icarus, Lyrem flew too close to the sun, and was burned by the troubling rays of stupidity that came through his door from delving into the ruddy depths of online job hunting. Never again would he make such a mistake.

“Lyre!”

Nodding, he retrieved his cup, and turned back toward the door. He nearly collided with another person, standing close up to the cork board and huffed, not spilling a drop.

“Excuse me,” he muttered.

“Apologies.” The person gave him little notice, but moved off to the side with ease to allow him through.

He furrowed his brows. What was it that was causing him to pause just before reaching the door? There was just… something… off.

It took him a moment before hearing it- the faintest humming to Segovia’s España, Spanish Dance No.10 in G coming from the person who apologized to him for being in the way. Each note timed perfectly to the sound from the speakers in the corner. He turned his head, to a particularly high note, the humming stopped to be replaced with fingers tapping in unison to the notes against their thigh.

“Guitar?” He asked, suddenly beside them. He studied the board also.

“No,” they replied. “Just looking for a job.”

He nodded, grimacing. Raising his hopes one final time, he ventured.

“I have potential work for you. I am hiring at my store’s location down the street. If you are interested.”

“That seems coincidental.” They replied unemphatically sifting through the other job postings there, knowing they were not currently dressed for success. “What store?”

“Mystics. It’s along twenty-third and”-

“-seventeenth, yes, I know the place.”

“Then you’re hired.”

They stopped, and brought their hands down from the board, and turned to stare their deep brown eyes into his of deep hazel- to finally spare a glance to the person wanting their attention.

“I don’t have time for practical jokes- or human trafficking, for that matter,” they said with insistence.

“I’m not joking, and I am definitely not in the business of human trafficking”- Lyrem stuttered incredulously. “I thought you said you knew the place.”

“I do.” They replied. “I’ve just never been in. It’s just one of those ridiculous shops for people to waste their money on colourful rocks. There’s literally a river just under the bridge half a mile from here- infinite supply for none of the coin.”

Taking them by surprise, he laughed.

“You will be the worst salesperson.” He said. More seriously, he added, “look, I really am in need of a person to take care of a few evening shifts and the weekends, I pay well above the average rate for any local retail store, and I’d be able to supply you with health benefits.”

This sudden bargain seemed to be interesting enough for the person to distance themselves from the cork board.

“I’m still finishing high school- under eighteen- is that a problem?” They asked. “It’s been a problem everywhere else”-

“Not a problem.”

They nodded.

“When do I start?”

Goblin Brain Study Session Fic 1 [Day 28]

Because I don’t want to just have walls of text for my Goblin Brain Study Session posts, I’m separating them by days. If you want to read the previous chapters, click the links below. I have chapter 10 done, but not edited and what I have done of chapter 11 under the cut.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today.

I have no idea if I’m going to get interrupted as there has been a surprise small child in my home the last couple of days, but I have a meeting tomorrow and really need to do stuff so I’m trying to sneak a bit of time in while small child is distracted.

Janus could feel his heartbeat speed up at his looked at his phone, but he didn’t dare let that show. He calmly clicked the talk button on his phone. “Hello, mother. How can I help you?” he asked.

“I’d like an update on the situation with the Gates boy,” she said.

“I’m currently on his trail,” Janus informed her. “He had an unfortunate head start because of Kinsley, but I have managed to figure out he went to the nearby grocery store and saw him on security footage. I should be making more progress soon.”

“I see,” she replied. “The boy used his phone.”

“Well that’s good for our aims,” Janus replied. “I assume you were able to track the call.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “He was attempting to call his uncle. He has managed to get impressively far. I will send you the details of his location.” She paused. “Wait, it seems he’s currently attempting another call to an unknown number. Strange, there doesn’t seem to be a record of it in any database. You wouldn’t possibly know the number 309-555-0721.” Fuck. That was his other phone number… the phone number of the phone he broke earlier.

“No, I don’t,” Janus lied. God dammit. Why did he break that phone?

She hummed, seeming to accept that. “I see you are still at the grocery store. I’m sending people to meet up with you at that location.”

Oh fuck.

“Is that really necessary?” Janus asked sounding bored. “Surely I can handle it myself.”

“It will be more efficient to have multiple people working together especially with a drive that far,” she said. He could tell by her tone that there was no room for argument.

“Of course,” Janus replied.

“Good. I have already sent them your location.” She hung up without another word.

Janus looked down at his phone. “Well,” he said. “I’m dead.”

“That bad, huh?” Remus asked.

“She’s sending people to ‘help’ me.”

“Shit.”

“You said the security cameras upload straight to the cloud, right?” Janus asked.

“Yep,” Remus confirmed.

“Well. No way out of it then.” His phone beeped with details about Virgil’s location. Calmly, Janus walked around the car and opened the door to get the atlas Remy had gotten him when he’d turned 16. He’d scoffed at it because of GPS, but he’d kept it even when he’d gotten rid of the car mother had given him for the same occasion. He opened the map of the state and circled the location Virgil was at on the map.

Just as he finished that, he was also forwarded the names and locations of the two goons coming for him. “Convenient,” he said glancing at their current positions. Then he raised his arm as high as he could and threw the phone onto the ground. “Remus,” Janus said. “Remember all the times you’ve talked about wanting to blow this car to hell?”

“Yes!!” he said excitedly. “To be fair it’s any car, but yes!!!”

“Wait!” Roman said. “Why are we blowing up the car?”

“Distraction,” Janus replied. “The path they’re on should take them over Washington Bridge, so if we blow it up on that, it should delay them by quite a bit. Plus, mom can track it and they’ll probably loop back trying to find me.”

“Isn’t there, like, a better idea maybe?” Roman asked.

Remus reached over and put his hand over Roman’s mouth. “Shh, Roman, let me have this.” Roman shoved him away.

“We’ll go get one of your cars, drive mine to the bridge, and Remus can do his,” he waved his hand at him, “thing.”

“…I still don’t think.”

“Trust us, Ro-Ro.” Remus threw an arm around his shoulder.

“See, that makes me think this is even worse of an idea.”

“Look,” Janus bit out. “I know my mother and as soon as she figures out I’m fucking her over, they’ll be literally gunning for us. Blowing up the car will delay them as well as destroy the tracker and any information they can get from the car.”

“Okay,” Roman agreed, though he still didn’t seem comfortable with it. Apparently, he gotten all of the responsibility in the womb.

Speaking of… Remus had already taken the laptop and packed it back up before throwing it none to gently into the trunk. Roman winced, but Janus shrugged. It was going to get destroyed anyway. Janus couldn’t resist smiling at the excitement in Remus’s eyes as he slammed the trunk closed and made his way to the passenger seat.

“We’re taking my car though,” Roman insisted. “I’m not getting in his death trap.”

Having seen the car for himself, Janus nodded. “Agreed.”

They drove back to get Roman’s car and then Remus requested grabbing something from his own car.

“Why do you even have that in your car?!” Roman shouted from his car’s window as Remus unpacked explosives from his trunk.

“In case of emergencies!”

“What type of emergen-”

“This type!”

Janus just shook his head, and Remus packed the explosives into the trunk of Janus’s car and then himself into the passenger seat. Then they drove off towards the bridge only about 10 minutes away. Remus wiggled in excitement in his seat.

“Calm down,” Janus attempted to snap, but it just came out fond. Disgusting.

Remus just gave him a dopey smile.

Janus turned back to the road. “I hope you know this means your cover is blown as well.”

“Yeah, ah well, it was only a matter of time anyway,” he said, shrugging. “I will have to move though. That’s going to suck.”

Janus hummed noncommittally.

“Ooo, we should go in on an apartment together!”

Janus glanced over at him in surprise. “What?”

“And we can get a cat!” Remus said instead of answering him. “I love cats, but my current apartment won’t let me have one. That’ll be on the list of things to look for: an apartment that allows pets.”

“Why would we even be moving in with each other?” Janus asked.

“Well, you’re not going to be living with mommy dearest after today and we’re best friends.”

“We’re partners,” Janus replied blankly.

“And best friends!”

“I… you… we’ll discuss this later. I have too much to think about right now.”

Remus shrugged and startled rambling about how ‘big the bomb is going to be.’ Meanwhile, Janus did his best to firmly shoved the word “best friends” as far down as possible.

The arrived at the bridge quickly and Janus parked it in the middle of it; Roman parked at the other end of the bridge.

“Well, don’t leave anything in the car,” Janus said. Remus nodded, back to bouncing up and down in his seat at the prospect of the explosives.

Janus trusted Remus to know what he was doing with the explosives and simply walked away from his car towards Roman’s. There was a loud explosion when they were about 200 feet away from the car. Janus suppressed a flinch.

“You could have waited until we were completely off the bridge,” Janus commented mildly.

“But we look cooler like this,” Remus argued with a manic grin. “Plus, I saw a car coming towards the bridge on the other side and didn’t want them to get on the bridge before the explosion.”

Roman had his window rolled down when they approached. “Remus is in back.”

Remus put a hand over his heart like he’d been wounded. “I’m your brother. I should get shot-gun.”

“I am not allowing you access to the radio. I’ve been on too many road trips with you.”

“Dad’s the one who insists on playing a mix of geek rock and explicit rap music which he completely doesn’t understanding the lyrics of,” Remus pointed out with a pout.

“And I should have disowned the both of you years ago. Get in the back seat.”

“But…”

Janus ended the sibling dispute by getting in the passenger seat himself.

Remus grumbled as he got in the back seat. Janus opened the atlas and found them on the map. “Get on the interstate heading East,” he instructed Roman.

The question on how on Earth they were going to find Virgil when he was moving rather quickly crossed Janus’s mind, but he smothered it. They’d stop and do some investigation once they were closer to his current location. It would be fine.

Roman glanced over at him as he started to drive and sighed. “You may have control of the radio as passenger,” he offered. “Just, please do not betray me.”

Janus sent him a wry smile and let himself get distracted messing with the radio. He flipped through a few stations before landing on one that seemed to be devoted mostly to Latin pop.

“Yes,” Roman said. “A great decision.”

“No,” Remus whined when he stopped on that station and leaned back. “You’re supposed to find the one that annoys Roman the most. It’s in the spirit of the road trip.”

“That seems ridiculous,” Janus commented.

“It is,” Roman agreed.

“Noooo. Embrace the spirit of the road trip.”

“Well finding a station that Roman likes seems to annoy you the most. So, I guess I am ‘embracing the spirit of the road trip.’”

Remus made a mournful sound and Roman chortled. “You’re my new favorite person,” Roman said.

Janus found himself smiling despite himself.

“Just for that, I get naming rights for our cat,” Remus informed him seriously.

“What cat?” Roman asked.

“Janus and I are going to get an apartment together since his mom’s going to try to murder us both and we’re going to get a cat.”

“Ah,” Roman said as though that made total sense to him. Janus guessed growing up with Remus made it easy to accept such statements. “Don’t let him name it. He’ll name it something stupid.”

“I will not!”

“You tried to name our hamster Sexy Dorito!” Roman exclaimed and then looked at Janus. “Who names a hamster… who names anything Sexy Dorito??” he asked.

“The same person who accidently died his hair neon pink on a covert mission,” Janus answered.

“Hey!” Remus said, leaning forward to insert his face between the driver and passenger seats. “No!”

“Put your seatbelt on, Remus,” Janus ordered.

“Oh, you’ve got to tell me about that one,” Roman said.

“No! Don’t betray me, Janus!”

Janus did, in fact, betray him.

  Chapter 11

Virgil smiled awkwardly at the cashier when he entered the gas station. He went straight to the coffee to get Patton one. He went ahead and got the largest size cup because they were probably going to be a while and started to fill it up at the machine.

He… didn’t quite understand why the man was still going to be driving him when he didn’t have a knife on him, but hopefully it wasn’t a trick. It was probably a trick. He should probably tell the cashier he’d been kidnapped.

But then the cashier would definitely call the cops and knowing his mother Virgil would definitely be screwed.

So, instead, Virgil put the lid on Patton’s coffee and found that there was one plain donut with chocolate frosting still in the case. He grabbed that and then searched around the candy aisle for a bit. He finally settled on a pack of Red Vines and grabbed a blue raspberry slushie. If he was going to get axe murdered by some guy that kept a stuffed bear named Barnaby in his car, he was going to do so with a blue tongue.

He handed over the 20-dollar bill to the cashier and then gathered up the snacks and drinks to take them to the car.

He caught Patton with his phone in his hands while he was pumping gas. “Hey, what are you doing?” Virgil asked.

“Just sending a text to my brother so he doesn’t worry too much,” Patton replied quickly. Virgil gave him a suspicious look. When it became clear that Virgil wasn’t going to willingly take a step closer to the car after that, Patton sighed and held out his phone. “You can see,” he said.

Virgil set the drinks and snacks down on the hood of the car and took the phone. The phone indeed was open to just a string of emojis sent to someone called “Lo-Lo” in Patton’s phone. The string of emojis read (insert emoji string)

“There is… no way he’d understand that,” Virgil said. “I barely understand it and I lived it.” He paused. “I am not a baby.”

Patton snatched the phone back. “I didn’t say you were.”

“You typed ‘knife baby’ in emoji!” Virgil said.

“Baby with a knife actually,” Patton said unrepentant. He grabbed his coffee and donut off the hood of the car and opened the driver’s door to put the drink in the cup holder and the donut on the seat. Then, he went to finish up pumping the gas.

Not So Professional- Chapter 2

Plot: Y/N gets the job as Harry Styles’s personal assistant. Working for him, she deals with the ups and downs of his career ranging from difficult breakups to music celebrations and everything in between. How will her and Harry’s relationship develop?

CHAPTER 1

A/N: YOU. GUYS. It has been very long since I’ve posted, and I feel so bad for leaving everyone with just one chapter up. Life got in the way lol and I honestly lost inspiration to write. Recently, I’ve been wanting to and I had some of this written already. I can’t promise you I’ll update every week or something, but I want to develop this story. Thanks guys :) 

P.S. I apologize for any typos...it’s 1 am as I’m finalizing and posting lmao

                                                    Chapter 2

Nervously typing each digit one by one, I anticipate the dreaded phone call with my mother. Her and I never really saw eye for an eye. We have completely different ways of viewing life, which always results in many arguments and pointless bickering. At the youthful age of 18, I had decided to move out after graduation and figure out life for myself. She of course, was absolutely livid. Ever since then, there’s been a lot of unspoken tension and distance. However, I miss her sometimes. She’s my mom, and although we have many differences I constantly wish we didn’t end things the way they ended those years ago. The only times I see her is for holidays, and every blue moon she’ll come to the city for lunch. Other than that, we don’t speak much at all.

But this news is something I have to tell her, especially since I’m going to be traveling the world assisting the world’s biggest heartthrob. Reluctantly, I take a breath and hold the phone up to my ear. Out of an anxious habit I tap my nails against the counter while rolling my ankle as my elbows rest on the granite. It rings a few times, and I start to pray she doesn’t answer. Until the ringing cuts and I hear a sigh.

“Y/N?” She sounds surprised. Shocked that I’m calling her at such a random time. My heart sinks at her tone and I realize how long it’s been. My mouth is dry and my mind is reeling, words jumbling in my head not knowing what to say back.

“Hi Mom. I-uh..I am calling um..because tomorrow there will be a uh, a big change.” I stumble, taking big gulps as I speak. My voice is trembling just a tad, and I know she can feel how nervous I am through the phone.

“What do you mean?” Her volume lowers, her voice timid. My fingers grasping my phone start to ache and I realize how tightly I’m holding it, knuckles turning white.

“I got offered um, a very, very large promotion… One I never expected and uh I was told today, but I’m leaving tomorrow… to London.” My rambling picks up as I speak, just wanting this conversation to be over. My eyes wander the room as I start biting my lip gently waiting for her response. I can tell she’s speechless, not knowing what to say.

“Oh wow…Y/N that’s, that’s amazing.” She breathlessly responds, a hint of pride in her tone. A small smile creeps onto my face, not believing this. She’s happy for me. Never in a million years did I think she would be proud of something I’ve done. She’s been holding a grudge ever since I left, ignoring every accomplishment I’ve had. But this time, she cares. And she’s proud. A few lone tears prick the corners of my eyes. Rolling my eyes at the ridiculousness of my emotions, I wipe them away quickly.

“Thank you Mom…I’ll be assisting Harry Styles. I’ll be…traveling the world. This is something I have dreamed about.” I start getting more comfortable, telling her how excited I am.

The conversation continues on for only a few minutes, but my heart warms at the way it turned out. We said our goodbyes, she wished me luck and to send her pictures of the places I see. She finally sees that I’m successful and doing just fine on my own, even though I left her at such a young age. And that’s all I could have wanted from her.

                                               ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It’s about 6:00 now. I’m sitting on my bedroom floor with clothes and other miscellaneous objects scattered all around. Having to leave so last minute is incredibly stressful and I find myself not knowing whether to pack one item over another. Groaning in frustration I decide to get my Bluetooth speaker. Maybe playing some music will make this a little bit more enjoyable. As I’m scrolling through my lists of playlists on Spotify, a thought popped into my head. Rather than choosing one of my playlists I go to the search bar and type in “Harry Styles”. 

Curiously scrolling through his 10 songs, I click on the song Only Angel. Immediately a choir blasts through my speaker and it’s almost like a sense of euphoria is washing over me. A little bit of piano comes into play making the beginning even more dreamy. As I’m getting used to the angelic sounds, all of the sudden a shriek of some sort interrupts. My heart feels like it’s about to break from my chest, and I jump from the unanticipated change of sound. What I thought would be a relaxing tune, turns into a rock song. When he starts singing my breath start to hitch in my throat. I’m quick to notice the rasp in his voice, like I’m wanting more and more as he sings so passionately within the first verse.

Open up your eyes, shut your mouth and see That I'm still the only one who's been in love with me I'll guess I'll be getting you stuck in between my teeth And there's nothing I can do about it

The attitude radiating from his lyrics is oddly attractive. I’ll have to admit that this is a lot different than his One Direction stuff, and like it even more. It’s refreshing to see a former boyband member go in a different direction other than pop. It tells me he appreciates really good music that actually uses instruments. I continue to listen to the album as I pack and can’t help but fall in love with his music. Sign Of The Times is a tear jerker. Once the chorus hit me, I felt like I was frozen in time. The production, the raw emotion in his voice, his gorgeous vocals. It all hit me like a bus and the next thing you know, I have tears running down my cheeks.

 But then I listened to From the Dining Table. Acoustics so soft and melancholy, his voice so low and quiet. The vulnerability and loneliness I felt from his lyrics took my heart and dropped it to the pit of my stomach. The hopefulness from the bridge as the melody and harmonies pick up that soon turned back into sadness as if all that hope vanished, left me absolutely breathless. The kind of pain he experienced, I hope he never has to go through again, oddly enough. His music makes me feel instantly connected to him, a power not many artists have. He’s an incredible musician, and I’m disappointed in myself for never realizing it earlier. I think back to the picture I was shown and my heart flutters again. With a voice and looks like that, let’s hope his personality is decent too.

                                                   ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Beep…beep…beep. My blaring iPhone alarm disrupts my sleep and my first instinct is to grab it and chuck it across the room so I can fall back into a slumber. I groggily turn over on my stomach shoving the pillow over my head, groaning hoping it would stop on its own as if it’s alive. Having enough of the disrupting noise making my ears bleed, I bring myself to roll on my side and grab my phone from my bedside table. While pressing the stop button I glance at the time. 7:00 AM. I know that it’s not super early, but on days I normally have off I developed a habit of sleeping in till 12. It’s like my body knows what day it is. My plane leaves at 1. I should leave my apartment by 11:45 to get to JFK and give myself some time before my plane boards. These thoughts are running through my head, as I’m trying to have some sort of plan for myself.

Mapping out my day in my head, I reluctantly get up and walk straight to the kitchen starting up my Keurig. Coffee is an absolute essential in the morning, or at any time for that matter. You don’t want to talk to me when I don’t have caffeine in my system. Luna comes trotting into the kitchen, her little legs moving at a fast pace giving me a bark good morning. Smiling, I pick her up in my arms and gently pet the top of her head as she licks my hand. My mom reluctantly agreed to take Luna while I’m away… to my surprise. It’s going to be hard not having her by my side like always.

After eating some breakfast and giving Luna her breakfast as well, I finish up the last of my packing. I throw on an oversized white sweater after my quick shower, feeling comfy for the long plane ride. I pair it with black leggings and throw on my black slip on Vans. Pulling my damp hair back into a French braid and putting on a little bit of makeup, I sigh realizing how soon I’ll be in a whole other country. At this point, it’s already 11:30. Before grabbing all of my bags, I give pick Luna up and cradle her into my arms. Holding her against me, I give a kiss to her head and I hug her a little too tight. My heart sinks at the fact that she has no clue what’s going on and she probably thinks I’ll be coming back after work like I usually do. I left a spare key for my mother so she’ll becoming by in an hour or so to pick her up. Opening my door, I give a last and longing look at my apartment and take a deep breath. Onto a new chapter in my life.

The airport is complete madness. I’ve always hated airports. The smells, the loud noises, people running to make it to their terminal while alsorunning into other people. Many times, I had to dodge myself from another person coming at me full force with a panic-stricken face. It’s about 12:45 so my plane could be boarding any minute. To occupy myself in the time I’ve been here I got myself another cup of coffee and read some magazines. There was an article about Harry Styles actually. Intrigued, I read it wanting to know more about the person I’m going to spend all of my time with. Something about a new fling. This boy is in the tabloids so much I wonder what’s true and what isn’t. No doubt, he’s a lady’s man.

Love on the Weekend, a song by John Mayer is playing through my headphones. The soothing tone of his voice and the calming melody helps keep me sane in the midst of such a fast-pace and crazy environment. Everyone else’s stress, stresses me out. As I’m reading through the magazine I hear the intercom notify us that my plane is now boarding. Grabbing all of my bags in my hands, I make my way onto the plane. London here I come.

                                                   ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The sudden bump of the airplane wakes me, along with some woman shaking my shoulder to tell me we’ve landed. Squinting my eyes because of the brightness I take a look out my window and see it’s pitch black. Oh. Right. It’s about 1:30 in the morning now.

I make my way off the plane into the UK airport. Jeff mentioned something about a car service coming to pick me up to take me to a hotel. Standing in front of the terminal my eyes are in a frenzy as I frantically look for a sign, anything, to let me know who is here for me. After about a minute of searching, I see a sign that reads “Y/N, Y/L/N”. Letting out a sigh of relief I walk over and shake the man’s hand. I have never had my own personal car service before so I’m pretty star-struck by all of this.

 “Good morning Ms. Y/L/N.” The kind man greets me with a pleasant and cheeky grin. I chuckle to myself realizing he said good morning. After all, it is 1am.

 “Good morning to you do!” I laugh, feeling a sense of comfort which is good since I’m in a huge country by myself

 After exchanging some small talk with my chauffer, we get into the vehicle. Completely forgetting how I’m in Europe, he opens the driver side door which happens to be on the right side rather than the left. Glancing out the window I try and see what’s outside, what London looks like. The blackness of the early morning is preventing me to see nearly anything though.

We finally pull up to the hotel, and I thank the driver while giving him a generous tip. This hotel is absolutely gorgeous. My eyes wander the room in awe. I walk inside with my bags and right away, a bell hop helps me out and gives me a cart to push everything. I walk up to the front desk and give them my name. Jeff also said he already booked about two weeks for me. I can’t be anymore grateful for everything he and his team have provided to make sure I’m comfortable. Eventually I’m going to use my savings and the money I make to pay for it myself and hopefully rent a small apartment here in London. I retrieve my room key and make my way up the elevator towards my room. After getting settled in, I lie in bed on my laptop. I received a few emails from Jeff informing me of the address and time I need to be at the office by. Seeing the time, I decide it’s probably a smart idea to get some sleep and turn off the light, close my eyes, and nervously await the next day.

                                                   ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Stepping foot out of the car, I take a look at the building in front me. It’s quite small, definitely not as big SONY back in the States. I was told this was a casual meeting, so I wore a pair of dark skinny jeans, a nice blouse that shows off a tiny bit of cleavage, and black heels. I tried my best to look good since I am meeting Harry today. I just can’t get his face out of my mind. The way he smirks, his dimples peeking through completely erasing the intimidating look only to make him seem absolutely adorable. Shaking the thoughts from my head, I tell myself that this is a job. Professional.

 I walk into the building and meet up with Jeff. Finally meeting him in person, he has dark hair and dark eyes. Scruff on his chin and around his face forming a little bit of a beard. He has a youthful and relaxing glow to him, calming my nerves. There’s no need to feel so uptight

 “Ahh finally I meet the famous Y/N!” he gives me a big cheery smile and pulls me into a hug. I let out a giggle and return his hug.

 “I can’t believe I’m finally here…it’s so surreal.” I say breathlessly. He smirks, looking down at his feet and clasping his hands together.  

 “I know but trust me it’s an opportunity you wouldn’t want to miss.” He leads me down the hall and into a room with a few couches and a table. “I figured it would be a little bit more comfortable and casual to meet Harry in a place that isn’t a business room.” He explains to me, shrugging his shoulder.

 I feel the sweat on my palms start to kick in and rub them along my jeans. The nerves start to settle in at the thought of meeting Harry. Jeff and I talk a little bit before all of the sudden there is a quick knock on the door. My heart feels like it’s beating outside of my chest, assuming Harry Styles is standing on the other side of that door.

 “Yeah!” Jeff yells casually as he scrolls through his phone.

My eyes are peeled on the door when it opens, my teeth gently biting into my bottom lip. Harry walks in with that damn smirk on his face. He’s wearing a plain white t shirt, his tattoos running all along his left arm. My eyes try and keep up with all of them, trying to decipher each one. The swallows on his chest near his collarbones are peeking through the top. His pants are not what I expected from him. They’re black, high-waisted, and are extremely flowy and loose around his legs. I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t want a pair, noticing how comfortable they look. He has a pair of black sunglasses on the top of his head, pushing back his locks in the front. Curls are peaking through near his neck, behind his ears. So endearing.

He’s even more lovely in person.

Then finally, he sets eyes on me. His blue-green irises meet with mine and I feel my breath leave my body for a split second. As he’s staring at me, I notice his eyes glance down at my top, setting on the cleavage I’ve shown. He bites his bottom lip as he looks at me, and I can’t help but blush and look down at my feet. This interaction only lasted about 2 seconds, but it felt like it was moving in slow motion. He strides over to me and puts his hand out for me to shake

 “Hello. My name is Harry.” The deep and husky tone rumbles through his throat. He speaks at a slower pace and his eyes are even more mesmerizing close up. He gives me a little smile, dimples on full display, crinkles by the corners of his eyes. I grab his hand and return the shake, his palm engulfing my small one. The warmth radiating from his hand is a comfortable one, and it sends shivers down my spine. He has multiple rings on his fingers, something I find very attractive. After shaking hands, I immediately wipe my clammy hands against my legs once more.

“Hi. Y/N Y/L/N, your new personal assistant.” I say with a friendly tone, giving him a smile back. I tuck a loose strand behind my ear shyly. He takes note of it and gives me another smirk, chuckling to himself at my awkwardness.

 “Here, have a seat while we chat a bit.” His British accent is a little more obvious this time around. Jeff tells us he has to take a few phone calls and leaves the room. Harry sits opposite of me, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. The metal of the rings are glistening in the light, catching my eye. He has a ring shaped as an H and one as an S right next to it. Peering my eyes away, I try not to make my curiosity too obvious. The fact that he has personalized rings like that, makes me wonder how much money he actually has. I can tell he noticed my gaze, a small smirk forming on his face. But he doesn’t acknowledge it and continues with the conversation. We already have a nonverbal understanding of each other and I just met him.

 “So, tell me a bit about yourself Y/N. Obviously, we’re going to be workin’ with each other every day, so I figured I could get to know yeh now.” Harry rambles on, clearly unsure of what to say.

“Well, I-uh, I’m from New York City. I originally worked at the SONY headquarters, but obviously I’m not anymore.” Harry jokingly rolls his eyes and laughs at my comment. “Um, I have a dog named Luna, but my mother is taking care of her while I’m gone, and uh yeah.” I finish not really sure what else to say. I’m sure he can feel my awkwardness from here and my cheeks heat up at the thought. Why am I so embarrassing?

 “As entertaining as that was, that’s not what I meant.” Harry replies cheekily, a small chuckle leaving his lips. Blushing, I glance down at my shoes wanting to avoid his gaze because of my embarrassment.

“What are some favorite things of yours? Maybe we’ll find common ground or somethin’. I don’t know…like, your favorite ice cream flavor, or favorite movie. Both very important questions f’me if I’m honest.” Harry explains with a playful tone and I struggle to find the answers before I respond. I just feel so overwhelmed at this entire situation, and I think he can feel it too. “I want to get to know Y/N. Not Y/N Y/L/N from SONY.”

Harry looks into my eyes and gives me a comforting smile. He gives off such a calm and collective vibe that suddenly makes me feel a little less overwhelmed. I appreciate that. He makes it easy to talk to him. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for my answer. I giggle at the unprofessional and light-hearted reality of the situation.

 “My favorite ice cream would have to be either cookie dough or mint chocolate chip…” Before continuing on I observe his facial expressions. At the mention of cookie dough his eyes light up but right when I mention mint chocolate chip, he scrunches his nose in disgust which makes me giggle. “What, you don’t like mint chocolate chip?”

“Toothpaste doesn’t belong in ice cream.” He quickly insisted.

“I don’t think so either.”

“Then why do yeh like mint chip?” His confusion is so adorable, but I try and keep a straight face.

“Because… it doesn’t taste like toothpaste. Mint and chocolate is such a good combination, you’re really missing out.” The fact that we’re having a serious debate over ice cream is so funny to me, but it makes me excited to work with him.

“Nope, not at all.” He scrunches his nose once more, and my heart flutters at the cuteness. “Okay enough about ice cream, favorite movie?”

“My favorite movie? That’s such a hard one, I mean I love so many movies I can’t pick just one.”

“Sorry love, yeh gotta choose. For my sake.” He light-heartedly says,,

“If I had to choose, oh God this is so embarrassing…the Little Mermaid. It’s been my favorite since I was little and I idolized Ariel” I giggle at my ridiculous answer. I’ve always found it childish and a little bit embarrassing to say that my favorite movie is some animated Disney movie, but it was a huge part of my childhood and I still love it.

 “That’s actually quite cute that’s your favorite movie. But idolizing a mermaid? How’d you react when yeh found out they aren’t real?” Harry amusingly banters back. He runs his hand through his hair, lifting his sunglasses as he does so only to put them back on his head. Such a simple gesture, but it has me staring at the way his fingers glide through his locks. 

Easing back into a more comfortable position, he rests his arm stretching it along the top of the couch and lifting his leg to rest it across his thigh. His casual form makes me self-conscious about my professional appearance. Harry also seems to be enjoying our conversation, and that eases my subtle nerves. Butterflies form in the pit of my stomach at the sight of him.

“Really? Everyone always makes fun of me for it since I’m 24 and admitting my favorite movie of all time is a fucking princess movie.” Harry chuckles, crinkles by his eyes forming. “I also was devastated when my mom broke the news. 10 year old me was mourning over the fact that mermaids don’t exist. I felt like my whole world was crashing down.” I reply with a grin, a more playful tone in my voice. He lets out a burst of laughter, his smile so wide and contagious it makes me break into a bigger smile. 

“I’m curious, what’s your favorite movie?” I switch the roles, asking him. Giving a deep sigh Harry answers.

“The Notebook or Love Actually.” He says hesitantly. My jaw drops a little bit, surprised. His cheeks start to turn a shade of dark pink, expecting my surprised reaction. He lifts his hand and runs his fingers through his hair again, I’m assuming it’s a nervous habit.

“That makes me feel a lot better about my answer.” I joke with a laugh. “I can’t believe the famous Harry Styles’ favorite movie is a rom-com.”

“What can I say, Ryan Gosling is just too irresistible.” He jokes back, his eyes sparkling as we speak. I roll my eyes at the comment, shaking my head at the silliness of the conversation. The ease of our banter doesn’t go unnoticed and I can tell he’s thinking the same thing. It’s like we’ve known each other for years.

“He is, isn’t he?” I sigh, the image of Ryan Gosling in my head. I never expected Harry to be as playful and amusing as he is. The tabloids make him out to be this intimidating popstar, but all I see is a normal guy with a witty attitude.

“Okay so as much as I love this conversation, I have to lay down the procedures and rules of the job.” Harry states, rolling his eyes. Already, I know he’s going to be pretty laid back about it. “I’m not gonna be one of those guys that order you around asking you to fetch me a coffee, or a muffin, or anything ridiculous like that. You’re a friend not an assistant. Just helping me along the way”

His sincerity is something I’m already admiring. Not to mention his complete and utter kindness. For someone so famous, I’m surprised at how humble he appears to be. Jeff walks in as we speak some more, shoving his phone in his pocket.

“How’s it going?” He asks, plopping down next to me. A small smirk is on his face, eyes wandering from me to Harry.

“Great! Should be fun.” Harry replies, but he keeps his eyes on me with a devilish smile, dimples appearing at each corner. Blushing I tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear. 

This is gonna be a ride.

A/N: Again, thank you for your patience! Let me know what you wanna see as I develop this story, I’m open to plot suggestions :) Also, let me know what you think in general, my DMs and requests are always open. Love you guys!!

If you haven’t yet, read Chapter 1 here

CYBERVERSE WATCH: S3 Episode 13, 14, 15, 16

Episode 13

MACCADAM IS MY GRANDPA NOW

Jetfire!!! And Skybite!!! Skybite’s got a great laugh

Oh wow the cloaking still protects them? Nice!

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE FIX PERCY’S EYES, WHERE THE FRICK IS RATCHET

A MULTIVERSE DRIVE???

PLEASE...PLEASE LET US SEE OTHER UNIVERSES??? OTHER UNIVERSES PLEASE????

SPARE SOME MULTIVERSE STUFF FOR A POOR SOUL???

I mean as it stands, the fact that Cyberverse is talking about this stuff is more than satisfying, man I frickin love this show

“We can launch those squiggly things into a whole ‘nother universe!” his delivery of that line was so good and also Wheeljack pls, then it’ll be another version of you’s problem

MEGATRON REALLY *IS* POUTING, MEGATRON YOU BIG BABY

Maccadam fondly but watching them talk about their battle plans makes me feel so bad for him...

AW MAN IS MEGATRON GONNA CHUCK OPTIMUS INTO A DIFFERENT UNIVERSE

About time you showed up you big pouting pansy

Man these two totally were ex boyfriends

LMAO ARCEE AND SHADOW-STRIKER’S EVIL LAUGHS, THAT”S SO DELIGHTFUL

That Titan should just smack them out of the sky tbh

SKULLCRUNCHER THE CROC...NICE

I love that Soundwave and Roddy are manning the controls

“Commanders command. And you forget, we have backup” CUTE...CUTE....CUTE!!!

I’M SO PROUD OF MY BOYS!!!!!!

BEE!!!It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! I love my little yellow boy!!! Please take care of your dad Bee

OH NO IT”S CREEPY TENTACLE DOCTOR

GOTH GIRL AND PREP GIRL!!! 

MAN I JUST KNOW SOMETHING’S GOING TO GO HORRIFICALLY WRONG HERE

FRICK NOT THIS DUDE AGAIN

AW MAN NOT A WHOLE BUNCH AT ONCE

YEAAAHHHHH WHEELJACK AND MEGATRON WORKING TOGETHER!!! NICE

Two Decepticons and one Autobot...not a good sign

Oh shoot it’s the DECEPTICONS who wanna universe-jump, MEGATRON COME ON DUDE YOU DIDN’T EVEN TAKE YOUR ARMY WITH YOU DUMMY

OH NO!!!!!!

“It’s time for the commanders to join the battle” MAN YOU’RE SO COOL RODDY (YOU TOO SOUNDWAVE)

OH SHOOT THERE GOES THE TOWER

WELL FRICK

DON”T “WE DID IT” HOT ROD YOUR DAD IS IN THAT WRECKAGE

“Quintessons: Inferior. Cybertronians: Superior” MAN I”LL NEVER GET TIRED OF THAT

HE”S SO COOL!!!!! FIST BUMP BUDDIES!!! Man I’m so over the moon that these two wound up getting along

You know I’m suddenly having a revelation: I wonder if they could somehow re-activate all those other Soundwaves to help them against the (inevitable) final battle I’m sure they’re gonna have

WHAT THE FRICK

ARE YOU FRICKIN KIDDING ME

Starscream: CANCELED, CANCELED, YOU”RE ALL CANCELED

Well, Megatron certainly got the heck out of dodge at the right time lmao

Episode 14

I legit thought they were going to do an ATLA ref for half a second

Oh my gosh is this an Autobot recruitment video???

“The universe. You ever thought about it?” GOSH THIS VIDEO....

I’m frickin cackling, the Quintessons were like “Hmm, what’s the worst thing we could possibly inflict on this planet?” then went “Oh, of course, Starscream”

WHY DIDN”T YOU JUST LET GO STARSCREAM

Wow Starscream really did just sell out his entire planet huh

SOUNDWAVE NO!!!!! JEEZ HE GOT EVERYONE

Jeez and Starscream has to share with two other faces, that sucks

Lmao Starscream is just like “Nah judging people is what I was born for”

UNSPACE??? UH OK

WAIT isn’t that what Wheeljack made a few episodes ago????

LMAO HE’S GONNA WAIT TIL HE CAN GET OPTIMUS AND MEGATRON TOO bless Starscream and his pettiness

“First I must witness their humiliation!” STARSCREAM PLEASE the Quintessons really got the worst Judge

OHHH WHAT’S HE GONNA DO

SOUNDWAVE YOU’RE SO POWERFUL!!!!!

OH NO HE GOT THEM AGAIN....

GOSH I ACTUALLY GASPED WHEN THEY BROKE SOUNDWAVE’S AUDIO THING, NO!!!

“Well, it did for one of us, and it only takes one Autobot to make a difference” Bee? Whirl??? Wheeljack???

WINDBLADE!!! EVEN BETTER!!! The person with the braincell!!!

I love that Rodimus doesn’t even look worried, he just sighs like “aw man not this loser again”

On the one hand: Worried about my boys On the other: Man I love these two being buds

Also: Not To Be That Guy But it looks like Soundwave’s wearing white thigh-highs with little orange hearts on them and it’s VERY distracting

“You two work so well together!!!” OH NO OH NO OH NO ARE THEY GONNA FUSE THEM TOGETHER OR SOMETHING

THOSE HEAD MASKS ARE SO DISTURBING

uh oh what kind of loop is this

THE PLAGUE OF RUST OH NO

oh my gosh STARSCREAM’S MAKING THEM DO A BUFFING LOOP...THAT’S REALLY THE WORST THING YOU COULD THINK OF STARSCREAM....

“WHERE ARE MEGATRON AND OPTIMUS PRIME” well Optimus is under a pile of concrete, so

Lmao thank you for your peanut-gallery commentary Kup

OH SHOOT THEY DID JUMP THROUGH THE MULTIVERSE BRIDGE

MAN THAT LOOKS SO FRICKIN COOL???? YO SHOUTOUT TO THE BACKGROUND ARTISTS WHO WORKED ON THIS SHOW, YOU ROCK

SERIOUSLY IM IN LOVE WITH THAT I hope whoever did the background art shares their work online sometime, I’ll be ALL over that

AHH I ALWAYS FORGET HOW SHORT THESE EPISODES ARE

Excuse me, Jeremy Levy as WHO???

Episode 15

Kup you are an...interesting commentator choice lmao

MACCADAM..... :(

Windblade please save our favorite Grandpa

wINDBLADE!

HOW’S IT FEEL BEING THE COOLEST KID ON THE BLOCK WINDBLADE

Wait I *JUST* noticed the title calls this “Bumblebee: Cyberverse Adventures” ???? IS THAT NEW

CALL ME A SUCKER BUT WINDBLADE CRACKING HER NECK AND TELLING THE LITTLE SHARK DUDES TO BRING IT ON WAS QUITE POSSIBLY ONE OF THE BEST MOMENTS OF THE SERIES SO FAR

Windblade: *does anything* Me: IM GAY

“I don’t do fear” GOSH I LOVE MY TALENTED GIRL

OH NO!!! OH NO!!!! WINDBLADE NO!!!!!

AND HER WINGS TOO??? WHY!!!!

MACCADAM HELP HER OUT COME ON DUDE WHAT HAPPENED TO NO FIGHTING

lmao rip at the dude crushed by the juke box

Wait I thought they already woke up Iaconus??

YEAH!!!!!!!! MACCADAM AND WINDBLADE TEAMING UP

“UNFORGIVABLE CRIMES AGAINST ME!” LMAO I LOVE THAT LITERALLY EVERYONE IS TUNING OUT STARSCREAM get rekt Starscream.

Not to rag on people who like Starscream because I like him too but me @ Starscream stans tbh 

You guys just need to hold hands! I mean seriously, come on you guys!

STARSCREAM QUINTESSONS OMG I just noticed they’re all wearing Starscream’s colors pffft

AW.....MACCADAM’S FIRST HIGH-FIVE....:’) I bet Windblade and Maccadam both give the best hugs and best high-fives 

They’re so cute MAN I love Cyberverse!!!! I love how sweet these characters are!!!

A psychic trap??? Hoo boy

Windblade: How do I defeat this psychic trap? Maccadam: Well, it would help if you had any bug or dark-type Pokemon on you.

“Or you could just tell me!” I JUST SAID THAT TOO LMAO gosh I love the writing on this show

OHHH I LOVE THE CONTRAST OF IACONUS’ BRAIN WITH BEE’S BRAIN IN SEASON ONE, THAT”S SO GOOD

OH LMAO HE MEANT HER SWORD I thought he meant like “your inner-strength” or “your wisdom” NO HE MEANT “USE YOUR SWORD WINDBLADE” LOL

OHHH SPOOKY VOICE, I DIG IT

Wow Starscream’s really reading out his 1000 page long call-out post to a captive audience

LMAO THEY”RE JUST LISTING OUT DATE LOCATIONS

CHROMIA IS SO CUTE!!!!!!!! AHHH

OH NO ARCEE!!!!

I LOVE ARCEE, “HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT YOU BASTARD”

OH SHOOT JK I GUESS THEY REALLY DIDN”T TOTALLY WAKE HIM  UP LAST TIME I was wondering why he was just an arm

TITAN TIME!!!

Episode 16

To toast the flares off a neutron star....cute....

Wouldn’t it be cute if Kup was telling this story to a bunch of baby Cybertronians

Awh....Maccadam I’m sorry your old Titan had to re-awaken :(

“Too bad I won’t know how it ends” OH NO ARE YOU GUYS GONNA KILL OFF MACCADAM???? NO!!!!

Iaconus looks frickin RAD I’m sure Hasbro will make a killing off his toys

Speaking of I really hope they release Cyberverse on DVD in a bundle-pack

“War Titan, do NOT ignore me!” YEAH USE YOUR MOM VOICE ON HIM WINDBLADE!!!

LOVE THAT ROCK MUSIC

“This has never happened before” now THERE’S an interesting tidbit

OH NO....ITS THE OTHER TITAN....CROATON....

on the one hand, I’m SO glad we’re getting the Titan battle I crave, but on the other, CROATON NO!!!

TRIFORCE BEAM!!!

I love that Windblade is Jaeger-ing this frickin Titan solo

WHOOPS THERE GOES THE STADIUM

“Optimus had a fight of his own...with gravity!” oh how the mighty have fallen Optimus lmao

I wonder how this wonky universe would handle a flier

JUST THROW A BUILDING AT A TITAN, NBD

SOMEONE PLEASE CATCH ARCEE

THANKS GRIMLOCK

THERE’S RATCHET Finally, I was wondering where he was

“Well it’s not my fault this won’t be a fair fight” OH SHOOT THERE IT IS!!! THERE IT IS

I can’t believe Starscream is trying to back-seat drive this fight lmao

SOUNDWAVE NO!!!! Oh thank goodness they’re ok

OH NO OH NO

IS THIS IT IS HE GONNA DIE?? MAC DONT GIVE IN TO FATE!!!  NO!!!

MAC NO!!!!!!!!!! MAC YOU DIDN”T HAVE TO DIE NO!!! YOU LITERALLY DID NOT HAVE TO STAND THERE AND GET BLASTED WHY DID YOU DO THAT!!!!!!!

“My last citizen...he is gone” FRICK IM GONNA START CRYING

Quints > Murdered Croaton's citizens most likely > Enslave Croaton > Inadvertently kill Iaconus' last citizen (WHICH HURT BECAUSE WE'RE MADE TO ASSUME IACONUS ONLY CARES ABOUT WAR BUT NO, HE LOVES HIS CITIZENS DEEP DOWN) > BEHEAD IACONUS LIKE, WHY YOU GOTTA STAB ME IN THE HEART LIKE THIS

Wheeljack you’re so smart but ALSO IM STILL CRYING OVER MACCADAM

“Hehe, you’re a nasty little fella” NICE JOB COWBOY

OH NO ALL THE SOUNDWAVES DANGIT I KNEW IT

AND HE”S A BIG LIAR HE DID HAVE SOME BLUE SOUNDWAVES

OH NO WHAT ABOUT WINDBLADE

HECK THAT”S SUCH A BAD PLACE TO STOP BUT I CANT WATCH ANY MORE EPISODES RN I GOTTA STAGGER THIS SERIES

hi!! i read the lore post about the boys jo posted but what else about your ocs do u think is really defining of their character... big or small details 😁

hi!!! you did?? 😳 thats crazy me and jo never think anyone even pays attention to that.

well!

CHRIS:

-he has bipolar I! i dont remember if this was mentioned or not

-he's very very sensitive, very self concious. he's the type to like cry just because you told him there was something in in his teeth 😔

-he has a kind of..... 'sixth sense' thing about him! like in mystic overhang, a lot of crazy, weird, supernatural/paranormal/poopoopeepee happens and chris is always aware of it and knows about it and he Feels it. its like a unique connection he has with the town. he and church kind of share this 'sense' together, and they bond over it in some points of their lives!

-he likes to wear girl clothes and accsessories 😳 it's tea, i know. he'll wear chokers made of jewelry string and butterfly beads and also wear a blouse that he distorts and stretches to fit his style (: he loves that sorta shit.

LEWIS:

-lewis actually really really enjoys his job at the junkyard where he moves and lugs around pieces of scrap and junk metal all day. he likes to see the sorta things people throw out.

-he's got a fear of horses 🥺 but he LOVES cows!! especially one cow he used to talk to back at the commune when he was little that was brown and white and she loved lewis dearly. they had a very special connection

-you will see the literal embodiment of wrath come out of this boy if you hurt or upset chris in any shape or form. he's very particular about how people treat him, especially when he knows chris has been extremely sensitive and if he's going through one of his depressive episodes.

-lewis can SING! and he can sing very well (: he was a choir boy back at the commune when he was young. he sings very sweet and soft, and he feels most comfortable singing to himself when he's doing small tasks and midless activities.

MIKAEL:

-mikael is VERY good at guitar! he has a band named GRiND that he is the lead singer and gutiarist in. when he's older, he becomes a radio host and he plays gigs at bars and pubs and stuff 😳

-he has a foster sister named April that was in one of his foster homes that he stayed in for a while. she has low-functioning autism and he takes care of her throughout the years and years that he knows her. it's very special. he visits her weekly when he moves out.

-he's very supportive and understanding. rarely will mikael ever argue or disagree with someone. he's very non-commital and carefree! which comes with its pros and cons. he knows well how to deal with people who are upset and/or angry.

-he fucks cody's sister elizabeth, a cheerleader at knightwood high, for a WHILE!

BEN:

-he's a mommy's boy! dawn, his mom, still makes his lunches and does his laundry and kisses his booboo's. he won't leave for school until she's kissed his cheek twice.

-when he smokes weed with the boys he gets very very paranoid. he thinks he'd very loud when he's not and he always thinks someones watching him, or hes on the verge of losing his mind or peeing his pants, or his mom will find him and ridicule.

-he bails chris out of jail once!! why was chris in there? idk he was probably loitering some place at night and pooped on the police officer

KYLO:

-he's really a sweetheart 🥺 he tries to see the good in everything! he's very optimistic, which pisses chris and ben off a lot.

-he has epilepsy, but mikael knows well how to help him through his spells.

-he has vitiligo, did the long post say that? idk. but he has times where hes more self concious about it than others. but it doesnt stop him from looking sharp! he always gels his hair and always carries a comb. his features are really sharp, too, which give him an innocent kind of edge. he's cute 🥰

CHURCH:

-church had a little thing with a sweet trans girl named matilda at his foster home when he was 13!! it's really cute and innocent. they meet at the little lake down a ways and skip rocks in the water together.

-he and jo live on the streets for four entire years on their own! church is very sad during this. they sleep in train cars and under bridges and they eat cans of beans and corn together. he is forever grateful to jo because of this, and he tries hard to show him in his own churchy ways.

-church has a very bad, self-harm habit of burning himself on his arms with lighters and cigarettes. he has soft rosy scars all over his skin 🥺

JO:

-jo is a big, big sweetheart but he's very clueless to specific things. things like social cues, body language, specific tones of voice, etc.

-he really enjoys working on vehicles!! especially his truck (: he bought it completely worn down and fixed it all up himself. he's very proud of it, he even named it after one of his ex girlfriends!

-when he was around 16 he had a gay encounter with another boy but he doesn't like to acknowledge or admit that he liked it :/ as of now, though, he still goes by 'straight'....this dude really digs chicks i guess

omg okay so i was totally ignorant but now i am enlightened because the brilliant @h00f sent me the booth video recording and im dying over it so here we goooo. i recorded it and uploaded the vid into davinci resolve so i could zoom in and also go through frame by frame.

tl;dr: so its all good its all good UM TYREEN’S TATTOOS WENT MISSING ON HER FOREARM AND THEN SHE SUCKED A MONSTER AND THEY REAPPEARED so it’s all good it’s all good im not having a crisis. im not. i thiiiiiiiiink we see the Vault of Promethea (the one with the cranes, but lilith also says “wherever the hunt for the vaults takes us” which throws me off a bit. still kinda think it’s promethea tho).

so not what i was expecting to be doing at 2:32 am but you know what? this is okay, borderlands gives me literally infinite energy

and new content? HOH BOY i am going to go so fucking in depth. hold onto ur horses. i was working on my mock intro to the game but this is so much better

UMM?? HOLY SIHT????

THAT’S THE SAME TILE AS THE ONE IN THE TEMPLE

I THOUGHT THIS WAS ON EDEN-6???

same tile on the wall on the right there

those guardian statues have staffs!!! that’s so rad, like the Watcher and shit, they also have less big necks?? or they might be bowing down. they look a lot more humanoid than the guardian/eridian statues im used to!!!

like as far as i can see they don’t have the butt spikes? maybe these are just super well preserved and thus not broken/spiky/cracked!! I do think the staffs are awesome! I know the Watcher carried one and so do some in TPS (I don’t recall seeing any in bl1 with staffs? im pretty sure they used their energy claw things) so maybe these are a higher tier of guardian than the ones we see in bl1? (which, if the Eridians wanted us to open Pandora’s vault as punishment for stealing fire the tech on Promethea, then that would make sense)

AND THE CRANES! and the buildings!!!!! is this Promethea’s vault? there’s something in the sky near the moon (?) so i thought maybe that was the asteroid belt but... it’s only condensed in one area..? 

it looks like a rocky place (you know, the quasmarian quarry Typhon mentions?!), i could see it, it looks super well-kept!!! my only problem?? it’s not underground/next to a cliff or anything. i guess it’s actually possible with those cranes and shit that it’s been excavated completely

i think we walk out of a temple here, which makes me think this is connected to the temple with all those monster dudes in it (also i can’t be the only one who thinks the blue sparkles on the statue on the far left makes it look like it has a shiny thicc butt. i CANNOT be the only one)

you know this one

well ACTUALLY in the We Are Mayhem trailer we DO see one of these guys!!! he’s on Maliwan’s side as the VHs are running across the bridge and im pretty sure that is Promethea!

IM PRETTY SURE

the neon lights and shit make me think it is in fact the city!!! maybe a part of the city that’s been totally overrun by Maliwan??

okay im certain this is promethea, those turrets we 100% see in the gameplay reveal trailer (below)

i thought i recognized that silhouette!

so unless maliwan is carting those demon dudes from a different planet to use in their army, I’m going to guess the huge ass temple was excavated from when Typhon found it (explaining the cranes and buildings) and Maliwan maybe took control with the CoV and somehow?? got control of those big demon boys. not quite sure tbh

OKAY SO THIS IS SO AWESOME ASDFGFHGJFK IM NERDING THE HELL OUT I LOVE ERIDIAN STUFF AAAA OKAY SORRY IM JUST ADSFSGFHYDJUK

AND THIS ONE LOOKS SO TINY?? I AAAA I KNOW IT’S NOT BUT??

THIS FEELS LIKE IT WOULD BE THE VAULT ON ATHENAS (IF THERE IS ONE) THOSE STAIRS (??) ARE GIVING ME THE VIBE. THERE IS UNFORTUNATELY NOT A LOT TO WORK OFF OF HERE, BUT THE PROJECTION THING IT’S DOING IS NEATO!! 

okay so this is either paint or light. and i can’t tell if that’s a person up there or a statue or something? I feel like i can’t almost see a cross or something so...

THEN IT CUTS TO THIS? AND HOLY STARGATE VIBES BATMAN I LOVE IT

i have a huuuuge feeling at least one of these Vaults is going to appear in like a cutscene of a flashback where Rhys and/or Fiona describe what happened at the end of Tales. The reason I’m bringing this up right now is because this Vault is just... in a void. There’s nothing around it except that gradient which is really bizarre to me.

JUST

ALL OF THIS

HOLY HELL THAT LOOKS LIKE A FORTRESS IN THE BACKGROUND MAYBE THAT’S WHERE THE TWINS ‘LIVE’? I IMAGINE THEY HAVE SOME SORT OF PLACE TO SLEEP AT THE VERY LEAST

it has the mouthpiece shape on the top up there? although i guess that could also be a VERY crude statue of someone raising their hands to the sky?? but it looks like the mouthpiece symbol. 

another shot of the HBC

intro to the rc

what i am assuming is the back area of the RC? but uh... given what we saw above, maybe this is in their fortress area???? imagine lilith teleports away because the twins stole the key from us and we have to sprint to their fortress base and when we get there it opens into a cutscene and Lilith is crawling on the ground away from them

mhmhmhmhmhmmm

heyo look at those shapes and colors on the left there. you know exactly what im gonna say

im gonna say it anyway

inhale atlasatlasatlasatlasatlasatlasatlasatlasatlas

okay i think i got it out of my system

it could also be dahl architecture (because it looks very very similar to the RC) painted with the colors of the CoV. Could also be that. 

i do think it’s interesting because this is almost the exact same shot as this!!

which means this is here

and i can 100% see this being in their fortress (???) and not the RC. The RC has that huge area in the back we don’t explore yet, so it could be there but... now I’m thinking... what if that’s just so we find the clue that the sun smashers gave the key to the twins in the HBC? Like i know i said the room Shiv comes out of is gonna be it but... maybe the whole area is just for quest stuff? or there’s a loot room or smth. idk. it’s good to keep ur mind open to alternative possibilities, is all

we get to learn what color Tyreen’s power actually is! ... I think? I’m pretty sure. like im hopeful this happens before she steals Lily’s powers...? but?? anyway although the vid is washed out, if we look at the shot from the dev trailer, it seems to be purple/red. I thought it was straight red, but guess not. Unless this IS after she stole Lily’s powers and that’s why she’s looking at it like that LMAO. i don’t know!!

Troy with a little robot buddy! Did he build that?! it’s adorable! it reminds me of the one in the RC but without a snake body. I wonder if his body mods/arm/neural implants let him control it. that’d be so rad

... why did the background start glowing???

ty in the hbc!!!

same shot with troy. i think this is the same cutscene as the reveal trailer one (VS the Calypso Twins) just at a slightly different angle/animation

oh shit is that a demon boy in the background? i think it might be

definitely looks like the temple area!! those spikes look like they could’ve been part of one’s wings, you can even see the thin skin bit stretched out on the left next to tyreen. also... is that an eyeball on the part in the middle there? that’s horrifying. no thank you.

so far, literally the closest we see Troy near one. This is 100% after he shed the monster skin like a snake. ... I’m kidding. mostly.

also i can’t believe my art of the twins giving the rock on symbol is actually legit. i posted that literally the morning before their personalities were revealed in the demo, im so happy

if this is not the video we see in Shiv’s room I’m gonna be so disappointed. is that a sword behind the box? Also i think i understand why the Map Machine Broke now. I am under the assumption this happens before they steal lily’s powers, but it’s entirely possible it’s after! this looks like the area they steal them in, so maybe lily sees it on live stream and is like “NOPE FUCK THIS” and teleports in to steal it. that’d be really interesting... still hoping they steal her tats after the HBC tho. im gon b really upset if they dont lol (not really, because it’s fucking bl3, but like... why would u then go put the map with mouthpiece... why...)

troy has his tattoos here! that or his skin has been peeled off and he’s losing a lot of blood. let’s say he has his tattoos so i can sleep tonight :)

cuts to him catching the key? almost want to say this is a different scene entirely than the previous one. same area, probably though

hmhmhmhmhm the fortress (?????) doesn’t seem to be connected to a rock wall at all (it’s elevated on like a plateau) so you know what, maybe this IS in the RC afterall!

fuckin mlg over here

oh it stops glowing again. you know maybe its on like a timer/pulsing or something. maybe that’s not important lol

back at the monster. why does tyreen look nervous/in pain? AND WHERE DID HER FOREARM TATTOOS GO???

OH MY GOD

THEY ONLY START REAPPEARING AFTER SHE DOES THE SUCK ON SOMETHING BELOW HER

WAIT HOLD UP

 UMM 

wTF???

i think that’s the horn or part of the monster they were sitting on/had killed???

holy shit. are tyreen’s tattoos/powers temporary and she has to continuously suck the life force out of stuff to keep them going??????? maybe stronger stuff = longer battery life??? holy shit.

troy in jakobs manor! explains the psychos with tv heads being hung everywhere

i was about to say this was the HBC but its not. ‘HOLY CHILDREN’ maybe this is where the VHs are walking forward with the giant spike head behind them. you know, this area?

altho that would be the outside of it. ACTUALLY maybe this is the entrance to the fort?? the walls like like castle walls lol

what in the holy fuck is that thing??

it looks like a fucking dragon??? sitting on a wire ball?

where the heck is this? in the temple area maybe? i don’t ever remember the floors glowing, but they do look similar. 

oh and the twins shake forearms again. maybe Tyreen is giving Troy half her powers or something and whenever she does her tattoos start to disappear so she has to suck more energy from other stuff to keep them present??

to this shot, so it’s a possibility. maybe they figured out how to “activate” stuff or something! And i am kinda thinking this is on Promethea now because of the Vault being similar? and the big demon boys appearing. but again like... the Eridians were kinda EVERYWHERE so it’s hard to say for certain even if the architecture looks similar. of course it would, they were goddamn everywhere. still curious as to why Little Blue gets that book, though. is it typhon’s book? a siren’s book? a researcher’s book? one of her ancestor’s books? i don’t know! lol

another shot of this. is this actually a vault???? it seems small and tbh the vaults are usually like... not shaped/designed like this? maybe it’s a statue. idk this feels wrong saying it’s a Vault. it doesn’t even have the inscriptions. maybe the academic district on athenas has a statue of a vault bc they’ve got a bunch of weird shit like Amara’s tattoos on a building and a vault symbol for a door so why the heck not this too lmao

the circus area with the ferris wheel! im so excited for this area. hype hype. it looks like it’s next to the motorcade. maybe this is where the big face arena place with pain and terror is, too!!! i could see the whole arena type deal being in a giant red circus tent

oooo where the fuck is this?? im interested. my first thought was a spaceship bc of the machinery (?) in the back but... maybe not?

maybe some part of the CoV spaces we’ve already seen? the railing in the back makes me think so.

back in the HBC!

space shot of Promethea (the asteroid belt and city lights)

it was at this point in the vid i started crying (like for real lol)

god im so ready for this game

Sanc-III!

colors check out 

im still wondering where that blue ship is...

they have totally different paint designs and the blue one is on the cover art as well!!! what is UP with that gearbox?!

anyway, this is TAKE OFF and also a nice shot of Elpis in the background. the crackening lava seems to have died down over 7 or so years. good for her.

“Pandora”. i love the sky, holy shit that’s gorgeous. what’s in the sky there by the moon? i don’t know! maybe sanc-iii actually DOES have a cloaking device. damn, i was kidding, but that’d be amazing

eden-6! with the jakobs manor in the background. this looks vvvv similar if not the same area we got the moze gameplay in

Promethea!!!!!!! wow this place is gorgeous holy shit

as this shot appears lily says “wherever the hunt for the Vaults takes us” which is likely implying this isn’t promethea. athenas, then? It’s possible, we see Maliwan has occupied at LEAST the academic district so i could see them excavating a Vault.

THERE’S A BIRD where do we see birds??? on eden-6, but this 100% does not look like eden-6 to me... it would explain the temple, though....... because tannis has the floor tile in her office the same time she’s crawling around inside a dino so... maybe???

we’ll have to see! I kinda hope it’s promethea, seeing large buildings and cranes and shit would only really fit my views of Promethea and Pandora.... the whole area is giving off weird blue sparkly effects, maybe it has been teleported or summoned or something? i don’t really know what’s up with that tbh.

it cuts off on this shot

wondering if this is like a character selection screen or smth it reminds me of the persona “press start” screens haha

also the art in the background is pretty rad. anyway that’s all for now folks

im gonna go pass out now, it’s 4:12 in the am. gnight

edit: i got my acronyms for the hbc and rc messed up bc i am a v tired.

baby just say yes | s.m. one shot

a/n: here’s a cute little one shot, nothing related to the post i made yesterday. just some fun! 

Taylor Swift wasn’t like your idol or anything; she was pretty bad ass though. And you were a sucker for a good concert. So coming to Taylor Swift’s Reputation Tour with your best friend wasn’t exactly a chore for you. Cassy was the true T Swift fan and was, rightfully so, in the middle what she would no doubt call the best night of her life tomorrow morning.

Going to a Taylor Swift concert was never a bad decision, if you catch the drift. She just knew how to perform. She had quite possibly some of the best visuals you’ve ever seen in a live concert, and it was hard not to feel completely engrossed with her and her stage presence. Which is why Cassy hadn’t as much as looked over at you in the 45 minutes that Taylor had been on stage. Her eyes were glued to the singer like her life depended on it. You weren’t much better yourself though. Lights were flashing everywhere, fireworks shot into the sky. And frankly, you felt a little disoriented in the best possible way.

Taylor was singing a shortened version of Style currently, before she finished it out.

“Would you please make some noise for my band!” She screamed, throwing her hands into the air where her band began making their way onto the stage with her.

The tell tale notes of Love Story began playing, and it was suddenly 2008 again. And you were suddenly a middle schooler again, playing on your sidekick phone, listening to your iPod nano.

Despite being eleven years old, this song still had you (and let’s be real, everyone in the stadium) rocking out like you were listening to the greatest hits album of a class rock band. As the chorus of the song came around, it felt like the stadium was literally shaking. Everyone around you was jumping, including yourself. Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone. You and Cassy turned to look at each other, screaming the lyrics at the top of your lungs. I’ll be waiting. All we have to do is run. You’ll be the prince. And I’ll be the princess. It’s a love story, baby just say yes. The energy was unlike anything you’ve ever witness before, and the crowd settled just a bit as the second verse came around.

Taylor was on stage going to town with her band, jamming out just as hard as we were. You could tell, it didn’t matter that the song was so old. She wasn’t tired of it. It were her own words, and she was proud of them.

The second chorus came back through, and the crowd upped the ante. Flashing lights were everywhere, and it felt like you couldn’t even see straight. You screamed the lyrics at the top of your lungs, not caring who heard you. You flipped your hair a bit dramatically just for the hell of it and you were having the time of your life. It wasn’t until half way through the chorus that you noticed the guy next you slowly creeping closer to you, completely unaware of his own surroundings. He was just up and down, pumping his arms in the air with a beer in his hand. He was faced away from you, and you figured it wasn’t a big deal. He was clearly just enjoying the song as much as you were. Romeo save me, they’re trying to tell me how to feel. This love is difficult, but it’s so real. Don’t be afraid we’ll make it out of this mess it’s a —

You felt a elbow jam into your ribcage completely unexpectedly and your breath shot out in a sharp yell.

“Fuck!” You heard the boy say as he swung around to see you.

You let out a breath for completely different reasons. He was beautiful. Like, a greek god sculpture beautiful. He had these perfectly smooth brown curls and rosy cheeks. His eyes were so kind. He grabbed onto your forearm to steady you. He had fucking gigantic hands.

“I’m so sorry!” He shouted at me, leaning in closer to make sure I heard him.

You nodded stupidly for a moment before coming to your senses, “It’s okay, yeah. No problem.”

It felt like a little bit of a problem, considering your rib cage was throbbing, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Jesus, I’m sorry. I should really be more careful!”

You smiled at his second apology, “We’re just all trying to have fun. No harm,” you shrugged it off.

He smiled at your, finally letting go of your arm. “Let me make it up to you. I’ll buy you a drink.” He was still shouting, even though the song had just gone into the quiet bridge, causing Cassy to look over at you in concern.

“It’s really not a problem,” you smiled at him.

“Please,” he asked, quieter this time. His smile was absolutely blinding and you couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him again.

“Well, okay…” You trailed off as he turned away from you.

You expected him to leave to go get a drink. But he only took a few steps away from you, speaking a few words to a tall man in a black shirt. The man nodded before he turned and went in the opposite direction of the stadium’s concessions area. It was weird, but you decided to turn your attention back to Taylor on stage who had just shifted to the song You Belong with Me. You looked at Cassy, who was still staring at you. You just shrugged before you both when back to singing the lyrics along with Taylor.

“Let me see you jump!” Taylor shouted, and again the stadium erupted.

Soon after, the song finished out, screams filling the entire stadium so it was impossible to hear. The lights fell dark, and the stadium full of people quickly went silent. A eerily dark video of Taylor playing remixed clips of old songs began to play in front of you, and you knew something big was about to happen. Next to you Cassy was literally vibrating from excitement. The video ended as Taylor dramatically took her place on a throne, looking like a mother fucking badass queen and she winked, just as the beginning of Look What You Made Me Do came to life.

You felt a hand reach onto your lower back, and you quickly looked over to your friend with spastic elbow, smiling lightly. He handed you a Corona, which you thanked him for before you both returned to looking at Taylor. As the lights came up, and Taylor came through the floor of the stage. The boy dropped his hand from your side, but didn’t make any move to step further away from you.

Deciding to ignore the obvious move to stand closer to you, you simply sipped on the beer and continued to enjoy yourself.

It surprised you every time the boy got hyped up for certain lyrics. Throughout the concert, it was clear that he knew most, if not all, of the lyrics to her songs. He wasn’t drug along to this concert against his will, but was certainly here for his own enjoyment.

“Look at the stage, you’re gonna miss it!” Shawn shouted to one of his friends, right before a giant fucking snack crept in behind Taylor.

“Oh, god, Brian!” He shouted at one point to his friend, “I love when she does this! Watch! Watch! Watch what she’s about to do. God it’s so fucking epic!”

“Listen to the note change, ugh.”

It was odd, he somehow knew what was going to happen before it happened. Like he’d seen it before, but not just once. Like he had to know...more.

About half way into the concert, your curiosity had peaked. He still stood close to you, and you were close enough to touch. You lightly bumped your shoulder against his, and he looked over at you with that blinding smile. He bent down a bit so that he could hear you when you said, “How do you know everything that’s about to happen?”

He looked at you confused for a moment before realization seemed to set in.

“You’ve seen her before, I’m assuming?” You questioned again.

He laughed at that, his head falling back, and hand coming to his chest. “Try over thirty times.”

You eyes blew wide, “What? How is that even possible?”

Shawn laughed again, “I opened for her 1989 tour, hun.”

You stared at him, and then looked back at Taylor. Then you looked over at Cassy, who was completely unaware of these proceedings. Surely she would have recognized a famous person standing next to them, right? She was always up on the latest celeb gossip and stuff. That was her scene, not yours. You turned back to Taylor who was now standing in a beautiful black dress singing a song called Dress. Finally you looked back at him.

“You’re shitting me right?”

His eyes gleamed, “No, I swear to god.”

“Who are you?” You finally asked.

“Shawn Mendes,” he reached out his hand to shake yours. You slowly reached out, in complete shock.

You didn’t know who Shawn Mendes was, if you’re being honest. Not based off pure facial and name recognition, but maybe you’d heard his songs before in passing?

“Nice to meet you,” Shawn said sweetly. “What’s your name?”

You told him your name, still completely lost for words.

“So, you like...sing?”

He just nodded, beaming with pride.

You turned to Cassy, tapping her. She looked at you, and you leaned over to her. “Do you know this guy?” You kind of shouted at her over the music.

Cassy leaned past you to look at Shawn. She smiled and waved before turning back, “Yeah dude, that’s Shawn Mendes.”

You’d never seen Cassy so calm in her entire life. She was feet away from a celebrity and couldn’t care less. It was so out of character for her, but you figured she must have been more interested in seeing Taylor Swift sing than care about some boy singer standing next to you.

You turned back to Shawn, “Guess I’m the only person who had no fucking clue who you are.”

“That’s okay,” Shawn smiled. “I’m nobody special.”

You highly doubted that just based off what little interaction you’d had with him, but you let it slide anyway. Returning your focus to Taylor, you did your best to forget about the utterly gorgeous famous man standing next to you. Shawn, however, seemed to be doing the exact opposite. Instead of saying things to his friends, he now spoke to you randomly. Saying cute comments about something Taylor did on stage to you. His arm was pressed fully against your own, and his heat radiated off of you. People jumped and screamed around you, but the two of you stood still. Connected in some odd way.

“Oh, this is a good song!” You told Shawn as Taylor started singing This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things.

“Oh yeah, and she totally kills the stage aspect of it too. It’s absolutely epic.”

And he was right. Taylor completely destroy the stage for the last song of the concert. It was the perfect energy to go out on. Shawn, standing next to you, was singing along with Taylor, his head bobbing up and down. You took the moment to just look and admire him. His jawline and rosy cheeks. The cute hoop earring that you’re just noticing in his left ear. He was a site to see, and his voice was heavenly. So you understood why he must have fans.

Shawn eventually turned to you, smiling when he saw you looking at him. You quickly looked back towards the stage, hoping it wasn’t as obvious as it seemed like it was. He bumped your shoulder lightly, chuckling as he did. You looked up at him, and he looked down at you. You could feel the smile across your face, and frankly your cheeks were starting to ache.

“You know, I’m glad I elbowed you earlier,” Shawn laughed.

You laughed with him before responding, “Well it hurt, so I mean...maybe next time just say hi?”

Shawn nodded, “I can do that.”

Taylor finished her show only minutes later, and you started to feel a sinking feeling in her stomach. A tightening in your chest formed, thinking about how this was the end. The end of a concert always sucked, and post concert depression was always sure to follow. In the moments after such a huge high, a rush of excitement and adrenaline, the low point sucked. But you were thinking about a different end. The end of a night spent with the boy standing next to you. Who still had moved, despite people hustling out of the concert quickly trying to get out before the rush of cars. Cassy was crying next to you and you and Shawn stood completely still for a moment, before he finally turned to you.

“It was really nice meeting you, Y/N. I’m really sorry for elbowing you,” He smiled shyly. He paused for a moment, tugging at a few of his curls. “Uh, would you? Could I maybe, give you my number?”

You felt your heartbeat quicken as you smiled at him, “Yeah. I’d really love that.”

tagged: @peacedolantwins2 @fourtristattoos @rosecth @unhealthyobsessionwithmarvel 

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Right By My Side (T’Challa x Reader)

Warnings: angst, some white tears, an angsty flashback included in italics, but real marshmallow fluffy fluff at the end. “I just hope your heart hear me now I let you know how I'm feeling You own my heart, he just renting Don't turn away, pay attention I'm pouring out my heart oh boy” - Nicki Minaj feat. Chris Brown

A/N: I used this gif because it’s adorable and look at how adorable he looks right before he kisses her but this is a READER INSERT as always. Nakia doesn’t even pop in this oneshot so just pretend it’s you in the gif which I know is hard because I’m doing right now as I’m typing this and its not working and the more I look at it, the more it pisses me off because that’s my fucking man but Imma chill. Anyways, let’s get angsty and fluffy. 

***************** Your head rested in your hand as you twirled the creamy fettuccine on your dinner plate. You say in the comfy booth of the Cheesecake Factory as your blind date that was in front of you was paying more attention to his phone than you. This is the third time you subjected yourself to the torture that they call “blind dates.” They’re not your thing but you started it because you just needed to get over him. You took a bite of your pasta shaking your head as he continued to scroll down his phone. “Having fun on your phone there?” You finally spoke dropping the metal fork on the plate. Your blind date, Lawrence, widened his eyes in embarrassment. “Oh shit. I’m sorry.......” he trailed off and you rolled your eyes scoffing. Is he fucking serious? “Y/N.” The white boy in front of you gave you a nervous smile. Yeah, you were thinking “what the fuck were you doing on a date with a colonizer?” You hit all the way rock bottom.

“Y/N. I’m just settling some things. I promise I’ll put all my attention back on you.” Lawrence repeated for the third time this evening but this time he forgot to turn his phone over and you leaned over to see the Instagram post of a cute white girl projected on his iPhone X. “Settling something with that girl on your screen?” You raised an eyebrow gesturing towards the phone with your fork. Shock was displayed on his pale face and you continued. “Let me guess. She’s your ex you’re trying to get over with blind dates but clearly it’s not working. As a bonus, you figured you should get a black girl because it’ll be “new” and “exotic” and a pleasant change from your ex. Am I correct?” You tilted your head after reading the hell out of his colonizer ass. Yeah you were kind of doing the same thing but at least you had the respect for him to not scroll through your ex’s pictures and social media right in front of him. Lawrence blinked rapidly before putting his face in his hands and began releasing full blown sobs. His narrow shoulders shook up and down and you leaned back uncomfortably. You had no problem with a man being in touch with his emotions. Your ex was always communicating about how he felt which you love about him. Well, loved. “I just love her so much! Cheyenne! I miss you so much, Cheyenne!” Lawrence wailed laying his head on the table. You looked around at your fellow patrons who were staring at you and the sobbing white boy. This was not a good look. Your waiter finally came around and you whispered to them. “Please bring separate checks and a slice of red velvet cheesecake to go.” You looked back at Lawrence and whispered back to them. “Scratch that. Give me that cheesecake to go. He’s taking care of the check.” When the waiter brought the cheesecake in the bag, you took the cheesecake thanking him and stood up from the booth. Lawrence quieted his sobbing a little bit. “I’m so sorry! I just miss her so much. I’m trying to forget her but it’s hard! I’m so sorry....” he trailed off once again and you rolled your eyes putting your caramel colored crossbody on. You put your hand up shushing him. “It’s ok. Just lose my number and we’re good. I hope you get your ex back and I’ll see you never.” You pushed the check towards him and grabbed your cheesecake. “You might wanna take care of that. Ok byeeeeeeee.” When you finally got to your condo, you changed into some booty shorts and a tank top and laid in bed with your cheesecake and your laptop opened to Hulu. You put Family Guy but barely paid attention. You were too busy eating your cheesecake and scrolling through pictures of you and him. Him was your ex, T’Challa. It’s been a couple of weeks since you broke up with him and hopped on a plane back to America. Your girls called you crazy for breaking up with a king but they didn’t understand that his status was not enough reason to stay in a relationship where you felt like you were that person’s last priority. You understood that he was a king that had an responsibility to his people and his country but you felt like he neglected his responsibility to you. “T’Challa!” You shouted as you walked throughout the huge palace. You sighed out of frustration as you busted your ass looking for your M.I.A. boyfriend. Once again, you set up a romantic date for the two of y’all but of course something came up again. You had hopes that he would be able to make it but they were crushed when Okoye, general of the Dora Milage, approached you with a despondent look on her face. You knew he was cancelling again. You’ve barely been able to spend time with him and it was pissing you off. Yes there some days you guys were able to get a makeout session in or sleep together but not to be crude but you haven’t had his dick inside you in a long time. It wasn’t just lack of sex though. It was also lack of attention. When you guys were finally together, you weren’t together. His mind was somewhere else and you were finally going to confront him for it. “Ayo, have you seen T’Challa?” You questioned groaning out of exasperation in front of the Dora. Ayo saluted you. “Lady Y/N, he is in his office.” You saluted her back thanking you and continued on your journey to T’Challa. You finally landed in front of his office doors and pushed them open. T’Challa glanced up at you with those big brown eyes you first noticed when you first met him. You wanted to melt but you were full of anger. “T’Challa, what is it with you?! Everytime I try to spend some damn time with you, you keep blowing me off! I get it. Being a king is a lot of work and responsibility but damn it, you owe some responsibility to me! I’m your girlfriend!” You slammed you feet then crossed your arms looking him up and down with attitude. “Or am I?” T’Challa had gotten up quickly to shut the door during your rant and turned to you when you finished with frustrated eyes. “Are you mad?! Coming into my office screaming at me with my staff right outside in the hall. You see me occupied here! Have you lost your mind, woman?!” He yelled back stepping up to you. You didn’t step down. You were keeping the same energy. You built this anger over time and it was about time you released it. You laughed sarcastically shaking your head. “No but I feel like I’m losing my man.” T’Challa put his head down and sighed out of annoyance. He pinched the bridge of his broad nose. He was tired of this same argument but so were you. “Why do you have to keep doing this to me, Y/N? I am trying!” T’Challa pleaded causing you to snort in response. “Do you not see my attempts?” “Barely! Your attempts are half assed and you know it!” You leaned back crossing your arms and your voice got low. “Is there someone else?” T’Challa slammed his fists on the wall which had you a little shook but you held your ground. His nostrils flared as he fumed with anger. If there was one way to set the normally calm king off, it was to accuse him of infidelity. You couldn’t help it. You’ve been cheated on before and work was always a cover up. How were you supposed to know it wasn’t happening again? “You know damn well- why would you even ask that?!” You shot back. “Because I’m not even sure of my position in your life, T’Challa! You say I’m your queen, your love, but I don’t see it! I mean do you even love me anymore? Just let me know if someone else took my place so I can stop wasting my time!” You finally released the tears that has been building up in your eyes. T’Challa finally spoke after staying quiet for a while. “I would never cheat on you and you know that. I keep trying and trying but nothing I do is enough for you. I do not know what to do. I feel like you are asking me to choose between you and my country.” You gasped through your cries. “God! Are you even listening?! I could never ask you to choose but I see where your priorities lie. I’m just a mere distraction to you.” You shook your head and breathed. “I’ll just pack my stuff and be on the first plane back to America.” T’Challa’s eyes grew and he moved at rapid speed to prevent you from leaving. You refused to look at him as you saw the young king get on his knees holding on to you for dear life. “Please, sithandwa sam, I will do anything. Do not leave me. I can’t do all this without you.” He stared up at you with begging eyes. You swallowed hard as more tears fell down your face. You gently pushed him off you and stepped back. “You already have been doing all this without me.” You shuddered at the memory. That was the last words you heard from him and the last words you spoke to him. After that argument, you quickly packed up your belongings and went back to your home in New York. Okoye contacted you to find out if you landed safely. You knew it was because T’Challa wanted to know but didn’t have the courage to directly contact you. The memory still agonizes you as you began weeping on top of your half eaten cheesecake. You lost your appetite causing you to throw the dessert in the trash and crawled back into bed to resume your crying fit. At that moment, you realized you made a terrible mistake and let a good man go. “Baby girl, it’s been 2 weeks and you’re still crying over this man. That dick must’ve been made of gold and had you squirting like a water gun.” Your older sister Kimara tried to joke while rubbing your back. She had used the key you gave her to your apartment to come check on you and found you in fetal position crying your eyes out once again. You side eyed her adjusting your body pillow. “That’s not funny, Mar. I still love the fuck out of his ass. Now that I’m looking back at it, the free time he did have, he spent it with me. My selfish ass kept asking for more. Feeling like it wasn’t good enough. I should’ve been more understanding.” You hit your forehead. “Fuck! I’m such a dumb, selfish bitch!” Your sister stopped your physical and verbal attack on yourself. “Hey. Stop that. Yeah, you are a bitch.” “Wow, Kimara.” You responded dryly. She ignored you and continued. “You are a bitch but you’re also a human being. You had every right to feel that way. I know you. You were never clingy so if you felt like you weren’t getting enough from him, then you most likely weren’t. But he was a good man. You could’ve worked it out. Communication and understanding is key to healthy relationships.” “Ok, Dr. Phil.” You cracked a smile and Kimara laughed at your joke, happy to see you in a better mood. “Yeah yeah yeah. I know what I’m talking about. That’s why I’ve been happily married for 3 years.” She flashed her ring and grabbed your hand. “But seriously. Stop wallowing in self pity. It’s not good. If you and T’Challa were meant to be, it’ll happen. If you love something, let it go and if it comes back, it’s yours. And other cliché bullshit that has been proven to be true.” You smirked pulling your sister in a tight hug. “Thanks sis. I love you.” “I love you too.” You two pulled from the hug and the TV brought both of your attentions with a huge headline saying “King T’Challa of Wakanda arrives to New York City for annual Met Gala.” You saw footage of T’Challa walking the streets with the Dora Milage behind him. Met Gala. You remembered you received an invitation to Met Gala since you were dating the king. Thank God T’Challa specifically told them to give you a separate invite just in case you wanted to bring one of your friends. You beamed at the television screen and your sister looked back at you. “Well, girl. That’s your sign. Question is, what you gonna do it?” You wiped your face and smirked glancing towards your closet and back at her. “I’m going to get my man back.” *************** “Thanks for escorting me, Jason.” You whispered to your longtime friend as you grasped his large bicep. You walked slowly to make sure you didn’t step on your large white and golden ball gown. You hated the large dresses but looked forward to this gala because you knew this would be the day you had T’Challa all to yourself. Unfortunately, you weren’t on his arm. Jason has the same height as him and almost the same build but he wasn’t him. Jason was lightskin and you missed your chocolate man. “No problem. I always wanted to go to these fancy ass events and find a sexy ass celebrity shorty to pipe.” When you rolled your eyes and scoffed, he cleared his throat looking at you sheepishly. “Oh and to also help my dear friend Y/N get her African nigga back.” You laughed his antics hitting his chest. Jason was a whole clown but you still loved him like a brother. You turned your head and saw T’Challa staring straight at you. He had a sour look on his face and you cursed realizing what this looked like. Did he honestly think you would show up at a event with a new boyfriend knowing he would be here? You still smiled and made your way towards him. “T’Challa! Can we-“ You were cut off by him leaving his spot quickly and to go and socialize with other people. You sighed deeply wanting to slap yourself but you still continued after him. You were blocked by Okoye who had a stern look on her face. “Okoye! Nice to see you! Please let me talk to T’Challa.” You tried to move past her but she stayed in her place. “I can not allow that, Y/N. He does not want to see you.” Her stern face dropped when hurt came on your face. She looked sad instead. “You have hurt my king too many times, Y/N. I really like you but my job is to protect the king. That involves his heart as well.” “I’m hurting too, Okoye. These past two weeks, I’ve been crying my ass off realizing I made a huge mistake leaving him. I just need to talk to him.” Okoye sighed in exasperation shaking her head. “Please just leave him alone.” You looked down feeling your heart break even more but you weren’t going to cry especially with this expensive ass make up on your face. You felt stupid. Why the hell did you think T’Challa would want to talk to you after you looked him in the eyes and broke his heart? Just when you thought about giving up, you didn’t. You picked your head up and stood up to the general. “Okoye, I’m not gonna tell you again. Let me see T’Challa. I love him and I need to fix the mess I made. I will find a way to him. I lost him once and I’m not losing him again so move out of my way.” You commanded with eyes that dared her to deny you again. A tiny smile came across her face. “I knew you were fit to be a queen. Well, I am just going to look to my right side and not see you walk past me on my left.” Okoye looked to her right causing you to smile and move past her while whispering a “thank you.” Shockingly, you spotted T’Challa by himself going towards the men’s room. You moved as quickly as your heels allowed you and you grabbed his wrist pushing him into the women’s room. You locked the door behind you and tilted your head to see if there were any feet in the stalls. There was nobody here so you were free to talk. “What is the meaning of this? I do not have time for your ridiculousness! I am leav-“ “T’Challa, shut up and let me talk.” You rested your back against the door and you had pleading eyes. “Please.” T’Challa crosses his arms narrowing his eyes at you. “And why should I? You left me. You are my heart, Y/N and you just left me. You come here with that watered down black man as your date knowing I would be here and now you have the audacity to ask me to talk to you?!” You sighed trying your hardest not to laugh at him calling your friend a watered down black man. It was fucked up but funny. However this wasn’t the right moment to laugh in his face. “We’re not romantically involved, T’Challa. That’s my friend Jason. You’ve met him. I just brought him because he’s trying to get with Nicki Minaj. There’s a slim ass chance of that but I’m going to let him rock.” You shrugged your shoulders and glanced back at him. He seemed convinced so you continued. “You’re the only man I want. You gotta believe that.” “I remember meeting him now but I need to know. Since you have left me, have you seen anyone else?” T’Challa questioned walking slowly towards you. You bit your lip feeling defeat coming soon. “To get over you, I’ve been on a couple blind dates but they didn’t work out because I’m still in love with you!” T’Challa scoffed loudly making his way towards the door. “Move aside.” “No!” You roared and he stepped back looking away from you. “Don’t turn away from me. I’m pouring out my heart to you!” His eyes finally landed on you and you sighed backing off the door. “You own my heart. All this time, we’ve been together, my heart has been yours. I was so hellbent on me barely seeing you that I didn’t realize there was something even worse than that. Me not seeing you at all.” You sighed walking up to him and taking his broad hands in your smaller ones. “It took me sleeping alone to realize how much I missed your presence, how much I missed your touch, how I missed your morning kisses even though sometimes you didn’t brush your teeth yet so that morning breath was deadly.” T’Challa let out a laugh as he interlocked his fingers with yours and you joined in. “I missed that loud laugh as well. I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have been so ungrateful and should be more understanding. You have a tough job and I didn’t make it any easier by leaving you.” He pulled into his arms and kissed your forehead gently. “Sithandwa sam, I must apologize as well. How do I have the audacity to call you my queen yet fail to treat you like one? I did some reflecting as well and I realized that my attempts were “half assed” I could’ve done more. I did treat you as my last priority when you’re not at all.” “I know that, sithandwa sam.” You replied leaning up to place a passionate kiss on his lips and his hand gripped your waist moving down to your ass giving it a small squeeze and you giggled pulling away from the kiss wrapping your arms around his neck. “Look at you speaking my language fluently. One way we could see each other more is you being involved with my duties.” T’Challa kissed you again. “I missed you so much. Let’s go out there. I have something I need to do.” T’Challa left the restroom with you right by his side, holding his hand tightly. He went up to Okoye and whispered in her ear. She smiled at the two of you and placed something you didn’t see in his hand. He continued to bring you up the front of the large ballroom and grabbed the microphone. “Hello everyone. May I have your attention? There’s something I need to do that should’ve been done a long time ago.” Once T’Challa had everyone’s attention, he turned to you smiling. “Entle, I’ve been in love with you ever since I met you and you’ve always been mine but I can not keep calling you my queen without making it official.” T’Challa dropped down to one knee while the whole room filled with gasps and cooing. You covered your mouth in shock letting the tears of joy flow down your face. “Y/N, please marry me and be my queen.” He presented an ancient, beautiful gold diamond ring taking your left hand ready to place it on your ring finger. You nodded vigorously with a grin on your face. “Yes! Oh Bast! Yes!” The whole room cheered as T’Challa placed the ring on your finger and lifted himself from the floor to kiss you. He hugged you tightly putting his lips to your ears. “I would love to take my fiancée back to Wakanda with me. But first, I would like to make love to her endlessly tonight.” You giggled with your heart swelling with love and joy. You got your man back and you were now engaged to be married to him. Today went better for you than you had expected. “You will get to do that, my king. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life right by your side.” “Right by my side.” T’Challa stated pulling you back in for another kiss.

Tags: @iamrheaspeaks @chaneajoyyy @brianabreeze @dramaqueenamby @marvelpotterlove @purple-apricots @brattywriters-anonymous @cancerianprincess @blowmymbackout @ljstraightnochaser @blackpinup22 @airis-paris14 @vibranium-chakra @sociallyawkward18 @chefjessypooh @mychemicalimagines @nerd-lovely @slimmiyagi

Sorry if I missed anyone! I honestly just go through my notes and look to see who wanted to be tagged and the ones i remember. If your tag didn’t work, Please fix your settings! Love y’all!

twdg take us back thoughts (forgive me if any of this is out of order, i’m doing this from memory)

-the game took 10 minutes to download and those were a wild ten minutes i’ll tell you that -right off the bat i was worried clem was gonna get bit -i tried to shoot lilly at first, then i saw it didn’t work and wished her well. that’s just my s1 lilly fan’s final breaths of air right there -LOUIS SAVED MY LIFE THANK YOU I’M SORRY ABOUT YOUR TONGUE -god louis’s little smile though oOF -VI I LOVE YOU -THE OTHER KIDS ARE ALIVE -vIOLET INITIATED KISS!!!! (adding a read more bc this got LONG)

-uhhhh i’m pretty sure i’m not the only one who was left with some post-ep3 lilly vibes with minnie. like fuck u for expecting some kinda redemption arc with any character we are going to make them go Batshit the next episode -like i really thought we’d be able to help her or something when she was fighting off those walkers. i mean i get she was totally brainwashed but c’mon man. she’s a kid. but fuk that ig -walker james man. i sorta justified not going back and killing lilly last ep by saying this was what james would’ve wanted (also it’s my playthrough i do what i want), and now that i know what happens if you do save him uhhhhhhh.... i’m glad i made the choices i did tbh! it’s what james would’ve wanted. -i spent so long in that cave looking for “something to light on fire” -i decided to trust aj. i figured a) that could possibly save my life (it didn’t lol), b) it would make him feel good about himself, and c) i’ve taught him pretty well up to now so i trust him. -MEETING UP WITH VIOLET AND OUR LITTLE FAMILY HUG WOW CAN I JUST SAY THAT SHIT’S THE GOOD SHIT -i low key wish i’d named the school castle violet, but i figured it was more important to give her the choice. texas two squad, gang gang -fighting minnie on the bridge i was thinking ‘ok minnie’s gonna get a lot of shit for this lol’ -speaking of Bridge Scene, that shit was INTENSE if nothing else -like SHIT -when minnie cut me, i thought ‘oh fuuck, something’s gonna bite that’ -i also thought ‘hey clem’s gonna have a big leg scar to match her big arm scar’ but i was wrong about that lmao -i’ve never been more stressed that someone was gonna bite me than in this ep lmao -i also thought the scene from the trailer where you try to grab aj’s hand was gonna be here on the bridge, not on the rocks -oof when tenn died i was upset, but i feel more secure in that than if it were violet who died. only because that was tenn’s choice, and tenn was another person, like james, who had seemed to make peace with the walkers in a way. plus he died with his sister, which seemed to be what they both wanted at the time. that’s not so say that i wish i could’ve saved him without killing vi (or louis), but i do feel satisfied with what i got here (rip tennessee, you were a cool kid) -and then vi jumps over a fence ok bye violet -climbing up the rocks, i knew this was when it was gonna happen. but still. i cried lol -when i uncovered the bite, i was reminded of the s2 game mechanics. oof -as soon as she was bitten i said ‘you have an axe! cut it off now! do it!’ and when they didn’t i died -the next bit was reminiscent of lee making his way to the marsh house in s1 -actually, clem’s limp reminded me of a new day when lee got into that car crash lol -and when clem and aj were closing the doors to the barn and clem said to get something to block the door, i was expecting her to continue and say something like ‘something strong and sturdy’ like lee said when they were blocking off the pharmacy in s1 bc that scene gave me strong pharmacy vibes -and then strong jewelry shop vibes bc why tf not -playing as aj. that was rough. he’s FAST tho oml -that was when i went ‘ok so clem is dying for real’ and cried a lil bit more cuz you know me -switching between clem and aj. DUDE that got me so emotional -also aj using clem’s trick (that used to be jane’s trick). GO KIDDO -seeing clem looking more and more dead fuckt me up (like how did she get from that to the end of the ep i don’t get it. like even if it was because she waited shorter to cut it off or because it was her leg rather than her arm or what. it doesn’t matter because by the time lee looked like THAT his arm was (determinantly) long gone. but hey, not gonna analyze it too much lol i’m just glad my girl clem’s alive) -okay when clem was talking to aj that also got me crying -and when i told aj to leave clem, i was thinking ‘okay, maybe she’ll link up with james. or tenn, but like hopefully not minnie at this point. and lEE maybe she’ll find lee. or luke. or her parents-’ -and then he picks up that ax and i was like ‘woa ok did you just kill her??’ -and then the flashback. lemme be real and say i thought that was the afterlife or something, and that those floaty specks were Afterlife Dust -but then i remembered ‘oh right the ranch’ -lemme just say i didn’t think the ranch was gonna look like that lol -not 100 percent on what was going on at the ranch tbh -like who were those people and why did we kill all of them? one would assume that clem would first try to get aj back peacefully -oh wait they were at war right -also i really liked the design of like all of those people -and the LAVA GUY HOLY SHIT -obviously i mercy killed him -also wait, was clem with the people they were fighting? i couldn’t tell -ALSO also, was. was that eddie? from 400 days? checking the wiki real quick -yea i think that was him. rip eddie you didn’t deserve That. i mean i was happy he was back nd then we were just forced to kill him oof sorry man -felt bad about killing that woman also, but hey, she had aj in a tiny locker, so i didn’t feel super bad about it after finding him -also lemme just say -little kid aj?? -SUPER CUTE OML -he’s like the perfect mix of anf aj’s face and tfs aj’s face. kudos to whoever designed little aj -also when clem was talking with him in the car. i felt like it was sort of unrealistic little kid talk, but not so much that it distracted from anything going on -never go alone god rule number one had me crying -and then we’re aj fishing! -i didn’t catch any fish as aj lol -also i LOVE how they changed the dialogue options for aj to be a lot more childlike if that makes sense? like fuck yeah that was a really nice call -ROSIE IM SO GLAD YOU’RE OK -i didn’t scratch out the v+m heart because it’s history, and it’s not mine to scratch out. same reason i didn’t make clem spit on marlon’s grave -CLEM’S HAT GET IT -GET IT GET IT -OH GOOD GIRL ROSIE YOU’RE A GOD -oh a walker -oH THAT’S A TENN WALKER SHIT -well i’m not gonna kill him Again -also i don’t want the other kids to have to see him -i was so glad when i got the option to throw the rock -he learned from james what a good boy -RUBY HI -god ruby’s the best lmao -my thoughts when they’re talking about the hat ‘...aj hasn’t put it on... they haven’t talked about clem in the past tense.... is she.... possibly.... not dead?’ -lmao and when the next scene started, the trees + sky reminded me of the st john’s dairy and i wondered if we had another lee dream or afterlife or something but nope -is this take us back?? -hOLY SHIT IT’S TAKE US BACK!!! -okay and walking home, seeing everyone. god i was so sjfsakjfa there -like when i saw aasim run up to ruby i was all !!! and when they held hands i was all !!!!!!!!! yknow?? and then when i saw omar and WILLY and then on the gate there was VIOLET (i was so glad she was ok lmao the last thing i wanted for my girl was an offscreen death) god that was so good with the music i was crying a little again -need to make another bullet to stress how happy i am for ruby and aasim. like i would’ve been happy either way but they were portrayed as such a cute couple in the few seconds we got of them, so like. consider me a fan now i guess -i was worried for louis at first cuz i didn’t see him -i thought maybe this was the end of the game because we closed the gate and stuff and i was thinking ‘oh, like closing the story’ but NOPE -sup omar. up and cooking again i see -lmao my sleep-deprived brain found it hilarious that we just put the empty bucket down next to him -uhh what came next the graves or clem?? i forget -WAIT IT WAS THE GRAVES BECAUSE THE TIRE SWING WHICH IS SO CUTE AHH -well tenn’s grave made me :( but then CLEM -so glad my hunch that she was alive was right lmao -but also i thought that was determinant it was a lot less satisfying when you realize that no matter what she lives -i mean i get why they did it like that, they didn’t want anyone feeling left with the “bad ending”, their thing is that their games are tailored to how you play and there IS no bad ending but still. a little variation on that front would’ve made it a lil more satisfying -also where did they get those crutches -i love talking as aj. so much. -he’s just a funky lil guy! -that convo with clem on the steps, when she asked if she did a good job... like FUCK YEAH you did a good job, I’M YOU, you think i’m not happy with how i raised me?? -aj saying ‘are you crazy’ when clem asked that made me smile -okay i know ppl have been saying this. but. siblings aasim and willy rule. -and then the meal!! -i was super hoping for a card game but what we good was good. not great, but good. also, card game as aj would probably not be quite as fun. or it’d be very fun. honestly, it’d probably just be a different kind of fun. -when we panned over the table i saw a flash of louis and i went all ‘louis!!’ in my head -louis’s little note sadfasf that was so cute -and honestly everything about louis in this scene i love you louis -actually, just this whole scene was cute. willy and omar were adorable, and then ruby, and willy asking for seconds, and everyone just being Soft in general like. yall deserve this happiness -vi and clem talking Strategy dude sign me up -i love how clem trusts aj now. and i trust aj too tbh, a lot more than i did initially. i think i taught him pretty well. -violet and aj duo let’s go -slightly worried abt that caravan that was mentioned, but hey. the game left off on a high note, so NOTHING BAD CAN HAPPEN TO THEM EVER. YOU HEAR THAT?? -vIOLET INITIATED KISS PART TWO!!!!!! CHEEK KISS EDITION!!!!!!!! IM SOFT!!!!!!!!!! -okay that hallway with the snb team’s names all over the walls?? dude oof. they worked so hard it made me so happy to see their mark on texas two -haha texas two -ANYWAY -obviously i looked at all the collectibles i had, AND pet rosie, because i knew that when i ran out of things to do, the game would be over, and who wants that? -aj: *places human skull* *looks at animal skull* wow clem really likes skulls -kiddo i hate to break it to you but -seems like you’re taking after her in that regard -good girl rosie -lmao aj and his magic powers -it’s like louis in a box -hanging up james’ walker mask made me :(( -he is watching over you aj. and he would like that -ok guys i am BEGGING you. if you haven’t already, PLEASE repeatedly click disco broccoli until you can’t anymore. it’s great. -and then i finally had to put down the hat -”thank you for playing” GOD THANK YOU FOR HAVING ME -I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS SERIES IS OVER -I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M SAYING GOODBYE TO CLEM -i mean i still have my louis route BUT IT’S NOT THE SAME AS A FRESH EPISODE YKNOW?? OKAY FINAL THOUGHTS: -FIRST OFF I JUST FOUND OUT VI CAN GO BLIND -honestly im in favor of that i rly like blind violet au and now it’s not au -rip her eye honestly -new tag to match my rip louis’ tongue -also i left violet feeling loved FUCK yea i did i love violet -OKAY ACTUAL THOUGHTS -looking at this episode afterwards, is it just me or is it a little... lacking? like, a little off? i mean obviously it’s good in the moment, super intense, but there were just a few things that make me feel like it’s the weakest of the season -also lmao i guess fuck minnie james and lilly, their storylines all felt kinda like a middle finger to their fans if that makes sense -but holy shit was that minnie stuff haunting. like HOLY SHIT -also, for a game that’s been focused a lot around clem’s interactions with the other characters, there was a lot... less of that in this episode. no card game, barely any interaction with anyone other than louis/violet, tenn, minnie, aj, and james. and two of those people are fighting you. one of them is even determinant. i was just expecting a little more on that front, because this season’s been really good with that sorta thing -also i would’ve loved a little more time with violet/louis. but that’s just a personal thing and not necessarily a problem lol -again, i feel like it would’ve been a little more satisfying for clem to survive if there were an option where she didn’t. but again again, i totally get why they didn’t go that route -in that vein, i’d really enjoy a little more time with the person who wasn’t on the bridge with you. i miss my boy louis :( -idk there’s just something a little off about this episode. -that’s not to say i didn’t love it (because i TOTALLY did just look at all that stuff above haha) -like i know i didn’t love the minnie part, but like i said, that shit was INTENSE -i can sorta see why they went that route -and i can’t speak for living!james but walker!james was oddly peaceful to see. like, there was a feeling of ‘this is what he would’ve wanted’ -and okay i loved the violet initiated kisses. so much. -also ruby and aasim that was pretty cute -and obviously im happy clem isn’t dead that’s always great -OH and i loved the scene with the snb team’s names on the walls. like that was so good. -finally, the end scene was so satisfying. it ended the series the right way. with clem’s hat :p

RdR2: Doubts And Scars Chapter Eight

/Katherine's P.O.V/

"Do we have to rescue Micah?"

"Unfortunately."

"What if we just wait around for a while, watch the hanging, and just tell Dutch they moved it up?"

"Katherine!"

"Whaaat? It's an idea!"

Dad shook his head at my comment, but he couldn't hide a smile. I sighed as we rode into Strawberry, and up to the jail. We hitched Black Rose and Splash, and Dad knocked on the door. The deputy opened the door and nodded at us.

"Yeah?"

"Hello, Sir. We've come from Blackwater. My daughter and I are on the trail of a dangerous gang; Colm O'Driscoll. Heard y'all have had some sort of incident."

"We don't deal with Bounty Hunters 'round these parts, son." The sheriff told him, and I rolled my eyes. Of course they didn't.

"Can we at least get a description?" Dad asked and he turned towards us.

"Well, they weren't friends. They got into a fight, two of them got killed. Now, one of 'ems an idiot and they others some kind of dumb mick, so maybe them's your boys. You can look right enough. When we hang 'em." The two guards stood on either side of us and I sighed. Very well.

"Thank you." Dad told them and we walked outside, where it was just starting to rain.

"Now what?" I asked, hands in my pockets.

"Let me outta here you maggots! You think these bars can hold me?! You hear me?! My boys are coming for me! And when they do, we'll throw this hick town to the ground!"

I pointed to the side of the jail and walked towards it. "Found him." I said as Dad followed me, shaking his head.

"Katherine! Arthur!" Micah exclaimed in relief as we got close.

"Hello old friend. Had a good time, did you?" Dad asked and I smirked, pleased with his response. Micah half-laughed at his 'joke'

"You gonna get me outta here?" He asked as Dad leaned against the wall.

"I ain't decided yet." He told him and I smiled as Micah glared at him.

"Real funny."

"Oh, I ain't joking, cowpoke. I heard so much bluster outta your mouth these last six months; and now I gotta an opportunity to watch you be silenced." I scoffed lightly at Micah's shock. You can't blame him, really. Micah's nothing but a snake, a rat, and a goddamn menace. I'd be a dream to see him hang.

"Well, you gotta do something!" Micah pleaded as Dad looked him dead in the eye.

"Why?" Dad asked, all seriousness.

"Yes, why Micah?" I asked, with a smirk.

"I've always looked up to your father, Katherine." I scoffed at his response.

"What's to look up to?! He kills people because they don't give the answers he wanted, and he has a failed love life! No offence." I murmured the last part, and Dad eyed me.

"None taken," He sighed, shaking his head. "God forbid. She does have a point, that's your first mistake. Listen, there's one little problem. There's three of us and a town full of people. Wanting to see you swing."

"You gotta do something, Arthur!" Micah pleaded and Dad shook his head, taking out a stick of dynamite and stuck it on the wall.

"You may wanna step back a bit." He lit it and we ran back about twenty feet. I covered my ears and the stick blew. Now alerting more than half the town. Awesome. Wow.

Dad handed him one of his guns as I ran ahead "Let's get outta here, come on!" I turned around to see if he was following us, and he shot the guy who was in the cell with him!

"What the fuck, Micah?!" I screamed, hiding behind a rock.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?" Dad screamed, looking back at him.

"He was an O'Driscoll!" Micah told us and I rolled my eyes in response.

I shook my head as we shot the guys that were cornering us at the police station. Once the path was clear, Micah went right instead of left. Did you get that? He went right at the bridge instead of left, which was our way out of here. Fucking asshole. I breathed in and sighed.

"I swear to God…." I shot four people in front of Micah and smacked him in the head in the process. Win-win. "Micah! We have to get outta here now!" I yelled at him, not wanting to die in Strawberry.

"I got some unfished business to take care of! Trust me, Kat!" He told me and I bit my tongue.

"It's Katherine to you!" I yelled back. Only my friends get to call me Kat.

"Trust you?! You have finally lost your goddamn mind! We should be long gone by now!" Dad backed me up.

"They got something of mine I ain't leaving without!" Micah yelled back.

Are you fucking joking me?! Risking our lives for something of Micah's?! Give me a goddamn break.

We had killed off a good lot of them when Micah went into this house, calling for someone named Skinny. I heard a scream and two gunshots….. Goddamnit Micah. He finally came out and I shook my head.

"They had something of mine. My guns." I furred my eyebrows in anger.

"So you killed two people for your goddamn guns?!" I yelled and he smirked evilly.

"I showed them…. And I'll show the rest of this town!" He ran ahead of us and I half-laughed in disbelief.

"You have really lost it this time." Dad told him, running ahead and shooting more people.

We finally got to the horses and we ran off. Shooting some lawmen who were behind us.

"Okay! I think that's the last of them. let's get moving, before any more get on our tail. I'll hand it to you two, the Morgan Legacy sure can shoot like hell!" Micah complimented, but I ignored him. I'm not liking him as of right now.

"Micah, what the hell was that?! You almost got us killed! Let me tell you, you wouldn't catch me doing that! You're insane! What's Dutch gonna think?! Killing innocents like that?! Are you fucking crazy?!" I went on as he listened to my mindless blabber, probably just waiting for me to finish.

"Are you done?" He asked me, finally and I took a few deep breaths and I slowly nodded.

"Yeah. I'm done." I confirmed and he smirked, looking at my father.

"You're lucky Dutch has your back, for some unknown reason." Dad commented with a shake of his head.

"I think, we finally lost 'em." Micah stated, holding Baylock back.

"I hope so." Dad looked around, as if to make sure there was nobody behind us.

"I'm giving you a holster. My way of saying thank you." Micah handed over this holster and Dad smiled, but it was a sarcastic smile.

"And thank you! There I was, having a dull day, only for you, to liven it up by helping you shoot up half the town!" Dad exclaimed, not having any of Micah's shit.

"You're a funny feller, Arthur. Real funny. Why you act all sour all the time-" Micah started, but Dad interrupted him.

"Yeah, well you ain't funny at all, so why you gotta act like the court jester?!" Dad yelled with a shake of his head.

"Okay, listen. I'm sorry, but we're family now, Arthur. You and me. sons of Dutch. Makes us brothers. Sometimes, brothers make mistakes." I shook my head at that but sighed. He has a point. "I'm heading back to my little camp 'round back at Strawberry. Come see me. maybe I can make things up to you."

"You ain't coming back to Dutch?" Dad asked and Micah shook his head 'no'

"No, I've been a bad boy, Arthur. I ain't seeing Dutch 'till I can bring him a peace offering." Baylock reared slightly, being the stallion that he is, but Micah calmed him down. "Bye now."

I scoffed as he rode off. I've really had enough of his shit.

"Go back to camp. I have some stuff to take care of." Dad told me and I nodded, easing Black Rose into an easy canter.

What the hell was Micah thinking?! Shooting up most of the town?! Some for no good reason at all! God forbid, I don't understand why Pawpaw has his back. Bubba sure doesn't.

I finally got back to camp, and I hitched Black Rose to a hitching post, and walked into camp.

Looking over at my father's tent, I noticed a letter. Growing curious, I looked around to see if anyone else was looking, I walked over to it and read it.

Dear Arthur,

I've written this letter a hundred times or more and I cannot get it right. It's me. You know it's me from the bad handwriting. I know I said when last we spoke and I was going off to get married, that we would not speak again. I know I said a lot of things and I meant them, I suppose, at the time, but I am not so proud as to not speak to people who care for me or cared for me.

I've been in Valentine for a couple of months. I had some bad luck and, well, it's a long story and not an interesting one, but I am here for now. I saw a couple of the girls, or whatever the polite term for them is, that ran with you and your associates in town and I heard tell of a man who sounded like you. I would love to see you again, if you could spare me a little bit of your time. I'm renting a room at Chadwick Farm, just north of Valentine.

Yours,

Mary Linton

I shook as I read the name…. No….. Shakily, I put the letter down and walked away. I literally ran into Javier, sending us both down.

"My apologies, Señorita. Are you alright?" Javier asked, I looked at him, tears in my eyes and I shook my head 'no' he helped me up and he walked with me just outside of camp. "What's the matter, Mi Amour?"

I paused and took a breath, looking Javier in the eye.

"My mother. My mother is in Valentine."

As soon as I said those words, Javier wrapped me in his arms and I just cried. One of the very few times I've shown emotion, and I just couldn't control it no more. Mary Linton, my mother….. Was in Valentine. And she wanted to see my father.

What more could she want after giving me up?

A New Lease on Life - #59

         WELL. It's been about a donkey's age since I've been able to update this. Normally I'd apologize for the wait…but…well, honestly, I've been beating myself up enough as it is and it's not like it happened out of the blue. Kinda-brief update for anyone wondering:            I've warned about an impending grief hiatus since my uncle Bob's cancer diagnosis, and the hiatus came to pass in December. Uncle Bob finally lost his fight to cancer after two years of treatment and fading. The end came on rather suddenly but after the deathwatch he went peacefully and without pain. His death really messed me up, especially since I was already suffering from depression. Our first Christmas without Bob was also our last Christmas with Granny Chance, his mother and my grandmother…she suffered a massive stroke in January and died soon afterward. In the space of a month, my family and I lost two members, one right after the other. In a word, the whole situation has been FUCKED and it's still not completely over. There are good days, and bad days…and, to quote a certain Del Toro film, "Then there are the really bad days." Between those, we're all slowly working our way through the fallout and healing process.            This chapter is the first I've been able to finish since SEPTEMBER, largely because all of my stories are currently in plot-required angsty-dramatic phases and I CANNOT WRITE SAD SCENES when I'm depressed. It's entirely IMPOSSIBLE, they always come out farcical or they just don't flow. It SUCKS. TBH, I don't know for certain if I'm going to be able to catch up to my previous writing abilities or pace anytime soon but I'm certainly going to try. Also, quick note if you're reading this on Tumblr – they recently enacted a WORDBLOCK LIMIT on text posts of 100 blocks. Yeah. We're now limited to 100 paragraphs including the title. If the chapter's low dialogue and has no notes, that's fine, but if not? Well, we're just screwed because THIS ONE ran 86 ¶s WITHOUT the notes, glossary, and pre-story stuffs. I'm not sure yet how I'll be handling that limit for good, whether that means posting links to sites without the bullshit limits, posting long chapters in pieces, or linking to the separate posts with the notes and glossary, but I'll figure it out in time. For now, I’ll be including the NOTES at the end and you can find the GLOSSARY at FFnet or AO3.  Check out Spotify for a playlist centered on this arc - features suggested listening for this chapter and the next few, and much, much more.         Lastly, I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone for their patience and understanding, and give a shout-out to some wonderful people who've made this new chapter possible. This chapter is dedicated to Wolf, Newt, and Ihlni for their invaluable support and kind words – to my hubby Cold for letting me ugly-cry on him without complaint and never failing to remind me that life has to go on – to my ma-in-law for teasing me about earning a nasty hangover instead of acknowledging that I looked like death-on-the-rocks and was obviously crying before I answered the door – to my mother for being a bloody SAINT and to my father for intentionally being an asshole when someone to fight with was just what I needed – to Wanda Farmer on AO3 and vbt22220 on FFnet for their encouragement in reviews, the folks on Tumblr who offered kind words when I needed them most, and to all you wonderful people who've stuck by me, read my stories, and are still reading after all this time. Above all, though, this chapter is dedicated to the memory of Granny Chance and Uncle Bob – may they ever rest in peace.

Suggested Listening: Fuel "Hemorrhage [In My Hands]," Paramore "The Only Exception," Prince "Purple Rain," Survivor "I Never Stopped Loving You" 

 59: A Matter of Honor

The Lair, November 19th - around noon

Donatello wasn't known for being a fool; regardless, he felt rather foolish anytime the obvious failed to register until it was staring him in the face. This was just such a time. He didn't recall sequestering himself in the lab much less falling asleep at his workbench, but the proof was self-evident: a crick in his neck, a strand of insulated wire still stuck to his drool-sticky cheek, and sweat-smeared glasses half off his face. It took a moment of tired lip-smacking and searching to comprehend the facts—ah, right, he pulled an all-nighter to complete the vital signs monitor for Kimber's visit. From what he could see, the device was, indeed, completed. Too tired to consider the absurd picture he must make, he peeled the wire trimming off his cheek and set it aside.

What woke him? He searched his memory, found nothing, then turned to more closely examine his surroundings. A plate of now-cold PopTarts and a cup of coffee (helpfully covered with a cracked saucer) waited a safe distance from his elbow. Right - it was Saturday. This time last year he easily lost track of the days between all-nighters and the sleeping-binges that always followed them. Now he had a weekly reminder in the form of too-sweet coffee and half-burned pastries, courtesy of the confusing woman whose scent still clung to his skin. How blessed he felt in this moment…

The moment ended with a familiar sound—a sleep-slurred phrase he could recognize anywhere but never quite understood. Ya been away too long he got, and he recognized the terms sook, e'en, and nip though he wasn't fully certain of their context.* Beyond that the half-Celt tucked into the cot may as well have been speaking Greek for all he knew. The oft-repeated tease fell short in a particularly nasal snore. Donnie hoisted himself out of his chair with a chorus of protesting joints and slowly rounded the workbench. Silently, he regarded his sleeping woman, soaking in all the silly little details that caught his eyes—the freckles spattered across her skin, the flash of faded ink peeking up over her drooping neckline, the stubborn silver cowlicks sticking up at odd angles from her loosely bound hair—anything to remind himself she was still alive.

He shook his head in weary defeat. A full week after their desperate flight from Willsdale and every time he woke he still half-expected to find Amber cold to the touch, lifeless and painted in blood. Perhaps, he considered as he gathered her in his arms and made his way to their bedroom, this was one scar which would only be healed with time. Perhaps, he considered as he lay her across the neatly tucked quilt and curled up behind her, he could only conquer his fear of Amber's death by focusing on her life. Even as he tugged her flush against his plastron and groin and nuzzled into her neck, he couldn't erase the memory of her: bruised, bloody, and broken, and rapidly fading in his arms. He shuddered and sucked in a steadying breath of her scent.

She wasn't dead, she was alive now…it was enough…right?

Red Fern Florist, Noon

Normally, Red Fern Florist was a calm place – a quiet and classy establishment that just so happened to be run by people who didn't care about being quiet or classy. This, alas, was not a normal day, not even in the slightest.

Abilene Whitaker manned the register, eyes focused somewhere beyond the neon-streaked pages of her textbook and not registering a word. The backroom echoed with near-constant racket—crashes, curses, objects falling or being thrown… Abby sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose, and dragged herself off of the barstool to investigate. Sure enough, Mercy was stocking the shelves a tad too roughly…if by roughly one meant throwing the bags of supplies around like a spandex-clad steroid junkie at a WWE grudge-match smackdown.

"Alright, that's enough," Abby snapped at her blonde subordinate; Mercy froze, embarrassed grey-blue eyes meeting Abby's over a lean, hunched shoulder. "You've been stomping around and slamming things all afternoon. What on earth could be so horrible you've gotta torture the mulch?" Mercy cringed, fixing guilty eyes on the bag of mulch in her grip. Caught. "Well?" The blonde uttered a sound halfway between a groan and a growl, snorted, then slid the bag onto its shelf with more care than necessary.

"My man's ex is comin' by tonight," she admitted under her breath. "She's stayin' a few days."~

"WHAT?!" Abby squawked in protest. "He's bringing his ex over?! Aw, Hell naw! Girl, you drop that boy before I find him and punch him in the man-fritters!" Man-fritters?** Mercy couldn't help it – she sniggered at the visual – but her laughter faded into regret when she registered the rest of Abby's threat.

"No can do," she sighed, "it's kinda unavoidable." Abby crossed her arms, scrunched her lips into an almost exact replica of Leo's 'pissy leader pout,' and waited for an explanation. Mercy rolled her eyes, spearing her fingers into her hair and yanking. "Kimber…well, she's like me an' Amber," she explained under her breath. "Remember I told ya Amber…uh…went home for a few days? Well, she almost…um…didn't come back. Bitch-nipple's comin' over to see how long any of us can stay home without that happening. She invited herself, we voted, Raph lost, she won." Abby took a moment to let that sink in.

"Your guy tried to vote her off the island?" A grim nod from Mercy. "They broke up before she left, right?"

"…and she left before he an' I met," Mercy added even as she rolled her eyes.~ All the code-talk really got on her nerves but they had to be mindful of the security cameras. Abby leaned against the doorframe, lean shoulders at a sharp slant, and hazel eyes puzzled behind her fuchsia-streaked hair.

"You think she wants him back?" she asked quietly. "He won't…" She sucked in a nervous breath. "What if she tries to win him back?"

"You're kiddin', right?" Mercy scoffed. "He dumped her! He's been angsty as fuck over breakin' her heart, yeah, but I know'im—she could make all the moves she wants, he ain't gonna budge."~ Not to mention Kimber's still dead she added in her own head then shook it. After all, she was dead, too. The whole situation stank like a crappy soap opera. "I trust'im, Abbs," she added under her breath. "Raph chose me, not the Jersey-Devil-wannabe…jealousy's pointless when I already know the end result, an' that end result is he's with me."

Abby watched her a moment, scrutinizing and studying; just as suddenly as she issued the threat against Raph's genitals, she smiled. "You're a strong woman," the neon-haired clerk remarked lightly. "I ever heard one of Cherie's exes asking to stay, I'd bash the twat's teeth in. You need anything, you give me a call, alright?" Mercy nodded, halfway between a cringe and a grateful smile, and went back to the stocking. "So how are things going between you two, anyway?" Abby added taking up her share of the lifting. "You never bring him by, you never tell me much about him…how's he treating you?"

Mercy paused, brow furrowed, and scrambled for an answer that didn't make her sound like an absolute sap. She couldn't find one. "He makes me wanna listen to Faith Hill, watch him sleep, an' punch his ex in the teeth," she grumbled. The heat in her cheeks went nuclear at Abby's excited squeal.

"Oh-em-GEE!" the younger practically shrieked. "You love him!" Mercy shot her a sour glare.

"Woman," she groused, "shut yer ass – the bullshit's leakin' out."

The Lair, shortly after dusk   -   00:00:00  

Two weeks ago, Kimber Bryant faced down Leonardo and demanded the opportunity to make right the trouble she caused his family. Now she stood in the hallway, practically quaking in her mud-stained canvas sneakers, unsure how to proceed. It didn't exactly help that Leo was still glaring at her from behind and her other escort, Donatello, kept fiddling with the tablet strapped to his left forearm.

"Now remember, you've gotta keep the leads from getting tangled," the genius rambled without ever once looking at her. "A little perspiration shouldn't cause any unwanted interference—I insulated the outer casing well to deter any outside condensation or humidity finding its way into the monitor's internal components but there are limits." Kimber rolled her bottle green eyes over at Leo in hope of rescue from Donnie's babbling but received only a glare. "It's not fully water-tight," the genius continued with a shrug and 'meh' expression, still without even glancing her way, "so we'll need to cover it with a water-resistant dressing when it comes to bathing but other than that it—"

"Today, Donnie," Leo grumbled. The younger startled out of his thoughts, fingertips still poised on the holographic chart projected over his tech-tab. He blinked a few times in rapid succession as though refreshing his memory then turned to Kimber in question. From the looks of it, she seemed ready to chew her ankle off to escape the lecture. She really was so very different from Amber…how could they possibly be the same person underneath it all? Could a person's history and past choices really have that big an impact on their personality and attitude?

"Uh…right," he uttered with a wince. "Anyway, it's natural for your core temperature to fluctuate a certain amount over the day but if it drops too low, I'll get an alert. We may not have much time to get you back…so…" he trailed off in hopes she'd pick up the slack.

"Don't get comfy," she finished sourly. "Yeah, I got it. Git lawst."~ He crinkled his nose at her demand but said nothing; instead, he rolled his eyes in defeat and took off toward the lab.

"Remember our agreement," the eldest warned under his breath as he shouldered past her. "You have one chance, and you're to stay—"

"I got it, I got it," Kimber snapped in response. "Go dig t'at stick out'a ya ass before it gets stuck up t'ere."~ Other than a deep-chested growl of warning, Leonardo said nothing—he just stormed past her to some destination she didn't care to know. Rolling her eyes at his attitude, she made her way toward the light at the end of the hallway. The closer she came the more clearly she heard a familiar voice—a voice that still haunted her fondest dreams and worst nightmares.

Familiar laughter led her into the living area where two people were cuddled up on a lumpy sofa. The larger wore a familiar boyish grin that stole the breath right from her lungs. In her grip, the duffle-bag strap slid loose—sweaty palms, she realized. A fluttering, weightless sensation filled her veins—oh, no… 'Gawd dammit…why've I gotta still love'im?'~ She choked around the damned butterflies doing barrel-rolls in her gullet. Steeling her nerves, she shook off her mushy thoughts and turned the corner. 'It don't change nothin'—dead's dead, an' he never chose me anyway. It's better t'is way.'

Raphael…he looked so much the same and yet so different. His eyes shone with laughter where they once burned with distrust; his posture was relaxed where he always kept up a front before. Tucked into his side and 'narrating' the boxing match with absurd faked voice-overs was a tall, lean woman with short messy blonde hair. Kimber's lip ached to curl in a sneer as the blonde loosed a raucous laugh but she fought it back—Raph wasn't hers. If this…this woman in his arms was enough for him…well, she'd respect that. She only ever wanted to see him happy and by God, she'd do so, no matter how much it hurt.

One moment, everything in Mercy's world was perfect. There was a decent match on TV, Raph had 'bullied her' into not-cuddling with him, and for the moment they had no other obligations. As it always seemed to, though, everything fell apart in a single breath…a breath that carried a perfume of vanilla, sugar, and musk. The smell wasn't entirely unpleasant but it was strong enough to make her sinuses burn and her head hurt. Why must so many people marinate themselves in perfume and cologne?

As Mercy and Raphael turned to greet the newcomer in unison the arm around her waist slackened—bright golden hazel eyes widened—full, scarred lips fell slack in dismay. Those lips formed a single word—a name Mercy spent hours cursing that afternoon—but no sound came forth. Torn, she held her silence, eyes darting from Raphael to the stranger and back again almost desperately. She knew this moment would come, she just didn't realize how much she'd want to scream obscenities when it did.

The stranger broke the stare first, bottle-green eyes flustered behind their impeccable smoky eyeliner. She reached up to her modest neckline, grabbed at the pair of worn metal dog-tags at her chest, took a deep breath, then looked up again with a weak smile. "'ey, Raphie," she murmured in a voice still thick with smog. "Long time no see, huh?" The hulking mutant couldn't even get out a single word; he just nodded, his chin and lips unnaturally stiff. Even as he stared down Kimber Bryant he clenched his fingers even tighter to Mercy's waistband. Mercy glanced down at the sight of his three-fingered hand anchoring her in place by a belt-loop. Just that morning, she woke up with that hand tangled in the hem of her nightgown anchoring it at mid-thigh. She had nothing to fear.

She pried Raph's fingers loose, stretched an imaginary crick from her neck, and rolled off the sofa to her feet. "I'll catch up later," Mercy remarked with an entirely faked smile and made her way to the side door. "Compost prob'ly needs a turnin' 'bout now."~ On the way past, she silently took in what details she could, mentally comparing them. The other woman was her height but beyond thin and into skinny. Her hair was coarse—naturally red from the looks of it but with a texture similar to unraveled jute twine. A sharp glance told Mercy the other had practically no ass; no competition there. She rolled her eyes, punched in the security code to pass through, then let the door drift shut behind her.

Before she could get anywhere a pair of large, powerful hands snatched her by the shoulders, spun her about, and pinned her to the tunnel wall. "Why you leavin'?" Raph demanded sharply. His voice was barely below a shout but as so often before, Mercy saw underneath that posturing—she saw the suspicious shimmering in his eyes, the nervous tic in his jaw, the vulnerable hunching of his shoulders, and the lurching of his throat and plastron from frantic heaving breaths. Fear was the one thing he really had no reason to feel in this case but it was written all over him. She cupped his squared jaw, thumb tracing the scar splitting his lip.

"I ain't leavin', ya meathead," she corrected as he covered her hand with his in a frantic grip. "You were friends, right? Ya never got to say goodbye. I've seen how this's been tearin' you apart an' I'm sick of watchin' it."~ Her lips curled in a tease but it was entirely true—she was beyond sick of having another woman in their relationship, even a dead one. "Ya need closure, I get that—I'm backin' off so you can get it. Got it?" Raphael said nothing—he just stared back, visibly searching her words for subtext. When he finally spoke, what he asked made no sense.

"Why?" he demanded in a near-deadpan. Mercy wrinkled her nose but before she could speak, he continued. "Why're ya testin' me like dis? What've I done ta deserve dat?"~

"Testin' you?" Mercy shook her head and scoffed. "I'm not testin' ya, Red," she promised. "I know you and I trust you—you're not about to cheat on me with anyone, much less a dead chick, right?" He shook his head in agreement and his eyes softened; he belatedly released her hand, choosing instead to cup her cheek.

"I wouldn't do dat to ya," he confirmed gruffly. "I'd never…I promised not ta hurt ya an' I meant it…but…" He faltered, flustered and struggling to find the right words. "Dis ain't right…ya ought'a be pissed at me fer even lettin' 'er come here…heck, if dis happened to any other guy, he'd get slapped fer lettin' it happen!"

"You're not any other guy," Mercy reminded shortly, "an' I'm not any other gal. Jealousy won't help anything, it ain't healthy, and you weren't too keen on her comin' over, to begin with. I've got no reason to be mad at'cha, an' especially no reason to hit ya."~ Her eyes drifted back toward the side door, now closed, and she sighed. "I don't like it," she admitted as her hand drifted down to his thick neck, "but I know you need closure an' I trust you enough to not interfere."

Raphael said nothing—what could he possibly say?—instead, he took a step back, eyes wide. This wasn't the first time she professed her trust in him, nor would it be the last, but this utterance seemed the most improbable of all. Wait…no, there was one other moment even more unexpected—a recent moment, the moment he first witnessed Mercy Ross fall apart at the seams, right there in his arms.#

Tousled blonde hair spilled across his pillow like scattered straw. Unpainted lips, swollen from friction, panted around gasping breaths. Work-roughened fingertips clawed at the equally tough skin of his bare scalp and shoulders as he unleashed all his pent-up frustration on her finally bared skin.

   "I trust you," she'd promised only moments before. "When are ya gonna start trustin' yourself?"  

   "Ya shouldn't trust me," he'd blustered, but despite his denials, he caved to her temptation. He knew from the first breath it would take weeks to clear her pheromones from his lungs; he'd never forget the taste of her or her keening cries of completion. When the madness left her eyes and the fire dulled in his blood, Raphael knew he'd never be able to see his Mercy the same, nor would he ever cease to be humbled by her seemingly unshakable faith in him—trust he couldn't recall doing a damn thing to earn.  

That July, Raphael took a chance on happiness in the middle of an open rooftop—a single kiss followed by countless more, all sound-tracked with heavy metal. Ever since then, anytime he fell to the temptation of Mercy's lips, he lost himself completely. He wanted her—he needed her—he craved her—she was the air he breathed, vital to his very survival and responsible for every beat of his heart. Far below the filthy streets, in a dark passage forgotten by the world in general, he stole her lips and breathed her in reverence.

He loved her—loved her beyond the limits of his fears and follies—and that was why she knew he wouldn't let her down.

"So you two, huh?" Raphael ducked his head to avoid Kimber's eyes, hoping she couldn't see the traces of stickiness at his lips or the tenting of his patched trousers. She said nothing, choosing instead to examine the worn red tweed of the sofa arm she perched on.

"What of it?" he retorted slumping onto the seat at the opposite end of the couch.

"Looks like ya found a good one, 'at's all," she shrugged. He studied her silently a moment, searching for signs of deceit. In his heart, he knew this stranger was Kimber—his Kimber, the friend he threw away over his insecurities and fears—but her appearance was largely unfamiliar. Kimber was always on the chunky side of curvaceous but with an undeniable sex appeal. This new body was built like a scarecrow - all long limbs and frizzy hair - but underneath he could see the same sensual confidence Kimber had before she died. That sensuality was all Kimber - Amber lacked it completely, always coming across somewhere between odd and awkward. This woman, though visually unfamiliar, was definitely Kimber. Something in her eyes spoke of mischief…and regret. "Fer Gawd's sake," she swore under her breath and turned an acidic glare on him. He refused to meet it, locking his eyes on one padded and splayed knee. "I know t'a drill—I'm dead, not stoopid."

"Ya were never stupid, Kim, jus' stubborn an' naive," he protested but she waved him off.

"T'en quit lookin' at me like t'at." After a moment of resistance, he finally bit the bullet—he met her eyes. "Yeah, like t'at," the redhead grumbled, "like I'm gonna jump ya if ya take yer eyes off'a me or somethin'. I may be livin' in a homewrecker but t'at don't make me a homewrecker." This time, she was the one to hide her eyes.

A long, tense silence filled the room, broken only by the occasional sound from the Lab or utility room. In this unexpected but overdue moment, despite the drastically different appearance, Raphael saw Kimber as she was when they first met—not the over-confident temptress with the venomous smile and devil-may-care attitude but the lost, lonely, frightened runaway searching for her place in the world. Her new body was thirty-five if it was a year old, but she'd never looked more like a child to him than she did now. The night she turned Lefty and Northpaw over to the police and fell apart, Raph let the wrong head do the thinking and her heart suffered for it. So much heartache came from that one bad call—Kimber's death, too, was a result—how could he ever make it right?

"Rah-fay-el." The quiet – almost reverent – utterance of his name startled him from his brooding. Kimber faced the far wall but her eyes were locked on his askance. "Tell me t'a truth…did ya ever love me?" He blanched; she scoffed and picked at the faded red tweed covering the sofa. "I know we was close," she clarified in a soft tone void of accusation, "friends to be sure, but did ya ever love me like I loved you?"

He didn't answer—he couldn't answer, not around the painful lump in his throat. For so long, he wondered the very same. Loving Kimber, after all, would have made his betrayal a crime of passion rather than a bad move made in paranoid self-defense. Despite all his brooding introspection, though, he always came up with the same answer: he could have loved her, but he didn't…if he'd kept his head, maybe, someday, he could have loved her, but he didn't. "Exactly." Kimber's near-whisper broke his train of thought. "I knew ya didn't love me," she admitted even as her shoulders drew tight and her painted lips stretched in a sort of sneer. "I always knew it, I just t'ought…eh, no matter. I'm not gonna fuck up yer life again."

"I think ya got dat backwards," Raph pointed out dryly. "I fucked up yer life—I'm why yer…" He faltered, his throat clenching around the word as though to prevent him from voicing it. "Ya know," he settled for with a weak half-shrug, "like dis." Kimber watched him silently, eyes sharp enough to cut away his protective façade.

"Say it," she challenged. He flinched; she slid off the armrest and stalked over to face him, arms crossed in defiance. "Say it, Raph," she ordered, "ya know what I am—ya know t'a word, so use it. I'm…" She trailed off, one eyebrow cocked in expectance.

Raphael cringed. Of all the times he wished it was possible to completely withdraw into his shell, this was one of the worst so far. Weary hazel eyes drifted from Kimber's dirty canvas sneakers up her faded jeans and cotton blouse, up to her unimpressed eyes. "Yer…dead," he whispered as if confessing some great sin.

"Exactly," Kimber harrumphed and jabbed him between the eyes with one clear-lacquered fingernail. "Dead folks an' live folks jus' don't mix, ya muck-brained mawron.~ It wouldn't work an' I ain't about to waste my time tryin' ta make it work. Capiche?" He nodded, glaring up at her retreating back.

"Den why'd ya come back?" he asked, letting his hand fall back to his knee. "Dere had to be anutha way to test Don's theory, so why'd ya volunteer?"~ Kimber stilled in her pacing, carefully arranging her words before they could all spill out without concern for her feelings.

"I never got ta say goodbye," she admitted in a near-whisper, "not ta you, not ta Daron or Lefty, not ta anyone who mattered…but I've neva been t'at big on goodbyes anyhow, ya know?" Her voice cracked on the last words and she took a moment to compose herself. When she spoke again, she turned to the side as though watching him over her shoulder but her eyes remained hidden. "I made a lotta mistakes, Red—a lotta stoopid decisions t'at hurt a lotta people—an' much as I wanted to just stay dead, I lived ta regret every one'a t'ose decisions. T'at's why I came back…t'a fix t'a shit I broke an' atone for my sins. If t'at means stayin' here fer t'ree days while you an' Blondie play suck-face, so be it."

"Ya know you're puttin' yer life at risk, right?" Raph reminded, ignoring the suck-face comment. "Donnie ain't sure about da timing on dis thing, ya know. He an' the braided nutcase passed five days in her world but they weren't gone a whole three days, here. Who's to say ya'll have a full three days here? Who's ta say ya won't drop dead in an hour, or three hours, or even a minute from now?" He shuddered at the thought, his mind helpfully supplying several months' worth of nightmares to choose from, most of which ended with Kimber dying in his arms. "Ya froze, Kim, an' dat ain't an easy way to go; are ya really willing to risk goin' through it all over again?"

"It's my choice," she reminded with a stern expression reminiscent of an unimpressed schoolmarm. "No one asked me ta make t'at choice. Besides, see t'is?" She tugged her neckline aside to show him the small plastic device hung from her neck and the line of wire trailing down to her armpit. "T'is lil' t'ing's monitoring my core temp—we've got t'is covered. Trust me?"

Raph considered the plea a moment—for it was, indeed, a plea in every sense of the word—then gave a slow, reluctant nod. "I don't like it," he admitted in a throaty rumble, "but it ain't my job ta like it." There was much more to say, but for the moment, he hadn't words.

"Nope," Kimber agreed with a sly grin. "It's yer job ta help me give Daron a heart attack. What say we give'im a visit from t'a Livin' Dead Girl?" It was just a tease—just another excuse to ignore the elephant in the room—but for the moment, Kimber didn't care. She had more important tasks to focus on—messes to clean up, mistakes to correct, sins to atone for, and honor to regain. For now, the rest could wait.

  The Lair   -   00:35:00 and counting

Time stops for no man, people often said, and the same could be said for women. Never mind that Amber's cantankerous counterpart was staying in the Lair for the weekend…lurking around every corner…stinking up the place with her perfume…just waiting for a chance to bitch-slap Amber back into her place at the bottom of the food chain…

Amber shuddered at the thought and firmly shoved it into the back of her mind. Kimber Bryant made Amber all kinds of nervous but her presence didn't excuse Amber from her chores. There was too much to do—laundry to put away, studying to do, dinner to prepare— Something soft and furry brushed against her calf, startling her from her thoughts. "Right," she muttered as Kirk bypassed the laundry basket at her feet and hopped up onto Donnie's bed. "Gotta clean the litterboxes an' feed Kirkland too." After a mrrruhl of warning and a superfluous butt-wiggle said feline launched himself right into a pile of folded undergarments and began viciously mauling a sock big enough to double as an oven mitt. As he lay on his side, wrapped around the sock and kicking like a homicidal kangaroo, Amber sighed and shook her head in whimsical defeat. After how much she'd missed him she couldn't really be upset with the little murder-machine; cats, after all, would be cats, and socks could be darned.

"It's inevitable, Kirk," she teased as she hung a pair of patched canvas trousers in the frame-and-fabric 'closet.' "You're just gonna have to get used to sharing me with Donnie. I know I'm Mom but he's mine - you can't resent him forever." With an adorable cotton-muffled urrrr, Kirk glared at her over a mouthful of beige knit as if to say watch me. Ah, the jealousy of spoiled cats.

"Honestly, I'm lucky to have Donnie," she added to herself, doubts and worries filling her thoughts between wire hangers. Back before the dream connection was confirmed—before Donatello confronted her with his old Tonfa and confessed the name of her dead classmate—Amber could fool herself he wasn't the same Donnie she grew up with. She could tell herself that he didn't know all her dirty little secrets. He didn't watch her fall apart over the last few years of her life, partly from illness and her and partly from depression and apathy. He never heard how her poor choices in college may have led to the death of a classmate. He never knew she routinely slaked her carnal needs in impersonal encounters so her time with him in dreams could be focused on more important things than her hormones. If this Donnie wasn't her Donnie, then the mistakes of her past were only a secret to keep.

The problem was…now she knew this was her Donnie…and by the sounds of it, he remembered everything. Amber paused, fondling a strip of worn purple fabric. Even after countless washings, every one of those masks smelled strongly of his oddly comforting blend of coffee, machinery, musky exertion, and spice. "How can he even look at me, Kirk?" Amber murmured into the sweet-smelling fabric. "I screwed up with him so many times…I gave up on him, I – I gave myself up to other guys…how doesn't he hate me by now?"

This last question seemed the most perplexing. Sure, the purpose of those impersonal booty-calls was to shut up her hormones so her scant time with Donnie could be put to better use, but she always regretted them afterward. Regret, though, didn't count if a person intentionally committed the same crime over and over again, and she was guilty—guilty of closing her eyes, mentally replacing the other men with Donnie, and crying herself to sleep after they left. Regret was a weak word, really; what she felt wasn't weak. After all the time she spent hating herself for the infidelity, the idea that Donnie didn't hate her for it made no sense.

The dead silence tore her from her ruminations; odd, considering Kirk had a habit of 'answering' her every time she spoke.## After a quick glance at the bed, it was all she could do to keep from laughing. The little furball was out cold, wrapped around her favorite bra and snoring into one generous cup. The battered sock sprawled on the floor half under the bed—the enemy was vanquished. Chuckling at the absurdity, Amber crouched to retrieve the sock but paused when she noticed something wedged between the mattress and box spring. A warped silver wire binding, traces of green beyond the rings…surely she was mistaken, but it wouldn't hurt to check…right?

Amber tugged the notebook loose and promptly cringed in recognition. It was her journal, the one she hadn't written in for months then misplaced. Why was it jammed under the mattress like a nudie magazine? Curiosity drove her to investigate and she quickly discovered the litany of notes scribbled upside-down in the back. She quickly lost herself in the writing—questions and memories, hopes and fears Donatello couldn't bring himself to share with her, all centered around their years apart. Though she didn't dig too deeply, there wasn't a single word of blame or judgment anywhere—nothing that indicated resentment or disgust. Amber almost missed the sheet of loose-leaf that slipped out and fluttered to the floor—almost. The pencil-scribbled contents might have made her stumble if she hadn't already seated herself before. "I met my lover in a dream," she whispered in recognition.^ "That poem…I thought I lost it...I guess Donnie found it?" Soon enough, she hit the final lines:

Mibbe someday he will see –     Someday the truth I'll tell. For now, I've only memories,     And dreams I shot tae Hell.

Or, rather, those should have been the final lines—they were the last she wrote. Someone, however, clearly thought the poem wasn't finished and added their own verse…in pen…neatly printed by a familiar hand straddling the border between calculating and persnickety. "No way," Amber muttered thickly as she scanned the added verse, wide-eyed and breathless. "Naw fookin' way!"~ No matter how she protested, the words remained clear, impossible yet obvious. Still marveling at their presence—and at the subtext—she never heard the soft ticking of a distant clock, or the even softer inhale accompanying.

Dreams can sometimes fall apart,     And memories can fade. The truth you shared can't change my heart…     Your lover-friend I've stayed…

I'll see you in our dreams.  

There was no stopping it, no holding back: Amber crushed the paper to her pounding heart in elation. He remembered. He understood. He loved. Perhaps, even…he forgave?

Sometimes emotions are too powerful for words; fortunately for Amber, squealing unintelligibly required none.

UP NEXT: (Currently in-progress)

Chapter List

- The vital signs monitor – At first I wasn't quite sure if such a device was on the public market, at least aside from 'smart' devices like FitBit and such, so I did what I do best: I researched the fuck out of it for funzies. Turns out there are more varieties out there than I expected, each monitoring different signs in different fashions and to different accuracy levels. Since Donnie's never been the sort to simply COPY others' ideas, we can safely assume he's combined the best of several devices. The result is a small electronic monitor [about the size of a 9-volt battery] hung from the neck by a lanyard, which measures core body temp by way of leads attached to an adhesive-backed electrode stuck in the armpit. We can also assume fitting the device on Kimber was incredibly awkward because she intentionally MADE IT awkward.

* Full statement including what Amber's snoring cut off: "Ya be'n 'way too long 'gain, ya sook—nae be'n by fer a nip'er a bosie. Wha's a lass ta think?" – This little bit of Scotchness is a routine in-dream tease from Amber. You've been gone [from our dreams] too long again, you old softy—you haven't even come by for a kiss or cuddle. What's a woman to think?

** Man-Fritters – Alas, I cannot claim authorship of this little snigger-inducing euphemism. That honor belongs to author Mimi Jean Pampfiloff in her Accidentally Yours series. While the first two books were pretty recipe [if you know what I mean] they were HILARIOUS recipes. I'm not ashamed to admit that the scene in the first one where the heroine belts out 80's pop hits to keep sane made me laugh so hard I spewed my tea, CHOKED ON IT, then spent the rest of the day CROAKING. It was WORTH IT. (That said, the author also used a lovely little nonsense-word coined by my IRL friend Autumn back when we were in high school but didn't notate it. I'd encourage Autumn to stop starting word trends without first seeking a copyright but that'd mean I'd have to pay her every time I stole her stuff, heh.)

Also: Abby has no accent. She's intentionally warping the Oh, Hell no! in hopes of showing Mercy just how upset the news makes her.

# Implied smut – The encounter referenced here didn't make it to in-story occurrence BUT it took place during the Absolutes arc, which took up too much time-and-space for the intended back-and-forth between worlds. It's written up and included in the "Gallery of Memories" as The Blonde and the Beefcake and it can be found HERE.) It's almost entirely lemon, BTW. ;P

## Kirk tends to 'answer' Amber every time she talks to him – I am SO not basing this on our cat Heiferlump. Nope, not at all! …fine. Yes. Heifer responds to EVERYTHING she hears, no matter who says it, and it's rare to find someone she can't bait into answering back. She's particularly adept at getting my father to argue with her and routinely tries to argue with the microwave beeper. O_o It's awesome.

^ The Poem, "Dream Lovers" – I've not posted the entirety of the poem in any chapters or even the GoM installment of the same name. NOW, however, you can find the entire poem in comic format HERE, on this story's Here on Tumblr, OR on DeviantArt. The comic includes Donnie's additions and a small blurb of backstory leading to this scene, and the Tumblr/AO3 posts include a glossary for the many odd words used in the poem. For convenience's sake, I've included the translation of the included verse below.

Again, since Tumblr’s decided to be an ass about wordblock limits, see FFnet or AO3 for the glossary if anything throws you off.

30. Catarack

Every day you work on a different unit. Title of this Post is the name of the unit I was stationed at today. Rules of this game? Like an air rifle shoot there are many targets standing, but you’re handed 3 balls instead. Smash any three targets down and you win a prize. Each target (in a deflated attempt to be Safari related) is shaped as a different animal; many of which we don’t even have at this park anymore. For example, a few are shaped as monkeys which the Safari used to have, but have since been wiped out; I heard it was because of a Monkey Aids pandemic... that or they were vandalising too many cars in the Drive through. It’s all Chinese whispers here, that’s what I’m finding out, and nothing has made that more apparent than the work colleague who I shared Catarack with for most of this afternoon. 

He started a little later than me, was called in because the number of customers was picking up throughout the day, only for it to die out almost instantly, leaving this stranger and I to fill the time with... conversation.

I hope the three dots preceding the word ‘conversation’ illustrated how lowly I thought of this encounter, but truth is I don’t want to be a negative Nancy (a state I believe I entered in my previous post). I’m not saying I want to be cheery about everything, but most certainly I do believe there’s a way to discuss ideas without them all leading to talking someone down from the edge of a bridge because the air is so saturated with despair. 

Negativity breeds negativity.

So, throwing this out there, I’m not the kind of Potato to hit it out the park (Or should I say SAFARI park) when it comes to conversation. This is the kind of encounter I’ll have to get better at (starting with me not calling them encounters as if I’m meeting an alien), but this really was a bad conversation, and I blame it on him, but I want to discuss this in a good spirited glass half full kind of way, and maybe take some of the responsibility on my own back like a good Potato.

What’s brought on this ‘bright side’ attitude? Well, I’m potentially going to be working here for a while, and from my previous post I saw the path I had laid out in front of me and well.... yeah, its that bridge scenario; lets not go there. If you see a turning you don’t want to take, you don’t take it.

So: Lets discuss what he said, say “Oh holy god, lets leave” and take a tangent down a better route; because he’s not the kind of guy who talks people down from bridges, he’s the kind of guy who shoves them off.

This person is filled with hate with a capital H, and this is really best exemplified by his attitude to customers. See, we have all kind of nationalities of people rocking up to this animal park, as it’s a pretty good tourist destination. This guy, with conversation quickly drying out between us (how much similar ground do we really share when he comes from above it and I was born below) would just come out with something absurdly offensive as if to try and get a reaction out of me. Not in an actively trying to offend me kind of way, but rather to get a response; he was trying to be interesting. He was trying to fascinate me; by saying racist derivative things about the customers.

This source of desperation to look like a man through ‘thought out opinions’ governed by fear really just revealed a little boy hiding in a Trojan horse, wanting to look like a gift; strong and remarkable, he’d creep through your gates and then BOOM! He’s inside you... well, not in that way, that’s condoned as rape, but... well, maybe it was a form of assault, because I certainly wasn’t allowing him in. Hell, if I could I’d burn the big wooden horse down where it stood before it even had a chance to get in.

Sadly, he did get the jump on me, because I didn’t stand up against him. I just didn’t know what to say. I could barely remember the name of the guy and he was landing this heavy stuff on me, but masked with a smile like he wanted to be my friend. This angered me the most, not necessarily because of this shell of a man, but rather me not challenging him; it made me feel like I contributed. I didn't stamp out the fire named racism, and in that had allowed it to foster and grow inside him so he could spread it to the next work colleague he worked with. 

It was a disease that needed to be stopped, and I let it go on.

This fear that was building up inside him was a warped logic that I believe he had built up as a wall of defence. Serving people that frustrated him and desperate to rise himself up the ranks on where he thought he stood, he had to create a system of logic in his mind that validated him, made him feel strong; further than that, he had to propagate that idea to further validate it, so he could feel secure in his new ranks as a “Straight White Male”. Oh how safe he must feel being the ‘pure’ race, even though there are SO many reasons so many of these people he served were so far above him in regards of... well, so many things. But in this little system he had built, they were beneath him.

His ideas, these feelings that made him feel safe, were like the attributes we assigned to luck. The very logic of them don’t make sense as LUCK doesn’t exist, it’s something that just validates our choices and adds structure to this scary unpredictable world that’s so structures. Luck makes us feel there’s something safeguarding our choices, that someone’s watching our back. 

This very same idea of LUCK is at play when someone plays our game. They walk passed and we say “Fancy your Luck” and if they lose we say “Bad Luck”, because it isn’t their fault when they muck up, it’s out of their control, but don’t worry; blame your mistakes of losing on something else and you’ll come up top in the end.

Other systems come into play as well when playing this game. For example, maybe they’ll pick a type of animal as a target; only hit the Monkeys down for example, because they’re their favourite animal. But just like race, every type of target we got up there stand equal, and choosing one over another has absolutely no benefit.

But as long as it fits their logic, it all makes sense. Actually get them to confront the ugly truth and they’ll crumple up as they’re not ready to know they’re ‘not on top’.

And this colleague who works with me is most certainly ‘not on top’. And neither was I as I stood there in silence listening to him mouth off about such horrifying ideas he had filled himself with.

I should of stamped it out, like the the potential Aids pandemic that killed the monkeys, or the Chinese whispers this rumour originated from. These ideas spread, in all their toxic evilness; they bring everyone down, one by one like the targets of my game. And everyone will feel like a winner, everyone will raise the ranks in their self assemble system of lies, but in reality they’ll be hollowed out like I was being right now by the darkness that was spreading from within. It spreads like tumours, like a disease, because it is in itself contagious.

Negativity breeds negativity.

Another Way (pt 4)

Hi guys, installments will be posted here but the full fic is already up on AO3 along with all my other works. http://archiveofourown.org/users/RedStarFiction/works 

The drive to Fort Knox should take five and a half hours. The speed limit should be followed. There are a lot of ‘should’s in life. Mickey makes the journey in four hours and twenty minutes. He pulls in about half a mile away from the imposing looking main building and dials Ian.

“Hey Mickey.”

Ian sounds out of breath and Mickey can barely hear him over the wind.

“Hey, I’m here. Where are you?”

“I don’t know.”

Ian giggles. Mickey bites his lip impatiently.

“Well that ain’t a whole lot of fucking use to me, Gallagher.”

“I ran, Mick. I busted that pricks face and I fuckin’ ran. I’m under a bridge. Want me to find out which one?”

Mickey makes an elaborately aggressive hand gesture and curls his upper lip at the stupidity of that question, glaring at the handset.

“Uh … yeah. That would be a useful piece of information for me to have.”

“OK, hang on ...”

Ian hangs up and Mickey uses up all of his remaining patience on not throwing his cell out of the window, driving back to Chicago and letting Gallagher sort his own shit out.

When his phone rings again Mickey’s answers it with a firm

“What?”

“It’s Hendersons Bridge. I’m under that.”

“Well fucking get over it and back onto the road so I can pick you up.”

“Are you really in Kentucky?”

Ian sounds like he’s about to laugh again and Mickey clenches his jaw hard enough that his teeth squeak. This isn’t like Ian. Even if the asshole was still pissed at Mickey, which the brunette reasons he probably is, this weird tweaker sounding crap isn’t like him. He sounds … vacant.

“Yeah for some stupid ass reason I’m in Kentucky and I’ve got about a quarter tank of gas left to get the fuck out again so can you please stop dicking around and get your ass somewhere I can come get you?”

“Sure. OK … um … you on the road to the fort?”

“Yeah, ‘bout half a mile out.”

“Cool, I ran about six miles so maybe just drive back along but drive slowly; you don’t wanna kill me do you?”

Ian laughs and Mickey narrowly resists the urge to suggest that he might actually be okay with that.

“Just stay on the main road, man. I’ll find you.”

Mickey grits the words with as much forbearance as he can muster and hangs up, swinging the car round. Fuckin’ Gallagher.

*

Mickey lets out a relieved sigh when a familiar figure comes into view walking on the verge of the road. He beeps his horn lightly and Ian turns around to face the oncoming car. His face is a damn mess and Mickey doesn’t feel so bad about his own split lip any more.

“Whose neck am I breakin’ for that shit?”

Mickey calls, leaning across to speak through the open window as he pulls up alongside the younger boy.

“No one. I took care of it.”

Ian smiles and gets into the passenger seat. He’s wearing his military uniform and Mickey can’t help but notice just how much he’s filled out even in the last few months. Ian wipes a hand beneath his nose, the blood is sticky but mostly dry and he gives Mickey a goofy grin.

“My knight in shining armour. Well, not shining, this car is a piece of shit!”

Mickey smiles despite himself and licks his lip, Ian’s eyes follow the movement and his smile fades to a frown as he takes in the scab.

“Woah. Someone hit you. What happened?”

“Are you kiddin’ me? The fuckin’ state of you and you’re worried about this little scratch? Unbelievable.”

Mickey frowns and shakes his head

“Do I look bad?”

Ian asks cautiously. Mickey gives him a side-eyed look, thumbing the edge of his nose awkwardly

“You’re covered in blood and you smell like horse shit, but no, you don’t look bad, Gallagher. Not to me.”

The boys share a shy smile and Mickey puts the car in gear, heading away from the fort.

“Alirght. Where do you wanna go?”

“Can we get a hotel?”

Ian asks and Mickey puffs out his cheeks considering

“I dunno man, I got like forty bucks and most of that is gonna go in this tank. Plus Svetlana will be pissed if I stay out all night.”

“Svetlana?”

Ian jerks backwards as if Mickey has slapped him and Mickey shrugs defensively, taking his eyes from the road to glance at Ian

“What?”

“Well … you’re here! I thought … How are you still married?”

“Don’t worry, she’s about as happy with it as I am.”

Mickey runs a hand tersely through his hair and bites his lip absent-mindedly. He doesn’t want to talk about his marriage right now. He just wants to enjoy being around Ian, no matter the circumstances.

“So what? You just told her you were coming to see your old … me?”

Ian finishes lamely, not sure whether to call himself a boyfriend, lover or some other stupid title. Mickey waves the question away and rolls his shoulders uncomfortably.

“Look it’s not like it’s a big deal, I can’t afford a hotel anyway but if you want I can bring you back to my place. My dad got arrested this morning so he’s out of the picture, thank fuck.”

“No thanks.”

Ian shakes his head and stares resolutely out of the window, jaw set firmly. Mickey rolls his neck and makes an exasperated hand gesture before saying

“Are you just gonna pout for the whole journey now?”

“I’m not pouting I just … it’s fine.”

“What? What’s fine?”

Mickey snaps, defensiveness making his tone sharper than he intended

“I can’t believe you’re still living with her. Does she share your bed too? You a proper happy couple now?”

Ian doesn’t yell but it’s a close thing

“She lives with me and I make sure she’s fed. That’s about the extent of it.”

Mickey answers and Ian turns to him, green eyes furiously bright

“Didn’t answer my question.”

“Shouldn’t fuckin’ have to! Jesus. I just spent my whole day driving across state because you made one damn phone call and you’re gonna sit there all pissed at me cause of somethin’ you already knew? Grow up, Ian.”

“Why won’t you just be who you are?”

Ian slaps his thigh in a fit of temper and Mickey scoffs dismissively, gesturing with splayed fingers to Ian’s bloody face

“Yeah, because that seems to be workin’ out for you real well.”

They drive in a tense silence for maybe twenty minutes until they come to a gas station and Mickey pulls in.

“I gotta fill the tank.”

“K.”

“You hungry?”

“Yeah.”

Ian nods but refuses to make eye contact with him and Mickey sucks in his bottom lip, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

“Well? What do you want to eat?”

Ian’s answer is flat

“Whatever you have. Thanks.”

“You’re very fuckin’ welcome!”

Mickey slams the car door, taking the keys with him because Mickey doesn’t want to have to hunt Ian down and kick his ass if he takes off with the car. He tops up the gas, ramming the nozzle in and out with more force than strictly necessary, hoping that the clanging is getting on Gallagher’s nerves.

Mickey heads into the gas station, clocks the cameras and the guy behind the counter who looks more asleep than awake and saunters down the aisles, filling his pockets with first aid supplies and a couple of candy bars before sauntering up to the till to pay for gas and get a couple of hotdogs.

Ian shifts uncomfortably in the seat as guilt nags at him. He doesn’t want to be a prick but the hurt and anger he thought distance would wash away are ebbing back and forth amidst all the other mixed up feelings and he can’t seem to get a decent handle on them. Watching Mickey’s head bob up and down in the store window, Ian realises just how terribly he really has missed him. Even before the bullying, before his mind felt like it was unravelling, he missed Mickey with every fibre of his being and it hurts to know he is still with Svetlana, even though it is not a shock.

When Mickey gets back to the car, Ian accepts the food with another muffled thank you, holding Mickey’s as well while he pulls away from the pump and into a parking space beside the store. As they eat the tension between them lessens slightly and Ian allows his posture to soften just a little.

“You want the radio on?”

“Yeah sure.”

Mickey fiddles with the dial, grimacing as he shuffles through country music and sugary pop stations to get to a fairly okay station playing classic rock. Ian watches him eat out of the corner of his eye. He’s always loved how exuberantly Mickey chews his food, the way he mostly leaves his mouth open and really rolls everything around in there, openly enjoying himself and fuck whatever anyone else thinks.

“You got mustard ...”

Ian motions to the corner of Mickey’s mouth and when the older boy raises a knuckle to the wrong side Ian gives him a lopsided smile and reaches across and wipes the little smear of yellow away with his own thumb, the weight of it lightly tugging Mickey’s full bottom lip downward. The small touch is electric and both boys feel the shock waves ripple through them.

Ian notices Mickey’s pupils dilate at the contact and deliberately sucks the pad of his thumb, maintaining eye contact. Mickey’s tongue slides over the spot where Ian has just touched him and turns slightly in his seat to look at him properly.

“We … ah ...”

Mickey clears his throat as his voice cracks and shakes himself slightly. Gallagher does things to him that Mickey can’t explain but there is dried blood all over Ian’s face and they need to take care of that before getting distracted with anything else.

“We gotta clean you up. I got some stuff.”

He empties his pockets of the antiseptic lotion, cotton buds and band-aids and both the snickers bars. Ian glances dispassionately at the kit but his eyes light up at the sight of the candy.

“You still eat these?”

He plucks one of the bars from Mickey’s lap, his wrist grazing the snugly fitted denim.

“Yeah, they’re alright.”

“Must be. You got shot for one.”

Ian teases and Mickey allows a small smile to lighten his own face.

“Yeah I think that towel-head paedophile was real upset about me takin’ his candy.”

“Was the nut worth it?”

It’s a lame double entendre but those are kind of Ian’s speciality and Mickey secretly loves them, like he secretly loves so many of the goofy things Ian does.

“Your jokes still suck, man.”

Mickey flashes his teeth in a genuine grin as Ian punches his arm

“My jokes are awesome.”

He picks up the antiseptic stuff and begins to pull the plastic film off it. Mickey picks up the cotton pads and motions for Ian to give the lotion to him.

“C’mere.”

“I can do it.”

Ian protests but Mickey just frowns and takes hold of his chin, turning his head firmly to face him.

“Gonna sting.”

“I know.”

Ian wrinkles his nose as Mickey points out the obvious and Mickey bugs his eyes at him in retaliation.

“Well I’m just sayin’ because I don’t want you squirming like a little bitch and getting this shit in your eye.”

“You’re a good nurse.”

Ian teases, smiling that smile which turns Mickey’s guts inside out again.

“Okay, you know what ...”

Mickey tries to shove the prepped cotton swab into Ian’s hand but Ian refuses to take it, smirking at Mickey knowingly

“Sorry, sorry. Go ahead, Nurse Ratched.”

“Fuckin’ would lobotomise your cocky ass if I had the chance.”

Mickey grumbles but his touch is unaccustomedly gentle as he wipes the pad over Ian’s cuts and scrapes.

“So you ever gonna tell me what the fuck is goin’ on?”

Ian fixes his gaze on the cracked window frame behind Mickey’s left ear and swallows heavily.

“Group of assholes started hazing me a few weeks back. It got pretty bad, they wouldn’t stop. Messed up all my stuff, attacked me in the corridors. It felt like I was goin’ mad.”

Mickey grunts and turns Ian’s chin slightly to wipe blood from his hairline

“What made them start?”

“I thought… I thought one of them wanted me to kiss him … so I kissed him.”

Mickey’s hand freezes and Ian feels the fingers on his chin tighten a fraction.

“Well that was stupid.”

His voice is measured but there is an undercurrent of something that Ian can almost hope is jealousy but suspects is just incredulity at his idiocy.

“I think he was scared. He kept putting the moves on me but when it came to it he was afraid. He’s probably not a bad guy.”

“Bullshit. You can be scared of somethin’ without being a fuckin’ dick about it.”

Mickey snaps, he doesn’t want to hear Ian defend some asshole who has made his life miserable, especially not an asshole Ian wanted to kiss.

“Really? The wedding band on your finger and my chipped molar say otherwise.”

It’s a low blow and Ian isn’t surprised when the antiseptic lotion is pressed more firmly into a graze on his cheekbone, making him hiss through his teeth with the sting of it. Mickey knows Ian’s jibes aren’t exactly undeserved but that doesn’t mean they aren’t fucking annoying.

“What’s his name? The guy who started all this shit.”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters.”

Mickey says grimly and Ian knows they look in his eye all too well. In a bizarre twist of fate, Ian has gone from haunted prey to unwitting hunter and he realises that he very likely holds Private Stirling’s life in his hand.

“He was just some guy. I don’t even know his name.”

Ian lies and Mickey’s brows knit briefly together before he shrugs and decides to let it go for now.

Mickey finishes the rest of the clean-up job in silence and starts the car engine, pulling out of the gas station and angling the car back toward Chicago.

“Thank you for driving all this way.”

Ian says softly after a couple of miles have passed. Blue eyes flick sideways to meet his and Mickey grunts in acknowledgement. What Mickey wants to say is that he is glad Ian called him and that the distance is nothing to him but what he settles on is:

“It’s fine.”

“I was considering stealing a chopper to get out.”

Ian smiles suddenly and Mickey lets out a shocked laugh that makes Ian’s smile widen

“You know how to fly one?”

“No.”

Ian admits, running a hand self-consciously through his hair. Mickey’s tongues his cheek, eyes sparkling and Ian rolls his eyes, knowing he is being mocked.

“It can’t be that much different from a car.”

“You shitting me?”

“What? It’s just hand controls and buttons.”

“Yeah! Complicated ones! I bet you wouldn’t even have got the damn thing off the ground, more likely you’d have tipped it over and broken it.”

“Oh fuck you! I’d have been fine.”

Ian laughs as Mickey raises a slender black brow and tilts his head in the universal gesture of ‘yeah right’

“Gallagher, I’ve seen you drive. Even if you got it going, you’d have flown at like two miles an hour and stopped to let fuckin’ birds cross the clouds.”

Ian tries not to laugh but it bursts forth in a gloriously loud snort

“Damn you’re a classy broad!”

Ian raises his middle finger to Mickey’s nose, closes his eyes, and leans his head back against the headrest contentedly, feeling better than he has in weeks.

“Hey, listen, you sure you don’t want to go and fuck those guys up properly? I don’t wanna have to drive all the way back in a few days if you change your mind.”

Mickey lights a smoke one handed and then tosses the packet to Ian, who catches them but doesn’t take one.

“No, I don’t want to go back there.”

“Sure?”

When Ian doesn’t answer, Mickey chances a glance over at him. He seems to be nodding off so Mickey slows the car down a little, not enough that Ian would notice it but enough to draw the journey out. It’ll burn more gas and Mickey will probably have to find money to top it up again in the morning but fuck it. Money ain’t everything.

Mickey isn’t surprised that Gallagher seems so exhausted. It’s hard to sleep when you’re constantly waiting for the next shitty thing to happen to you. Mickey knows that very well and he is happy to let Ian sleep, nothing is going to happen to him now.

*

A little while later Ian jerks in his sleep and murmurs something. When he looks over, Mickey notices there are tear tracks on Ian’s cheeks. Whatever the ‘hazing’ was, it was clearly fuckin’ awful and Mickey chews on the inside of his cheek wishing he had the ring-leaders name.

Ian jerks again and Mickey lets go of his dark thoughts, reasoning with himself that Kentucky ain’t so far to come if Ian ever does tell him.

He reaches across the space between them and touches Ian’s shoulder, lightly shaking him.

“Ian? It’s okay man, just a dream.”

Ian blinks into waking and as his eyes meet Mickey’s, a sweet smile of recognition curves his mouth and he sighs.

“It’s you.”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Mickey flicks his eyes back to the empty road ahead as Ian shifts himself to lay his head on Mickey’s bare shoulder.

“You smell good, Mick.”

He mutters and then sinks back into sleep, unaware of the effect his words have on the older boy, who blinks rapidly and twitches his nose. Mickey has no idea how four words from Ian can make him feel like the weight of the world is dropping from his shoulders but there it is. He feels better than he has in weeks and it’s all because Ian Gallagher is near him.

He waits until he is sure that Ian is definitely asleep and then leans down and places a single kiss on Ian’s temple, the feel of fine copper hair against his lips, as welcome as the warmth of the sun after a long winter.

“Missed you, Firecrotch.”

He murmurs, and eases his foot off the gas pedal a little more.