#I am going to make the list but I’ll have to scan through a lot of transcripts and such to do so. so it’ll take a while 😅

[mint-mumbles]

Gonna make a list of queer characters that don’t outright state their queerness because a certain group of people complaining about the handling of a certain character’s arc from a certain game is pissing me off

“They didn’t make her say she was trans so that means that they’re giving us a ‘fuck you’/we need confirmation or it isn’t valid and transphobes will be transphobic/they’re queerbaiting!”

Shut the fuck up

The fact that we’re even at this point is a miracle in itself and needing every character to explicitly say their orientation and/or gender identity shows how ignorant you are, not just regarding media literacy, but also on queer history

By your myopic lens you’re discrediting a lot of queer characters that didn’t and/or couldn’t outright say that they’re queer

Characters shouldn’t have to outright say their orientation and/or gender identity for you to consider them “good rep”

That perspective is ridiculously narrow minded and downplays the importance of previous queer characters that helped pave the way to where we are now

Update: Here it is!

[cherryblossomcowgirl]

No Caller ID

*Inspired by Megan Moroney’s “No Caller ID”*

WC: 2.4k

WARNINGS: Angst; place crash / ejection; injuries; fear of death; cursing (I think?); broken heart

.

.

I sigh and check my phone. *No Caller ID* AKA Jake. Hitting ignore, I slide it back into my pocket. Bradley raises an eyebrow, “Who was that?” I roll my eyes, “You know who.” He runs his hand through his hair, “Y/n, you’re my best friend and I can’t believe that I am about to say this… have you spoken to him?” I shake my head, “Why would I? I think he made his decision pretty clear.” Bradley shrugs, “Then why is he still calling you?” I scoff, “To torture me.” Bradley lets out a long sigh, “You coming out tonight?” “Maybe after dinner.” He raises an eyebrow, “James?” I smile proudly, “Date number 4!” “Well, I am happy for you. I’ll let you know when we get to the bar.” We hug and Bradley heads out to his Bronco. I rush to get ready for dinner, praying I don’t get another call from Jake. So far I’ve ignored each one, but he’s chipping away at the walls I worked so hard to build up. I know if I answer and hear that southern drawl, I won’t be able to say no. I’ll go right back to him, the man that broke my heart. After changing my outfit too many times, I jump in my car and head to meet James.

.

.

Dinner was amazing. James is tall, dark, and handsome. He runs a private security firm. He’s so attentive to everything I say and do. But my brain wanders throughout dinner, wondering why I don’t feel a spark. The first couple of dates I told myself it would come with time. As we walk out, he places his hand on the small of my back. Nothing. My phone buzzes and I check it. “That was Bradley, they all just got to the bar. Would you like to come with me?” James smiles, “Lead the way, pretty girl.” We walk up the street to the Hard Deck and I warn James about my friends, “They’re a lot… but they grow on you.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder, “I’m excited to meet them.” The squad is by the pool tables, like always. James grabs us drinks and I introduce him. “Bradley, Nat, Bob, and Javy.” They smile and wave. We start a game of pool and James starts making his way around the group, trying to get to know each person. How am I not head over heels for him? Bradley stands beside me, “He seems nice.” I take a sip of my drink, “He is.” He raises an eyebrow, “So you’re barely smiling because you’re just… so happy?” I smack his arm, “Shut up. I am happy.” I scan the room, absentmindedly. Bradley clears his throat, “That’s like the 4th time you’ve looked for him. He got called out for something tonight. He’s not coming.” I scoff, “I wasn’t… that wasn’t… I don’t care.” Bradley hits a ball in the corner pocket, “You don’t sound too convinced.”

.

.

From the outside, the night seems to be going great. I think everyone likes James and James seems to like everyone. But there is that part of me wishing Jake was here instead. Then another part of me that is angry at that part of me for wanting him here. I stare in the dirty bathroom mirror, “He left you. Move on.” When I walk back out, I stand beside James. He puts an arm around my waist and pulls me in close. NO SPARK. I sigh at myself. My phone rings and I ignore it, assuming it is *No Caller ID*. When it starts ringing again I pull it out and my heart drops. I drop my phone and James picks it up, “Why is the Navy calling you?” Bradley’s head whips towards me as I answer, plugging one ear so I can hear. “Hello, Ms. Y/n Y/l/n? I am calling from Coronado to let you know there has been an incident. We need you to come to the hospital on base as quickly as possible.” I can’t breathe, let alone respond. My drink falls from my hand. I wince at the sound of glass shattering on the floor. The voice on the other end starts speaking again, “Ma’am? It’s about Lieutenant Seresin. You are listed as his emergency contact. Are you able to come to the hospital at Coronado?” “Yes.” I croak out. Bradley grabs my arms, “What’s going on?” I’m shaking and I can’t stop, “It’s… it’s… he’s… there’s been an incident…” James clears his throat, “What’s happening?” I turn to meet his eyes, “It’s… Jake…” Nat grabs my purse and hands it to Bradley, “Get her there, now. We will pay the tabs and head over. Someone call Maverick.” The room around me is spinning and I try to focus on each step as we make our way out the door. James turns to Bradley, “Can you please explain what is happening?” Bradley speaks quickly, “There must have been a crash or an ejection.” James runs his hand through his hair, “Who is Jake? Why is she his emergency contact?” Bradley takes a breath, “Jake and Y/n… Jake is… He must not have changed the paperwork.” A look of sadness washes over James face, but I can’t even respond. I’m sitting in the passenger seat of the Bronco and all I can think of is Jake. Every call I declined. Every text I ignored. James turns to me, “Give me a call when you get home safe.” I nod and try to smile, but it comes out looking pathetic. Bradley jumps in the Bronco and starts the engine.

.

.

I run through the hospital hallway, frantically counting the rooms until I find 34. Jake is lying in a bed, looking pale and weak. He turns his head towards the door, “Y/n?” I stand by the edge of the bed, “Jake, what happened?” He winces and touches a spot on his head, “They called you?” I sigh, “Apparently I am still your emergency contact. What happened?” “Ejection. Landed in trees and then fell from those onto rocks.” We sit there for a moment in total silence. His hand is shaking, so I put mine on top of it. “Jake, you’re freezing.” I check the closet, grabbing him a blanket and carefully placing it over him. He looks up, green eyes piercing mine, “I’m sorry that I forgot to change the paperwork.” I shake my head, “Don’t apologize. Did they say how long you have to be here?” He groans, “Just overnight if all my scans come back clear.” The rest of the team files in as I grab another blanket and pillow from the nurses station. Once everyone has had a minute with him, I get comfy on the couch. He looks over at me, “What are you doing?” “You think I would leave you here? All alone?” He shrugs, “I don’t know what to think.” I know exactly what he means. I ignore him for months but here I am now, sleeping on a sofa in his hospital room. I rub my face, “We can talk about it in the morning.” Jake nods, “Goodnight, Y/n.” “Goodnight, Jake.” I quickly pull out my phone, letting James know I’ll be at the hospital tonight. He reads it, but doesn’t respond. I screenshot it and text Bradley.

Me: What does this mean?

His response is almost immediate.

Bradley: That Jake is important to you and now he knows it too.

I turn off my phone and bury my face in the blanket. James is nice. James is sweet. James is successful. And handsome. And ripped. I should want James. But Jake is Jake.

.

.

Sunlight peaks through the paper thin hospital curtains and I rustle awake. Jake is still passed out, thanks to the medicine. I check my phone, still nothing from James. A doctor walks in, waking Jake up. “Hi Lieutenant. We got all of your scans back and you are good to go. Bruised and scraped up, but as long as you take it easy for a couple weeks you will heal up just fine. I’ve got some medicine for you to help with the pain.” Jake thanks them and I grab his bag. He raises an eyebrow, “What’re you doing now?” “Driving you home. You can’t drive with the medicine you’re on.” He nods and goes into the restroom, changing into normal clothes. Jake walks out cautiously, like every step hurts. I take his arm and swing it over my shoulder, giving him some much needed support. “Thanks.” He murmurs as we head to my car (that Bradley and Bob had so graciously dropped off). When we reach his apartment, I get him set up on the couch. I head into the kitchen to grab him water and some food. Tears fill my eyes when I see his fridge. Every photo is still up. Each Polaroid. Each strip photo from the state fair to my friend’s wedding. I set Jake’s things in front of him, sitting down by his feet. He takes a sip of water but his voice is still hoarse, “Can we talk now?” I look down at my hands, “Sure.” Jake takes a deep breath, “You decline every one of my calls, but you show up at the hospital?” The tears are still there from before, but now they’re right on the edge of my waterline. I blink and one falls, “I wanted to answer each one, but I couldn’t.” “Why?” I place my hands in my lap, “You made your choice and it wasn’t me. I was trying to move on.” “Did you?” His green eyes look… hopeful. Another tear falls, “I thought I did, but I don’t think he’s too happy with me right now.” Jake raises an eyebrow and I sigh, “The hospital called when we were out and I shut down. Bradley had to bring me here.” “And he’s upset with you?” I put my elbows on my knees and hide my face in my hands, “I think so. My reaction wasn’t really a reaction you’d have for a friend.” A small smile spreads across his lips, “So you didn’t tell him about me? Worried he’d know he’d never compare?” We both chuckle and I roll my eyes, “They must’ve given you some good medicine, huh?” He laughs so hard that he winces, “But really, why didn’t you tell him about me? Did he meet the rest of the squad?” I nod, “I couldn’t tell him about you. Usually you don’t start off a relationship talking about the person who broke your heart.” Jake’s sighs and reaches for my hand. I let him grab mine, wrapping it in his own calloused one. There’s an immediate current of electricity running between us. He notices my reaction and smirks, “That’s why you couldn’t tell him about me.” A blush colors my cheeks. My phone rings and it’s James. “I have to take this.” I take a deep breath and head into the kitchen. “Hi James.” “Hi Y/n. How is he doing?” I am shocked he asked, “He’s okay. He had to eject and didn’t have a very good landing.” James grunts, “Well I am happy he’s okay. Can I ask you something?” “Of course.” There’s a pause, “There’s no way I can compete with him, right?” I try to find words but I can’t. He sighs, “I can’t say that I’m not disappointed, Y/n. I really like you. Give me a call if you change your mind.” He hangs up and I close my eyes, wondering what the hell I am doing.

.

.

After a few much needed moments to gather myself, I walk back into the living room. Jake raises an eyebrow, “How’s James?” I snap, “He’s gone because he doesn’t think he can compare to you, Jake. Because even though I have tried to move on, you have some hold over me! You left me! You packed your things and left me A NOTE! And here I am, like some lovesick loser, running to your side to help even though you probably don’t even want me here.” Jake’s face falls, “Y/n, I do want you here. When you walked in those doors at the hospital, I couldn’t believe it. I regretted what I did the moment I did it. That’s why I’ve been trying to call you. I never stopped loving you.” I wipe the tear rolling down my cheek, “How can you love someone and treat them that way?” He takes my hand and moves me to sit beside him, “Y/n, I wanted you to have a normal life. I thought if I left, you’d find some guy with an office job that could be there for you everyday. The deployments, the trainings, the danger… I didn’t want that life for you.” “You don’t get to make that decision for me.” His rough hand caresses my cheek, “I’m so sorry that I did.” I sit there in silence, trying to figure out what to make of all of this. As much as I wish I hated Jake, he’s been on my mind since the day he left. I’ve searched for him in every man and all I’ve found is disappointment. Jake’s voice brings me back, “Is it too late for us?” I shake my head as another tear falls, “I think I would’ve waited forever until I found you again. No matter how angry I was. I knew if I answered the phone, you’d break down my walls instantly. I was just scared.” He furrows his brow, “Scared of what?” “Losing you, again.” His green eyes stare into mine, “If you give me another chance, I promise that I will do my best to show you how much I love you every single day.” I smile, “And you’ll rub my neck every night?” He chuckles, “Just like the old days.” I giggle, looking down at our hands intertwined. My smile falls and Jake notices, “What’s wrong?” My voice comes out a whisper, “I thought you were going to die thinking I hated you. I kept telling myself I should’ve just answered the phone.” He pulls me into his chest, “I’m here baby, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I love you so much.” Jake leans in, kissing me gently. His lips are just like I remember, soft and sweet.

[crackedpumpkin]

𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝟎𝟖 |

a/n: Happy New Year <3

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

Receiving the honorary ninja status isn’t as great as you imagined. It comes with its perks, like an ego boost, for one, but it definitely has its downfalls as well. For example, finding out you’re being targeted by a random villain via an ominous picture of you in their hideout.

Just what you wanted in life. To unknowingly piss off some criminal mastermind. You definitely didn’t have it on this year’s bingo list, which is rather unfortunate. Maybe next year.

After Cole had taken the picture from your hands and handed it to Lloyd, he pulled you aside, guiding your numb body out of the warehouse. The briny scent barely registers in your head, your feet moving on autopilot. His warm hand gripping your wrist is probably the only thing keeping you anchored to the real world right now.

Why me? The fuck did I do to them? Am I being pranked? Did I accidentally cut them in line at a bakery? Is this karma for the time I accidentally threw away Melody’s gift? Shouldn’t there be a Ninja Customer Service I can call to ask about this?

You’re still running these thoughts in circles when Cole abruptly stops. He turns, his hands firmly gripping your shoulders as if he’s holding you together through sheer willpower. He says your name again, voice soft but concerned.

When you don’t reply, he leans in, concerned eyes scanning your blank expression. He calls your name for the fifth time (possibly eighth, but you were too out of it to count). The fuzzy fog of panic clears just enough to reveal Cole’s frustrated face about two inches from your own. 

You flinch, your body instinctively taking a half-step back. “I-I’m fine,” you mumble, although the complete lack of conviction in your voice betrays you immediately. He lets out a slow breath, visibly trying to calm himself down. His hands remain on your shoulders, but his grip loosens, as if he’s trying not to overwhelm you any more than you already are. 

"You’re not fine,” he says quietly, his voice soft but firm. “You just found out that some psycho’s been watching you. It’s okay to not be fine.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard. For a moment, you see the cracks in his usual tough exterior, the worry beneath his brittle composure. He’s frustrated, not at you, but at the situation. He’s frustrated at the fact that he can’t fix this with just his strength alone.

His brow furrows, and he leans back a little, his hand running through his hair. "Look, I know this is a lot, but we're going to figure it out. Together. We’ll get to the bottom of it and make sure you’re safe."

You laugh, but it comes out soulless, like you’d drop to the ground any moment now. “Safe? Safe?? ” you reach up and grab his hands that still rest on your shoulders, bringing them down and letting go.

“They had a picture of me. I didn’t even know they were there.” The words feel foreign on your tongue, the sheer fact of how vulnerable you were in the moment rattles you more than you’d like to let on. “Why would they even target me?”

“They won’t. I’ll make sure that you’re safe.” 

“ We’ll make sure you’re safe.” Lloyd interrupts, walking up to the both of you. His words are firm and resolute, somehow calming your jittery nerves. Nya joins, placing a hand on your shoulder with a soft smile. 

“For now, let’s go back home. Cole?” He nods. His hand finds your wrist gently, the warmth of his touch grounding you as he leads you toward Rocky. 

The ride home is silent. Your arms rest limply around his waist, the steady rising and falling of his chest bringing you a sense of newfound calm. His hand somehow finds yours, placing it on top of them with an assuring squeeze.

Rocky glides down towards your apartment building, landing smoothly. The slight jolt stirs you from the coma-like daze you’re in, purely having focused on trying to match Cole’s breathing. 

He helps you get down, every touch and motion gentle as if you’d shatter in his hands at any moment. It’s a drastic contrast from your usual self, and on any other day you’d smack his hands away with a huff but now? Now, you probably need this more than ever. 

You wait for the lift together, his hand gripping yours in a loose hold. The lift dings, its doors opening for you to get in. “Hey.” Cole’s voice breaks the silence, and you pause to look at him. “It’ll be okay. I promise. We’ll figure this out.” Taking a deep breath, your usual retorts die on the tip of your tongue. 

“...Sure.”

— — — — — 

“Hey, what the fuck?” 

“Good morning to you too, sunshine.” Kai greets you with a sarcastic smile, sliding down his sunglasses as he nods. “I’m here to pick you up for school.”

“Who’s this?” You inhale sharply with a hiss, slowly turning around to see your dad leaning against the wall with his coffee mug in hand. “You a friend of my daughter’s?” 

In this moment, you’ve never regretted answering a doorbell more than you do right now.

“I’m the fire-” You slap your hands over his mouth, muffling the rest of his sentence. 

“Yes! He’s…a friend! Remember the ones I told you about before?? This is…Wang. Wang Fire.”

“Wang Fire?” Seconds pass, the ball of nerves tightening in your chest as he regards Kai sceptically. You retract your hands when you feel something wet against them, shooting a disgusted glare at Kai who shrugs innocently. “Your friends… exist?”

“I’d say so, yeah. My sister and I are her friends in class.” Kai takes the hint, lying flawlessly. “We’re meeting her later. Hey, since you lost that bet of ours, you’ll have to buy coffee for Sapphire and I.”

That sly bitch-

Glaring at him only further bolsters his confidence, shrugging once more while giving off the impression of the picture perfect friendship you both share. “Well, don’t keep your friend waiting.” Your dad gestures to your bag sitting next to the shoe rack. “I’ll see you later. And make sure you buy them coffee!”

“I will,” you grumble, shoving on your sneakers and all but bolting out the door. Kai bows quickly to your dad before following suite, the door shutting with a click. “Okay, so what the fuck??” 

“Good to see you’re back to normal.” Kai grins cheekily, the lift doors shutting before starting to move. 

“Yeah, well. Only so much I can do as an honorary ninja, right?” He has the decency to look sheepish. “So explain? Please?”

He hesitates briefly, a solemn look on his face. “Lloyd and the rest are going to help guard you. We’re taking shifts. I got the short straw, so I have to do it in the mornings.” His tiny grumble doesn’t escape your notice.

If you were being completely honest, you’re still somewhat rattled from last night. As soon as your head hit the pillow, you passed out from exhaustion. Getting out of bed however, was a different matter altogether. Upon opening your eyes, your entire plan was ‘fuck it, we ball’ . So far, it’s a success.

“Just an iced americano for me, thanks.” You tap your card against the card reader grouchily, ignoring Kai’s cheery thank you . “Oh please, you’re getting a sweet deal. If not for Cole, you’d probably be paying for our guard duty.” 

You chuckle softly at that, a hint of warmth spreading through you despite the tension that lingers in your chest. The barista hands you your drinks, Kai instantly taking a huge swig of his before wincing at the brain freeze that hits. 

He waves a dismissive hand at your snickering. The walk to your lecture is filled with endless chatter about his past, how he’d been found by Master Wu ( you’d shuddered at how creepy it was - imagine following a stranger because he promised you powers. Cult much? ) and how he’d first met Cole. 

Which then led to the question - “Are you his soulmate?”

Ah.

You choke. To be fair, it was only a matter of time before someone asked. However, you thought it’d been lowkey enough. Apparently not. 

“Would you believe me if I said no?” You lift your head to meet Kai’s gaze. 

He stares back with a flat expression, the corner of his lips twitching up into a hint of a disbelieving smile. A beat passes. “Yeah, I thought so,” you sigh, hanging your head. “It hasn’t been that long since we found out. It’s been like, what. A couple weeks? A month?”

Kai pauses mid-sip. “A month?” 

“I asked him not to tell anyone. To be fair though, he didn’t seem eager to do so in the first place. This is between you and me though, got it?” You warn, poking a finger to his chest with narrowed eyes.

He raises his hands in surrender. “Whatever you say. I’m just a guard after all. What am I good for?” 

“I dunno. You’ll get there someday, Wang .” You shrug, sharing a laugh at his fake name. 

The view changes from bustling streets and shops to the campus interior, notice boards in every hallway, and students rushing to their next class. “Well, this is where my shift ends.” 

“Wha-?”

A loud greeting draws your attention, finally noticing Nya in the sea of students. She wades through the crowd, greeting her brother with a smile. “Hey sis. Have fun in class. Oh, and if anyone asks, you’re Sapphire Fire, and I’m Wang Fire.”

She blinks. Looking from her brother to you, you can only shake your head helplessly. “I already got my student card.” 

“Change it again!” He calls out as he walks off, the students automatically moving out of his way as if he’s parting the Red Sea. 

She glances at you again, her confused expression almost drawing out a laugh. However, you manage to suppress it, masking it with a blank expression. “What Wang Fire wants, he gets,” you say nonchalantly, walking into the classroom.

You don’t have to turn to spot the baffled look in her eyes, making a beeline for the seats near the open windows. Nya sits down next to you, setting down her stuff and taking out a laptop. 

“Oh.” You blink. “You’re like, actually doing this.”

She scoffs playfully. “Of course I am! Granted, I’ve already gotten a degree, but who’s to say you can’t have more, right?”

She has a point. Shrugging it off, your smile only grows wider when Holly comes in through the door. She raises a hand in a wave, pausing briefly when she sees who’s next to you. Nya looks up from her laptop, glancing between you and Holly before offering her a friendly nod. 

Holly hesitates for a moment, making her way over when you gesture for her to join you. “Holly, this is…”

“Sapphire Fire.” Nya holds out her hand in a fist bump, and it takes all the willpower you have in you to not choke. “Nice to meet ‘ya! I was in a different course of study — Robotics, but I changed my mind and so, here I am.”

“Robotics?” Holly echoes, raising her brows in awe. “That must take a lot of brainpower.”

“Believe me,” Nya sighs, leaning back in her seat, “it doesn’t make up for the lack in the emotional intelligence sector.”

“Right,” you manage to say, nodding seriously. “Robotics.”

The professor arrives looking as if he’s just been through hell and back, with his crumpled shirt and stained coffee mug that he slams down onto the table. “Look,” he begins, his voice tinged with exhaustion, “I’ve got a bad headache and took painkillers, so this class will end when I do. Or when I pass out.” 

As the three of you step out of the classroom thirty minutes later, Nya stretches her arms dramatically, a grin tugging at her lips. "Well, that was... enlightening. I think I’ve learned more about painkillers and how to hide treats from your dog than whatever he was supposed to teach."

Holly chuckles, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "Honestly, I’m not sure I even remember the topic. Did he say something about our project? Or was that during the part where he stared into the void for five minutes straight?"

“Probably both,” you reply, your voice dry. “But hey, at least it wasn’t a total waste of time.” You nod toward Nya. “I got a new partner out of it.”

Nya smirks, nudging you lightly with her elbow. “Lucky you.”

Holly claps her hands together. “Speaking of the project, we should get started before the deadline creeps up on us. How about we go to a cafe? We can brainstorm over coffee and snacks. It’ll be fun!”

You blink at the suggestion, an unexpected tightness settling in your chest. For a moment, images of the previous night flash through your mind. The dark warehouse, the lingering sense of being watched… Your smile falters, and you shake your head slowly. "No cafes for now," you say, your tone light but your smile a little forced. "I’m... just not feeling it."

Nya glances at you, her eyes narrowing slightly as she picks up on the unspoken tension. She gives you the briefest of nods, a silent acknowledgment that speaks more than she could ever say out loud.

Holly shrugs casually. "No problem. The library it is, then. They’ve got some pretty nice study rooms if we can snag one.”

“Great idea,” Nya chimes in, her tone breezy. “Let’s head there now before it fills up.”

As you walk across campus, the two of them fall into easy conversation. Holly asks Nya more about her previous coursework and Nya playfully downplays her achievements. You’re grateful for the distraction, letting their chatter wash over you as you focus on the rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath your shoes. Still, every so often, you find yourself glancing over your shoulder, your senses on edge.

I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I have Nya with me.

When you reach the library, Holly leads the way to a study room near the back. “This one’s perfect,” she declares, setting her bag down on the table. “Plenty of space, decent lighting, and no weird coffee smells.”

“Plus,” Nya adds, dropping into a chair, “it’s way quieter too. Fewer distractions.”

You offer a small smile, settling into a chair as well. “Yeah. This works.”

As the three of you start discussing the project, Nya subtly shifts the conversation to keep things light, steering clear of anything that might put you on edge. Holly occasionally chimes in with an idea, while you assign yourself the task of scribbling down all the ideas put forth no matter how nonsensical.

There’s no such thing as a ridiculous idea, only idiots who rule them out before even trying. 

The memory of your mother saying it to your younger self with a playful grin makes you smile. You can almost hear her voice, teasing and warm.

But the smile doesn’t last. The image of her in your mind changes, her expression clouded with worry, her voice strained the last time you saw her, three years ago. You remember the way she hugged you tightly, like she was trying to anchor you to the world, and the quiet crack in her voice as she whispered, “Stay safe, okay?”

Your hand pauses mid-scribble. You swallow hard, forcing yourself to focus on the present, on the steady rhythm of Holly’s voice and Nya’s occasional quips. You can’t go down that rabbit hole. Not now.

The door to the study room bursts open, startling all three of you. To you unadulterated horror, Abby strides in, her blonde curls bouncing as she gasps dramatically. “Oh my god, you’re here! ”

The last time you remember seeing her was when you’d left her hanging to answer all the questions people had rushed to ask in the food court. Every time you saw her after that, you’d hightailed it out of her sight to avoid being dragged for another round of socialisation.

You barely have time to react before she plops down in the empty chair next to you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The change in atmosphere is immediate; her bubbly presence feels like a spotlight, and you can practically feel Nya and Holly stiffen at her sudden intrusion.

“I knew it!” Abby exclaims, leaning in so close you instinctively lean back. “You were hanging out with Cole yesterday, weren’t you? The Earth Ninja? You can’t even deny it, my friend saw you! What’s going on? Are you, like, his secret girlfriend or something?”

Your brain short-circuits for a moment as she barrels on, her questions coming rapid-fire.

“Or wait. Oh my god, is he your soulmate? That would be so epic! Like, imagine being soulmates with one of the ninja. You have to tell me everything. How did you even meet him? Was it super romantic? Do the others know?”

“Abby,” you manage to say, your voice a little sharper than intended. “This is a study session.”

“Oh, right!” she chirps, completely unfazed. She turns to Nya and Holly with a bright smile. “Hi! I’m Abby. I’m sure she’s told you all about me.”

Holly blinks, clearly taken aback, while Nya raises an eyebrow. “Can’t say she has,” Nya replies dryly, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. The corner of her lips is raised, a hint of amusement in her eyes as she watches you flounder for a proper response.

Undeterred, Abby continues. “Well, now you’ve met me! Anyway, you have to spill. What’s it like hanging out with the ninja? Do they, like, train all day? And Cole, he seems like the brooding type, but I bet he’s a total softie, right? Or am I way off?”

You glance at Nya, who’s looking at Abby like she’s trying to decide whether to laugh or walk out. Holly shifts uncomfortably in her seat, clearly unsure how to handle the whirlwind of energy that has descended on your quiet study session.

“Abby,” you say again, this time more firmly. “We’re trying to get work done.”

“Oh, right, right,” she says, waving a hand dismissively. “But seriously, we have to talk later. Like, over coffee or something. You can’t keep this ninja thing to yourself forever.”

You sigh, casting an apologetic glance at Nya and Holly. “Sure.” The word slips out before you can stop it, and Abby’s face lights up in triumph, making you immediately regret it. “Just... not right now. We’ve got work to do.”

“Fine, fine,” she says, standing and nudging your arm with a playful grin. “One quick thing, though. Do me a favor and let Kai know I think he’s, like, ridiculously hot, would you?”

Nya’s snort bursts out so loud and sudden it’s as if she’s set off a fire alarm. Heat creeps up your neck to the tips of your ears, and you stubbornly avoid meeting her eyes, instead fixing your gaze anywhere else. Forcing a nod, you mumble, “I’ll… pass on the message.”

Abby beams, clearly satisfied with your response. “Perfect! You’re the best. I’ll catch you later!” She waves dramatically as she saunters out of the room, leaving behind the faint scent of expensive perfume.

The door closes with a soft click , and you exhale, shoulders sagging as if someone just turned off a pressure valve. “Oh my god.”

Nya wastes no time. “So…” she drawls, leaning forward with a sly grin. “First Cole, now Kai? What exactly are you doing with your time, Miss ‘I’m Just a Regular Student’ ?”

You glare at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you don’t ?” Her grin widens. “Because according to Abby, you’ve been gallivanting around with the Earth Ninja, who, by the way, she thinks is your soulmate .” She emphasizes the word with a dramatic wiggle of her eyebrows, earning a groan from you.

Holly looks up from her notes, utterly perplexed. “Wait, what? Soulmate? I thought we were talking about the project?”

“Exactly! That’s what we’re talking about!” You jump on Holly’s confusion like a lifeline, desperate to change the subject.

But Nya isn’t letting you off the hook that easily. “Oh, sure, the project . Because that’s why your ears turned redder than Kai’s fire when Abby mentioned Cole.” She pokes your arm, snickering. “Or was it when she called Kai ‘super hot’ ?”

I’m. I’m going to kill myself.

You drop your head onto the table with a groan. “I am begging you to stop.”

“Fine, fine.” Nya’s voice is laced with mock pity. “I’ll stop… for now. But seriously, you and Cole? I mean, I wouldn’t have guessed, but hey, stranger things have happened.”

Your head snaps up, ready to protest, but the teasing twinkle in her eyes makes you stop short. 

“I hate you,” you mutter half-heartedly, which only makes her laugh harder.

The rest of the discussion continues without any more hindrances, though the occasional student that passes by looks in with interest. You try to ignore them to the best of your ability, but it feels as if you're being poked and prodded all over by needles like you’re an experimental subject.

“Are you busy after this?” Nya asks as you gather your things. Holly had left a short while ago to cook dinner for her family, bidding you both a rushed goodbye after she got the text. “If not, wanna join us for dinner? I think it’d be better than randomly having someone else guard you for a bit.”

Her words are lighthearted and joking, but it’s the feigned nonchalance that makes you sigh internally. Yes, you’re shaken more than you’d like to admit, but not so fragile as to need pity. However, a sudden thought makes you pause. 

“...Who’s paying?”

— — — — — 

“I’d like the A5 Wagyu please. With caviar. And some truffle fries. And a coke.” 

Jay watches on in fascination as you rattle off your order to the waiter who nods politely, a newfound respect in his gaze. “You’re a heathen,” he murmurs in awe.

Cole merely shakes his head. “Really? You had to do all that?”

Shooting him a glare, you cross your arms and take a sip of water. “Look, if I knew we were going to some fancy upscale restaurant, I would’ve at least had some time to prepare! Instead, you let me almost be turned away at the door.” Gesturing to his suit and tie, you point at your own ratty jeans and thin beige cardigan. 

Compared to him, you look like a troll from under a bridge. 

“You’re fine,” Cole dismisses with a wave of his hand. “Besides, I didn’t even know you were coming. If anything, blame Jay. He’s the one who went in without you.”

Your lips part, a retort ready, but you pause, shifting your gaze to the blue ninja. He offers you a sheepish smile that does absolutely nothing to disarm your glare. “You’re so right,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him.

Jay flinches dramatically, clutching Nya’s arm like she’s a human shield. To your satisfaction, she does nothing to defend him. Instead, she pointedly pries his hand off and slides her seat a little farther away, the subtle shift making him gape at her in betrayal.

The look on his face is almost enough to make you grin. Almost.

When Nya invited you out for dinner, you expected something low-key. Chen’s Noodle House, maybe, or a casual diner. You were not expecting the five-star hotel looming in front of you when she pulled up, handed her car keys to the valet, and stepped out as though this were her usual Tuesday night. It was not, in fact, a usual Tuesday night for you .

Jay had been waiting outside with his signature bright smile, waving enthusiastically before offering Nya his arm. They both strolled in ahead of you, leaving you momentarily frozen in your tracks. The building’s gleaming exterior, the perfectly dressed doorman, and the elegant guests filtering inside made you feel as out of place as a plastic cup at a royal banquet.

You’d ducked into the bathroom to freshen up, splashing cold water on your face in hopes of shaking off your discomfort. But when you finally made your way to the reception desk, you were promptly halted by a woman with a polite but icy smile.

“I’m sorry, miss, but we can’t admit you without a reservation,” she said, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Stammering out Nya’s name hadn’t helped either. She and Jay were already inside, and the receptionist clearly wasn’t about to take your word for it. Frustrated and a little humiliated, you’d stepped aside, contemplating texting them when a familiar figure strode into the lobby.

Cole.

Dressed to the nines in a sleek tuxedo, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced by an air of quiet confidence, he barely had to glance at the receptionist before gesturing toward you. “She’s with me.”

The change in the woman’s expression was almost comical, her polite frostiness melting into something approaching genuine warmth as she hurriedly nodded.

Now, as you sit across from the guilty pair, you’re determined to make the most of this luxurious dinner. It doesn’t matter who’s footing the bill, as long as it isn’t you. They’ve seated you next to Cole in a private dining room on the upper floor of the restaurant. Walking up the grand staircase earlier had made you feel even more exposed, especially with the envious stares following your every move.

Thankfully, Cole had fallen into step beside you, his solid presence acting as a shield. His casual demeanor somehow grounded you, even as you caught whispers of admiration from the patrons below.

A few more seats remain empty, presumably for the others. Just as you take a sip of water, the door slides open. You glance over, expecting the rest of the ninja to arrive, only for a man in a wheelchair to roll into the room.

It takes a second for your brain to process the face you’ve only ever seen in photos that Holly’s shoved into your face a number of times.

You choke on your water.

Cole reacts first, leaning toward you with concern etched on his face. “Hey, you okay?” he asks, his hand hovering near your arm like he’s ready to help if needed. Despite his worried tone, the corners of his mouth twitch slightly, betraying a hint of amusement at the spectacle you’re making.

Jay, on the other hand, wastes no time being dramatic. “ooOOoo!” he exclaims, his voice a mix of teasing and exaggerated awe. “First time seeing a genius in person?”

“Jay!” Nya hisses, smacking his shoulder hard enough to make him flinch. “Don’t be rude.”

You cough into your napkin, trying to regain some semblance of composure as the heat in your face intensifies. “I’m fine,” you croak, your voice raspy.

Your gaze darts to the man in the wheelchair, who has now paused by the table, watching you with a small, bemused smile.

“Cyrus Borg,” he says, introducing himself with a polite nod. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“Same,” you manage, still reeling from the surreal moment.

Before you can recover fully, Nya chimes in with a smile that’s far too innocent to be trusted. “She’s a new friend of ours. Actually,” she adds, tilting her head slightly, “she’s with Cole .”

Your head snaps toward her so fast you nearly give yourself whiplash. “I’m sorry, what?”

Nya shrugs, all false nonchalance, though her grin betrays her.

Cyrus raises an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between Nya, Jay, and Cole. “I see,” he says finally, his tone entirely too neutral for your liking. “Well, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Cole groans softly, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Ignore them,” he whispers to you, leaning closer so only you can hear.

You nod, trying to match his seriousness, but the proximity catches you off guard. He’s close. Too close. Close enough that you catch the faint scent of cologne, subtle but warm, and for a brief, unbidden moment, you find yourself thinking that he cleans up surprisingly well.

“Thanks,” you mutter, forcing yourself to look away.

Jay leans forward, clearly relishing the chaos. “So, Cole, how’s it feel knowing you’re—”

“Don’t,” Cole warns, cutting him off with a sharp glare that only makes Jay grin wider.

Cyrus clears his throat, drawing everyone’s attention back to him. “I take it you’ve all ordered?”

You stifle a laugh as Cole sighs heavily. “You could say that.”

“So, I hear that you wanted to meet with me about something? Pixel didn’t give me many details. How can I help you?” 

You raise a hand before any of them speak, blinking as your gaze darts between them. “Sorry, but how do you guys know each other…?” 

“We saved him from getting devoured by a digital Overlord.” Jay answers simply, picking up a piece of bread and munching on it. 

“Oh.” Your hand slowly lowers. “Okay. Cool.”

Just your average ninja stuff I guess.

“Yes, that’s right.” Cyrus chuckles. “I’ve been helping them out ever since. I can never express just how grateful I am for their assistance and for saving my life.”

“Very cool.” Deciding to just accept it as is, you proceed to spread some of the fancy butter onto your own baguette slice. 

“Cyrus, there’s a new threat.” Cole says, his voice somber. It makes the man lean forward, his elbows on the table as he listens intently. “They stole the Scroll of Fate.” The mention of it makes everyone pause, the only sound echoing through the room being your oblivious munching. 

You glance around the table, realizing everyone else is either staring at Cole or frozen mid-motion. Except for Jay, who’s still nibbling on his bread, but even he looks mildly concerned.

“Wait, what?” Cyrus’s brows knit together as he leans closer. “The Scroll of Fate ? That’s—”

“Exactly why we called this meeting,” Cole interrupts, his tone firm. He leans back slightly, arms crossed over his chest. “The scroll is gone. We don’t know who took it, but we do know they’re not stopping at just one. It happened at the museum, when everyone else was evacuating.”

Cyrus straightens in his seat, the gears in his mind visibly turning. “Where’s Lloyd?” he asks. “Shouldn’t he be here for this?”

“He’s handling another matter,” Cole replies, his voice steady. “He asked me to brief you guys first. Right now, we need to focus on figuring out where the scroll went, and how to stop whoever’s behind this.”

Your gaze flickers between them, trying to keep up with the conversation. So far, you’re not doing very well.

Jay pipes up. “So… we’re assuming this isn’t just some random burglary? Like, someone actually knew what they were taking?”

“Exactly.” Cole nods grimly. “They knew where to find it, and they knew its importance. Which means they probably know about the others.”

This catches your attention, even as you try to stay inconspicuous. You set your bread down, feeling the need to ask. Your voice comes out quieter than intended. “Why is it so important?”

All eyes turn to you, making you instantly regret speaking up. But Cyrus answers in their stead with a measured and calm tone, like a teacher explaining something profound to a curious student.

“There are four scrolls in total,” he begins, folding his hands together. “The Scroll of Fate, which was stolen from the museum, and three others: the Scroll of Destiny, the Scroll of Dreams, and the Scroll of Desire. Together, they form a map — a guide to a treasure hidden long ago. A treasure so dangerous, it must never fall into the wrong hands.”

Your stomach drops slightly at the gravity in his tone. A treasure? Of course, there’s a treasure involved. Why wouldn’t there be?

“I’ve heard of them before,” Nya chimes in, cutting through the tension. She leans forward, eyes narrowed. “Master Wu talked about them once. He said they weren’t just some random artifacts. He called them ‘keys’ to something that could change the world. And if someone’s already got their hands on one…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but the weight of her words hangs heavily in the air. You shift uncomfortably in your seat. Even now, you’ve no idea why you’re a part of this conversation. If not for Cole whose gaze falls on you every now and then, you’d probably have bolted out of the room ages ago. 

Cole clears his throat, drawing the group’s attention back to him. “There’s more,” he says, glancing briefly in your direction before continuing. “When we tracked the thief to their hideout the other night, we found… something else. A photo.”

The word makes you freeze mid-motion. A photo?

Cole’s voice remains steady, but there’s a weight to his tone that sends a ripple of tension through the room. “It was a picture of—”

“Of me,” you interrupt softly. Every pair of eyes in the room shift toward you, and your stomach churns at the sudden scrutiny. The fork in your hand feels heavier, and your grip tightens reflexively as a wave of unease rolls over you. 

For a moment, you don’t dare look up, but the silence feels suffocating. From the corner of your eye, you see Cyrus frowning, his brows knitting together in a mix of confusion and concern. The others exchange quick glances, their unease palpable.

Out of the corner of your vision, Cole shifts in his seat, and a moment later, you feel the warmth of his hand sliding over yours under the table. His fingers curl gently around yours, steady and deliberate, offering a silent reassurance. 

The small gesture anchors you, grounding you in the chaos. You keep your gaze on the table, your knuckles whitening under his palm, but the tension in your chest loosens ever so slightly. 

Cole continues, his voice measured. “We don’t know why it was there or who took it, but it’s clear whoever is behind this isn’t just after the scrolls.” His words are for the group, but you can feel his thumb briefly brushing against your knuckles, a barely perceptible motion meant only for you.

His hand stays over yours, grounding your tense self in the thoughts that start to swirl in your mind again like a hurricane. His thumb brushes over your skin every once in a while, helping to relax you somewhat. 

Jay grumbles around a mouthful of bread. “Great. As if our lives weren’t already exciting enough.” 

Kai, who’d entered sometime during Cyrus’s explanation, shoots him a look, but Cyrus is too deep in thought to notice. “If they’re after all four scrolls,” Cyrus says slowly, “then we need to figure out where the other three are, and fast.”

“What do we know about the thief?” Nya asks, ever practical. “Did they leave anything behind? A clue, a trace, anything ?”

Cole shakes his head, his frustration evident. “Nothing. It was a clean job. Whoever they are, they’re good.” His grip tightens ever-so-slightly, and the hint of frustration in his gaze elicits an odd flutter in your chest.

Nya’s voice pulls you back into the conversation. “We’ll need to divide up. If they’ve already got one, they won’t stop until they find the others. We can’t afford to waste time.”

Jay raises a hand, as if he’s in a classroom. “Uh, quick question. What happens if they do get all four?”

Cyrus’s expression darkens. “Then whoever holds the scrolls will hold unimaginable power. Enough to reshape reality itself.”

The silence that follows is deafening.

Cole’s voice cuts through the heavy air. “Which is why we can’t let that happen. Not on our watch.”

Everyone nods in agreement, their determination palpable. You, on the other hand, pick up your baguette slice again and take another bite, hoping the carbs will somehow make all of this easier to digest.

Thankfully, a knock on the door interrupts the tension, signalling the arrival of your food. The sight of the waiters carrying plates and bowls immediately lifts your spirits. You sit up straighter, the truffle fries you ordered placed neatly between you and Cole. He lets go of your hand, sending you a small smile. 

You return it.

“Good choice,” Kai remarks, gesturing to your plate of pre-cut steak with his fork while chewing on a mouthful of spaghetti. “As long as it’s not on our card, that is.”

You smirk, shrugging innocently. “In my defense, I thought Jay was paying.”

The ninja in question looks up sharply with narrowed eyes, shaking his head disapprovingly before going back to mauling his lobster.

Cyrus chuckles, his gaze warm as he waves off the comment. “Don’t worry, dear. I’ve grown quite used to Kai’s appetite. Feel free to order anything else. After all, I’m sure you’ll be around for quite a while.”

At that, Cole, who’s mid-sip of his drink, suddenly chokes. The spluttering noise draws everyone’s attention, and you instinctively glance at him, alarmed. His fist thuds lightly against his chest as he recovers, his expression caught between embarrassment and discomfort.

“Careful, Cole,” Nya quips, her eyes brimming with mischief as she glances between you both. “We wouldn’t want to lose you over a glass of water.”

You notice the faint pink tint creeping up his neck and the tips of his ears, and before you can stop yourself, the thought flashes through your mind: Cute.

The realization jolts you. Nope. No way. Absolutely not. You hurriedly shove a piece of steak into your mouth, focusing intently on chewing as if your life depends on it. The warmth crawling up your neck is most certainly from the food. Definitely.

As the others dive into casual conversation about strategies and possible leads, a nagging thought begins to form in your mind. You swallow your mouthful, reaching hesitantly for a fry before voicing it.

“But…” you start, your tone hesitant, yet cutting through the chatter. All eyes turn to you, making your palms slightly clammy. “What do the scrolls have to do with me?”

The question hangs in the air, and you immediately feel the burden of everyone’s attention. Cyrus exchanges a glance with Cole, his brow furrowing in thought. The silence stretches just long enough to make you regret asking, but Cyrus finally speaks, his tone measured.

“That,” he says slowly, “is precisely what we need to figure out.”

— — — — — 

The valet holds out the keys to Cole. He accepts them with a quick thank you, sliding into the driver’s seat of the car that’s been brought around. You blink, momentarily confused.

“Since when do you drive?” you ask, tentatively sliding into the passenger seat and shutting the door behind you.

He waits for you to pull on your seatbelt before smoothly maneuvering the car out of the pickup area. “I got my license pretty early,” he says with a glance in your direction, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “It was kinda necessary, y’know. Saving the world isn’t exactly convenient without a dragon to ride on.”

You mull this over for a second, nodding as you reply, “Fair.”

Your gaze flickers to the fuzzy dice hanging from his rearview mirror, the cluster of coupon cards, parking tickets, and drink stamp cards stuffed into the cup holder. It’s a little messy, but somehow it feels fitting. Struggling to suppress a grin, you lean back in your seat, turning your attention to the buildings flashing past the window.

All night, Cole’s been a perfect gentleman. It’s a side of him you never thought you’d see, let alone experience firsthand. When dinner had wrapped up, he’d offered to drive you home before you could even figure out a plan. The memory of Jay crooning at the table, much to Nya’s exasperation, flashes in your mind, and you can’t help the small smirk that escapes you.

Kai had claimed he needed his beauty sleep and left early. Cyrus offered to give you a ride, but Cole intervened before you could accept. At first, you’d assumed he’d summon Rocky, but instead, he’d surprised you by walking over to the valet stand.

The air conditioning is a little too cold for your liking. With a quick flick of your wrist, you adjust the dial, then reach for the radio. As soon as you press the button, the Bluetooth system lights up, a calm voice announcing, “Device connected. Playing most recent playlist.”

The first few notes of a song fill the car, and you freeze. It’s one of your favorite songs, the kind that makes you want to hum along or drum your fingers against your leg.

You glance at Cole, who remains focused on the road, completely unfazed. “Your playlist?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Why?” He glances at you briefly before returning his gaze to the empty street ahead.

“No reason,” you murmur, a little thrown off. The songs continue to play, one after the other, all suspiciously aligned with your taste.

A comfortable silence settles over the two of you, broken only by the low hum of the music. The streets are quieter than usual, the bustle of the day long gone.

“You know,” you say after a while, “I haven’t really had a chance to explore Ninjago City yet. I only moved here right before university started, so it’s been classes, unpacking, and not much else.”

Cole hums in thought, tapping his fingers lightly against the steering wheel. “That’s a shame. The city’s pretty great once you know your way around.”

You nod, expecting the conversation to end there. But instead, he glances at you again, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

“How about a little detour?” he says, steering the car down a different street without waiting for your answer.

“What kind of detour?” you ask, shooting him a suspicious look.

“The kind that doesn’t end with you sitting in your apartment wondering what you’re missing,” he replies, his tone teasing.

You roll your eyes but don’t protest, curiosity bubbling in your chest. As the car takes a turn onto a quieter road, the city lights cast a warm glow over the dashboard.

Cole takes you through the quieter streets of the city, the hum of the car blending seamlessly with the music playing softly in the background. As he drives, the buildings around you begin to shift. Towering skyscrapers give way to cozier streets lined with shops and cafés, their warm lights still glowing faintly despite the late hour.

“That,” he says, pointing toward a modest little bakery with a bright yellow awning, “is where Jay convinced me to try his favorite pastries. I think he was trying to cheer me up after a rough mission. Ended up eating half a dozen éclairs because he dared me to. Regretted it for a week.”

You snort. “Why am I not surprised? And did it work?”

“Cheering me up? Yeah, somehow it did.” He grins, the memory clearly amusing him. “Although I’m pretty sure he just wanted to see if I’d actually do it.”

The car turns onto another street, this one quieter, almost deserted. He nods toward a dimly lit dojo. “That’s where Sensei took us when we were still figuring out how to work as a team. Spent hours there sparring, tripping over ourselves, and arguing about who was doing what wrong.”

You arch an eyebrow. “And now you’re all perfectly in sync?”

Cole chuckles, the sound low. “Let’s just say we’ve come a long way since then.”

As you pass a park, he slows the car down and gestures toward a small playground tucked into the corner. “There,” he says, his voice softening. “That’s where we helped a kid find his mom. He got stuck at the top of the jungle gym and was too scared to come down. Lloyd climbed up to get him while I held the ladder steady. The kid hugged us both like we’d just saved the world.”

A smile tugs at your lips. “You kinda did, in his eyes.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs, but there’s a faint warmth in his expression.

The car glides into a more bustling area, neon lights casting colorful reflections onto the windshield. He points out a karaoke bar, shaking his head with a small laugh. “Never let Kai drag you in there. Trust me.”

“Why? Is he a bad singer?” you ask, intrigued.

“More like he’s too good. He gets way too into it. Once, he jumped off the stage mid-song to serenade someone in the audience.”

You burst into laughter, the mental image too vivid to ignore. “Let me guess. Was it a complete stranger?”

“Yup. She loved it, though,” he says, chuckling.

As the car continues its journey, Cole shares more little anecdotes. Each one paints a picture of his life before you’d met him. 

Each one makes you smile. 

Eventually, the car takes a turn onto a quieter road, and Cole slows down, pulling into a lookout point overlooking the city. The skyline stretches out before you, a sea of twinkling lights against the dark night sky.

“I used to come here a lot,” he admits, his tone quieter now. “Back when I was still trying to figure out my place on the team. It helped me clear my head.”

You glance over at him, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the dashboard lights. “And now?”

“Now I don’t come here as often,” he says, his gaze fixed on the view. “But every now and then, it’s nice to remember.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence stretching comfortably between you. The distant hum of the city below mingles with the faint music still playing in the background, and you find yourself leaning back, taking it all in.

“This city’s pretty amazing,” you say softly.

Cole turns to look at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It is. You just need the right person to show you around.”

“Right,” there’s a cheekiness in your grin, holding up your wallet. “How much do I owe you for the tour guide fee then? I’ve got five dollars to my name and a whole lot of boba stamp cards.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I’m good, thanks. Maybe next time you can order in for game night.”

“Only if you beat me. Don’t you remember? Loser pays for the meal.” You fake a sympathetic smile, patting his shoulder. “Maybe next time you’ll learn that Kai and I? We’re unstoppable.”

“Tell that to Jay,” he snorts, leaning back against the driver’s seat as the city glimmers before you. The easy banter fades into a calm quiet, the serenity of the night settling in. You glance out the window, but the reflection of your face in the glass makes your stomach twist.

You press your palms against your thighs, the cool fabric of your jeans grounding you. “Cole?”

He turns to you, his expression shifting into one of quiet curiosity. “Yeah?”

You hesitate, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of your bag. “I’ve been meaning to say this… but I don’t think I’ve had the guts.”

His brow furrows slightly. “What’s on your mind?”

You exhale, long and slow, feeling the weight of your thoughts pressing down. “That day when you found the photo of me… I haven’t felt the same since. It’s like I’m constantly looking over my shoulder now, waiting for something to go wrong.”

Cole’s face softens, his eyes searching yours. “Hey—”

“I’m grateful, okay?” you interrupt, your words tumbling out faster than you intended. “For you, for the team, for everything you’ve done to protect me. But there are moments—” You falter, your voice cracking slightly. “There are moments where I feel so small. Like no matter what I do, I’m being watched. Judged. Scrutinized. I don’t even feel like myself anymore.”

Cole reaches out, his hand brushing yours lightly. “I get it,” he says quietly. “It’s a lot to handle. But you’re stronger than you think. You’re going to get through this.”

Something snaps inside you, and the words spill out before you can stop them. “But I’m not like you, Cole!” You pull your hand away, your voice louder than you intended. “I’m not a ninja. I’m not brave or strong or whatever you guys are. I just want a normal life — to go to school, to hang out with friends, to not worry about villains or warehouses or photos of me showing up out of nowhere!”

The hurt in his eyes is immediate, like you’ve struck him physically. His jaw tightens, and he glances away, his fingers curling around the steering wheel. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this,” he says softly, his voice barely audible.

Your chest tightens with regret as the words you’d thrown at him echo in your mind. Cole doesn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the skyline. When he finally speaks, his voice is measured, almost too calm. “You should get some rest. It’s been a long night.”

The faint smile he gives you doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and your stomach twists with guilt. “Cole—” you start, but he’s already shifting the car into gear, avoiding your gaze.

“It’s fine,” he says lightly, the edge of something unspoken in his tone. “Let’s get you home.”

The drive back is quieter than before, the comfortable silence replaced by something heavier. You sneak glances at him, but his expression is unreadable, his focus firmly on the road ahead.

When he pulls up in front of your apartment complex, he parks and steps out, walking around to open your door.

You step out, barely inches apart from his chest. His eyes are tinged with guilt and regret, and your heart sinks as you realize just how much your words must’ve affected him. He’s been supportive throughout everything, from assigning Nya and the rest to guard you, to tirelessly searching for the thief on top of his usual duties. And now, here you are, with the weight of your sharp words hanging in the air between you.

He takes a step back, waiting for you to enter the lift before he can leave. You take a few steps forward, but your feet feel like they’re glued to the pavement, each step away from him like a mistake you can’t undo. Your thoughts tumble over each other as you try to find the right thing to say, but nothing comes.

You slow to a halt, barely inches away from the lift, and glance back at him. He’s still standing by his car, watching you with that same patient, unreadable look on his face. No . You shake your head, your hands clenching into fists, frustration flooding your chest. I can’t just leave. Not like this.

Before you can second-guess yourself, your body moves faster than your brain can catch up. You turn and march back to him, a full-blown wave of mortification crashing over you as you approach. Your heart races as you find yourself wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your face into his shoulder in one swift motion.

A solid few seconds pass.

Why isn’t he hugging me back?

Panic sets in. You don’t dare to pull away. The heat in your ears burns like wildfire, and every muscle in your body screams for you to turn and run, anything to escape the embarrassment flooding through you. But you don’t. You stay. You can’t move.

Are you shitting me? Is he seriously not going to do anything?

The seconds feel like an eternity, but just as you start to feel like you might die of mortification, his arms finally wrap around you, pulling you into a gentle, reassuring hug.

Then, you realize something as his chest begins to move.

Is he… laughing?

The realisation hits you like a bolt of lightning, and before you can even think, you shove him off you in one swift move. Your cheeks flush pink, your eyes narrowing into a glare as he chuckles, clearly trying (and failing) to suppress his amusement.

“What the hell is so funny?” you snap, frustration rising in your chest. 

I’m going to stab this bitch and bury the body.

His smile is soft but undeniably teasing as he rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry, it’s just… I didn’t expect that.”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Well, I didn’t expect to—” You stop yourself, sighing as the words fall flat. It wasn’t exactly how you intended things to go, but here you are, standing in front of him like an embarrassed mess.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your voice quieter now, but the sincerity is there. “For snapping at you earlier… and for… you know, that.” You gesture between the two of you, feeling even more self-conscious now that the moment’s passed.

Cole’s smile softens, and he places a hand gently on your head, a comforting gesture that feels like a wave of calm washing over you. “It’s alright. Really. You’ve been through a lot, and I get it. I do.”

You scoff again, but this time it’s not out of anger. “I’m just not used to… all of this. I just want to live a normal life, you know? Go to school, hang out with friends, and not feel like I’m constantly under a microscope.”

Cole’s expression shifts, the teasing fading into something gentler, something understanding. “I get that. And you will. But we’re here for you, okay? We’re all in this together.”

You stare at him for a moment, the warmth of his words sinking in. There’s no judgment in his eyes, just a quiet assurance that makes your chest tighten.

“Thanks,” you say softly, still feeling a bit vulnerable. “For everything you’ve done for me. I know I don’t say it enough, but I really appreciate it.”

Cole nods, his smile returning, this time warmer, more genuine as your name falls from his lips. “Anytime.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

Taglist: @candyquokka @mossy-mika @em-100-blog @cursedreader @alicesmile1 @alexa24 @raegreenie4 @burdeningbitch @viennasthings @cadencannot @ml3czqo @nanasemo @certified-cole-simp @beescomet @theblindhag @mitbin24 @sweetlittlebumblebree @brooklyniswriting @cantbecreative @something-else3 @iinlovewithfictionalppl @itz-moonlight @jebesovovise @ryeheep @letthelightin2112 @classically-bored @clearlawyereaglewobbler @anajellyc @the-midnight-duck @fru1ty-bage3ls

[winchesterwild78]

Broken pt 2

Master List

Characters: Jensen x Reader (wife)

Warnings: fluff, angst, infertility, Endometriosis, death

A/N:  Idea given to me by @cheekygirl2309. This one is a little different than what I usually write. It has angst, lots of angst to start, and infertility issues. It's going to be a short series.

Minors DNI 18+

The next morning I woke up with a text and email from Jensen with flight information. I quickly packed and headed to the airport. My flight was scheduled to leave in a few hours, but I had to get through security and check in. 

I sent Jensen a text to let him know I was at the airport.

Me: I’m at the airport, waiting to board the plane. I can’t wait to see you. I love you baby.

Jensen: I can’t wait either. Y/N, I really am sorry for leaving you alone. I promise I’ll never do it again. 

Me: I know baby. We both had fault in this, it’s not all on you. We will make it right. I love you, I’m about to board. I’ll see you at the airport.

Jensen: I love you too, baby. I’ll be there with bells on.

I smiled as I looked at my phone. The emotional rollercoaster of the last 24 hours has been a true test of mine and Jensen’s relationship. One we almost failed. 

I sat on the plane and listened to music as we flew towards our destination. As the minutes ticked on I grew more anxious. This was the first time since our fight we would see each other. 

The plane landed and I started walking towards the exit. I scanned the airport and the people standing around waiting for their loved ones, and I saw him. Jensen, my Jensen  standing with a smile on his face and emerald eyes that glittered like morning dew. 

My heart fluttered. In that moment, seeing him standing there waiting for me with so much love in his eyes reminded me why I fell in love with him. He was and always will be my home, the love of my life. 

I smiled and ran through the crowd to his open arms. Our bodies collided as he scooped me up and held me tight. Our lips smashed onto each other and the kiss deep and needy, like it was the only thing giving us life at the moment. 

Every person, every noise in the airport melted away. His arms wrapped securely around me and his lips breathing life into me, into our love. 

All the pain and sorrow from the last few hours seemed to melt away. Sure, it was still there, but in that moment what really mattered was willingness to fight for us, for our marriage. 

Leaving the airport hand in hand Jensen couldn’t take his eyes off of me, or me off of him. We had work to do, but at least we were together to work on it. 

The next few days we settled into a routine. I would get up with Jensen, we would make breakfast together, he’d head to set and I’d either go with him or stay home, and when he got home we worked on us, on our marriage. The first night we made love after our fight we both cried. All the emotions, the pain, the hurt melted away and we fell in love all over again. 

A renewed commitment to each other. We talked about having a baby, and we both agreed to let things happen naturally. Jensen also suggested while I was there we both visit a doctor to see if there’s any reason I couldn’t get pregnant. 

I saw him trying, trying to fix what he, what we broke, and trying to make our dream of a family come true. 

I went with Jensen to set today. Everyone was happy to see me. They said Jensen isn’t himself when I’m not around. I looked over at him and he smiled but blushed too. 

“Alright guys, stop laying it on so thick. She doesn’t need to know what a sap she married.” 

I giggled and touched his arm, “Oh Jensen, I already knew.” I smiled and kissed him. 

Karl walked over and pulled me into a bear hug. “Glad to see ya, love. Hope you didn’t let him off the hook that easily.” I smirked, “You know I can’t resist his green eyes.” 

“I know love. Glad you two are working it out. You two are good for each other and that man is head over heels in love with you.” 

I smiled softly and looked over at Jensen bantering with the other cast members. I knew Karl was right. I’ve just been so wrapped up in not giving Jensen a child I lost sight of what we had. A home filled with love and joy and I have a husband who would move mountains to see me happy. 

I smiled at Karl, “Thanks Karl. For everything.” He nodded, “I’ve got you love.” 

I sat in a chair off to the side and watched Jensen in the scene. He was amazing in anything he did, but the way he played Soldier Boy was something profound. It’s like the character was made for him. 

By the time the director called for a wrap for the day it was well past 1am and I was exhausted. 

Everyone was talking about heading out to blow off some steam but Jensen was hesitant. 

I touched his arm, “Jens, if I wasn’t here what would you do?” He looked at me and I could tell he was nervous. 

“Babe, remember we need to talk about things. If you want to go then go. I’ll head back to the apartment and go to sleep. Please don’t stop living your life because I’m here. Baby, go. Go have fun. You deserve it.” 

Jensen smiled and placed a soft kiss on my lips, “Are you sure you don’t want to come too. You know they’d love to have you.” I touched his chest, “Maybe next time.” I kissed him again. 

We walked to his trailer so he could change and I grabbed my stuff. Jensen was riding with Karl and Antony, so Clif was driving me home. 

I arrived at the apartment, showered, changed and crawled into bed. Sleep taking hold almost instantly. 

Jensen came stumbling in about 4am. He was wasted. Karl was slightly drunk. They were trying to be quiet but they were so loud they woke me up. 

“Hey Karl, I’m gonna have a baby with her.” I heard Jensen slur out as I walked down the hallway. 

“That’s great mate. She’s gonna make some beautiful babies for you.” 

“Yeah. I’m lucky. I thought we were gonna break up, man. I can’t get her pregnant and we got into a huge fight.” 

I stepped into the living room just as Jensen was about to spill more about our recent fight. 

“Alright boys, time for bed. Karl, you take the guest room, and you Mr Ackles go get in my bed.” 

Jensen smirked, “Yes ma’am. Night Karl. I’m going to sleep with my wife. Maybe put a baby in her.” 

I shot him a look as Karl erupted in laughter. “Good luck, mate.” 

“Jensen, bed, now, and you too Karl. It’s too early in the morning to deal with this crap.” 

Jensen stumbled to our room and passed out on the bed halfway through taking off his shoes. I chuckled when I saw him. 

I removed his shoes, and jeans. Helped him get under the blankets and went to grab him some water and medicine to put by his bed. 

As I passed the guest room Karl was sitting on the side of the bed. “Hey love. Sorry he’s so drunk. He got really upset at the bar. Said he was a failure because he couldn’t give you the one thing you wanted, a baby. Just thought you should know he’s torturing himself over this.” “I had no idea. I’m going to make it right. Thank you for letting me know.” “Of course. He loves you deeper than I’ve ever seen him love anyone. You’re it for him and he’d move mountains to make you happy.” “I know, Karl. I am incredibly lucky to have him and I’m so proud to be his wife. Night Karl.” “Night Y/N.” 

I went back to our room and Jensen was asleep. Soft snores leaving his slightly parted lips. 

Crawling into bed I snuggled close to him. He woke slightly and pulled me close. “I love you Y/N. I can’t wait to give you a baby. You deserve everything.” 

“Shhh baby. Just sleep. We can talk about that later. I love you Jensen.” 

I placed a soft kiss on his cheek and heard soft snores again. I chuckled softly and drifted back to sleep. 

The next few weeks Jensen and I worked on our relationship. We both went to the doctor and he was given a clean bill of health. The doctor said I had endometriosis which caused scar tissue and would make it difficult, but not impossible to get pregnant. She said it would just take more time. 

Leaving the doctor I felt so defeated. I stared out the window as a tear slipped out. Jensen looked over and saw my body language. He took my hand, “Hey. It’s okay. She didn’t say we couldn’t get pregnant, she said it would just take more time.” 

“I know, Jensen. I just never thought it would be so difficult to have a baby. I’m so sorry, Jensen.” Tears fell fast and heavy. Jensen pulled the car over. He took my hand in his, and cupped my face with the other, “Shhh, baby don’t cry, please. We will figure this out. I promise baby. I’ll move mountains to make you happy.” “I know Jens.”

We drove the rest of the way home in silence. The doctor’s words replayed in my head. Once home I crawled in bed and just cried. Jensen came into the room and laid down beside me, pulling me close to him and holding me. 

No words were spoken between us for the rest of the night, Jensen just held me. I felt so broken.

The next few days I tried to do research on endometriosis and pregnancy. Depending on the amount of scar tissue can affect the ability to get pregnant. There are numerous treatment options that include surgery and IVF. 

Jensen was on set so I sent him a text.

Me: Hey baby just wanted to check in and tell you I’ve been doing some research. We have options and I can’t wait to talk to you about it. I’m sorry I’ve taken this so hard. I just wasn’t expecting to be told my body couldn’t do the one thing it was designed to do. I love you.

Jensen: Hey baby. Can’t chat long, back on set in a few. I understand why you’re upset. We will figure this out together. Whatever you need we will tackle it together. I love you sweetheart.

Me: I love you too Jens. I’ll talk to you tonight. I’m baking you a pie. 

Jensen: I can’t wait. 

A few hours later I had baked the pie, it was cooling on the stove and I had started cooking dinner. Jensen was due home in about an hour and I wanted dinner ready for him. He’d been putting in long hours on set, and helping me deal with the aftermath of the doctor appointment. He was definitely my rock. 

I had just turned on the stove when the phone rang. Looking at the caller ID I saw my sister’s name. 

“Hey sis. How are you?” I asked as I answered the phone. At first the line was silent. Then I heard her sob. “Hey, Abby, what’s wrong?” 

“Y/N, it’s…dad…he’s gone.” The world around me went dark, every sound sounded like I was underwater. “What?” I stuttered out.

Abby took a shaky breath, “Dad, he died. He got into a car accident and died on impact.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My dad, the first man I ever loved. The man who taught me how to dance, change a tire, how a husband and father should treat his family was gone. 

I couldn’t breathe. My legs gave out and I collapsed to the floor. My body was shaking with the primal sobs that left my mouth. The sounds leaving my body were full of pain and anguish. 

My body wouldn’t move from the floor. My phone was long forgotten, I didn’t know if Abby was still on the phone or not. 

The only thing I could make out between the tears that left my shattered body was Jensen coming through the front door. 

He took one look at me on the floor and bolted to my side. Grabbing me and pulling me into his arms, “Y/N, baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” I sobbed harder. 

I couldn’t talk. He held me tighter. Jensen knew something terrible had happened. The only thing I could muster out was “daddy”. Jensen knew instantly something happened to my father. 

Taking out his phone he called my mother. There was no answer, so he called Abby. “Abby, this is Jensen. I just got home and found Y/N on the floor, saying “daddy”, what happened, is your dad okay?” 

Abby told him what happened and Jensen’s heart broke. He knew how close my father and I were. When we started dating my dad sat Jensen down and had a long talk with him. Before Jensen asked me to marry him, he got my dad’s permission, and daddy gave it to him after another long talk about what it meant to be a husband. 

“Baby, I’ve got you. I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry baby.” He helped me up, and carried me to our bed. Laying me down he pulled a blanket over me and curled beside me. “Shhh baby. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.” 

I snuggled closer to him, my tears soaking his shirt, but being in his arms I felt safe. This loss hurt deeper than anything I’d ever experienced. Part of my soul was gone. One of the people responsible for my existence was now gone.

I was glad I had Jensen because I had no idea how to live my life, how to go on without my dad. Jensen softly kissed the top of my head as my crying started to subside. 

“I love you, Y/N. I’m so sorry baby.” He pulled me closer. I looked up at him, my eyes puffy and swollen from crying, “I love you too, Jensen.”

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[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 27 - My weird boyfriend’s friends are even weirder.

Summary: Y/N meets Izuku’s old classmates. It goes just as expected.

Warnings: Alcohol, swear words, Mineta

First Chapter Master List Potato support

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

New group chat: nipples!

Kaminari: Our meeting point is at the artificial beach resort in the centre of the city! Bring your swimsuits!

… Deku is typing…

Bakugou changed the name of the group chat: stupid extras meet up

Bakugou: Deku can’t swim right now you idiot

Kirishima changed the name of the group chat: Class A meetup!

Kaminari: No need to swim, we are just going to have a meal in the restaurant by the “sea”!

Iida: With all due respect, why do we need a fake beach when we have real ones?

Yao Momo: That’s a great question, Iida-kun!

Mineta: Easy answer; why the hell not?!

Bakugou: Who the fuck invited this perverted nutcase?!

Mineta: Well, thank you for your warm welcome, I’ve changed a lot since high school, you know. I am in a long-term relationship!

Bakugou: with your hand?

Kaminari: I’m crying lol

Sero: Good one, Blasty!

Todoroki: Why would he date his own hand?

Kaminari: Stop, I’m suffocating

Shinsou: Please, keep going

…. Deku is typing…

Kaminari: Mean!!!!

Shouji: Hello, I’m really happy to see you guys again! Kouda is coming too he’s just too shy to type into the chat!

Aoyama: I’m bringing cheese! 🧀 I can’t wait to see Deku’s nipples twinkling! ✨

Deku: Uhm… okay, yeah, I’ll make sure… to keep twinkling?

Kaminari: Also! Deku’s girlfriend is coming too!

Ashido: Duh! Wouldn’t be a real party without her!

Bakugou added Camie into the group chat

Camie: Midobabe, you're like, totally the sickest, no cap, 100% vibes, fr fr! Bruh, I’m like so pumped to link up with y’all, it’s gonna be litttttt!

Todoroki: I wasn’t about to wear a cap so that’s fine with me! I’m not sure about linking myself together with everyone, seems a little bit personal? And what is lit? Are we making a campfire?

… Deku is typing…

Bakugou: I’ll translate. Deku, you are super cool. I’m happy to see you guys, it’s gonna be awesome.

Camie: That’s the vibe! You’re my guy!

Bakugou: See you at the spot, bro!

Camie: Yeah, bro!

Kaminari: what the actual fuck, Bakugou?!

Eijirou: Katsuki is so talented, isn’t he? He can even speak this language!

Bakugou: I’ve told you already, it’s not a language, it’s slang!

Eijirou: No way that sorcery is in my mother tongue.

Todoroki: I’m interested in learning her way of speech. It’s fascinating!

Yaomomo: Please, don’t.

Camie: I’ll hit you with the knowledge, for real!

Todoroki: Much obliged! I remember some bits from the time we hung out! So… I'm so ready to level up, fam! Why do you hate caps, though?

… Deku is typing…

Bakugou: Okay, shut the fuck up, all of you, Deku has been trying to type for an hour.

Deku: Uhm… I’m on my way with Sweets! See you guys there!

~•🥦•~

“The man of the hour!” Kaminari yells out loud as you two come through a back door that’s decorated with a massive “reserved for private event!” sign.

“Yo, you're lookin' fire AF, like literally melting the whole place down." Camie, who was sprawled out on both Eijirou’s and Katsuki’s lap just a second ago (???!) jumps up into a sitting position. She scans you with her eyes, then smiles at you approvingly. “Your girl’s looking straight up slaying, like mad fine!"

“Uhm, thank you?” You’ve been with this group for 5 seconds and your whole face is already on fire. Great start.

“Ahh, let me introduce myself.” A massive guy with several arms and eyes on his body stands up and comes closer with a smaller person in tow.

“I am Shouji. This is my friend and old classmate Koda.”

“Hi.” He mumbles, as he stares at the floor; it looks like some kind of glass tile filled with actual sand. It’s quite cool.

“I’m so glad to meet you two! You’ve done so much for the society! I remember seeing a a few posters of you two around town! You’ve had some amazing projects!”

“Ahh, thank you.” Shouji speaks up for them both, then they go back to their place.

“Heyyy, what’s up?” Camie clings to your arms just as you sit down. “I’m Camie, your favorite blonde with all the vibes. Catch me vibin’ and keepin' it real!"

“Hello, nice to meet you too!” You mutter back.

Then you spot him; the man of your nightmares… Grape Juice.

“Lucky you are Izuku’s babe, I would snatch you in a heartbeat.”

You don’t need to react. Izuku does it for you.

Mineta gets thrown into the artificial ocean with the help of black whip.

“I did not want to do that. I’m so sorry, Mineta!” Izuku yells after the poor guy floating on the top of the water. No one really cares enough to get him out of there.

“Me and who?” Camie adds with a sigh.

“Good, now he can cool the fuck down.” Katsuki mutters as finally the group concentrates on Izuku, the reason of this sudden meet up.

“Oh, you’ll definitely be invited for a photoshoot with Vogue in the next few weeks. Hell damn, my face is melting off just from looking at you.” Mina adds with a proud little smile. “It’s so good to see you alive and well, Izuku.”

The mood shifts and the background chatter dies. It’s such a quick change, but somehow no one looks flustered by it; these people have been through a fucking war and they also fight for their lives every day hence they are capable to adapt extremely quickly to new situation. Honestly, it’s a little bit sad but you also feel so much respect for these people who can just roll with the punches and change up their whole plan in a matter of a milisecond if it’s needed.

This makes you remember one of the most eerie interviews you’ve ever seen; the one with Hawks, right after the war.

“We were nothing but war machines before the big war. Now we are broken pieces trying to find our way back to normalcy. I’ve served this country since I was a kid. It’s time for me to live out the childhood I’ve missed out on. Life is too short. Way too short. I don’t want to live my whole life wondering about the what ifs.“

That interview lived rent free in your head for months. Maybe it still lives in your head right now, maybe his quiet words were the reason why you jumped into the unknown when Kyoka told you about this flatmate deal; because life is too short to wonder about the what ifs. Sometimes, you need to be a kid to be able to cope as an adult.

“It has been… so long. Too long.” Ochako looks at Izuku like she’d seen a ghost, probably going through those memories she suppressed since the accident.

~•🥦•~

The day of “the fall”

Ochako was in another district when Izuku was defeated. She’ll forever hate herself for asking for a different district around that time; she was fed up with doing the same thing over and over again so she decided to move out of the main city for a few weeks to clear her mind.

Being a hero… comes with a lot of responsibility; and sometimes, humans crumble under that weight, even if they are not in the top three.

She still remembers the cries; the common folk in the small city staring at their phones or at the TV screens in the electric shops, crying, screaming, begging their god to let the young man live another day, another hour or even another minute.

Ochako should have been there. Fuck, she would have been there if she’s not on the other side of Japan. She could have stopped the rumble from suffocating his friend, hell, she could have stopped the villains before they got to their number one!

She’ll never tell Izuku about this. She’ll never tell Izuku how those few hours were the darkest few hours of her life. She’ll never tell Izuku she was ready to go after him and take him back to the land of living if needed. She’ll never tell Izuku any of that, because Izuku would cry for her, apologize to her for causing trouble instead of realizing how much his sole existence meant to her and to everyone else who lives in this country. Izuku will never truly understand his own worth, but that’s kind of what’s so precious about him.

Ochako went home with the first train. No one asked her questions because it was all on her face; the pain, the guilt, the desperation, the need to help, to redeem herself by taking as much weight as she can from Katsuki and Eijirou’s shoulders. When she arrived at Izuku’s agency, she was met with a bunch of tear streaked faces; staff, other heroes and most and foremost, the whole of class A.

“For Izuku.” Iida’s voice was stern as he shouted out to the group.

“For Izuku!” They all shouted back, in unision.

Ochako joined.

~•🥦•~

“Yeah, it still doesn’t feel real, you know. I thought I’m a goner. I thought I’ll never be able to save people again.” Izuku confesses. “When I was struck down, all I could think of was you guys, though. And Sweets. And my mum. All Might. All I could think about was my friends and my family, how much pain I just inflicted on them, how hard it will be for them to move on. But also, it made me realize how loved I am. How many friends I have. How… I am not the old “Deku” anymore. My name comes with a responsibility now. I am not just a flick of dust on my mother’s shelf. So I fought with Death itself. I fought and I won. It took me a while to find my old self again, but… here I am. Thank you, guys.”

“You know, I was never really worried for you.” Todoroki adds with a smile on his face. “You are Deku. There is nothing you can’t do. The same goes for Katsuki. You two are my symbols of peace and victory.”

“Amen!” Camie takes a big sip of her wine. “That’s my dude!”

“Sorry, Camie, I’m in a serious relationship with Yaomomo.”

“It’s just a phrase, dude, take a chill pill!”

“I don’t need a pill to get chill.” Todoroki shows his half frozen arm to make sure the blonde girl understands. Camie rolls down to the floor, laughing.

“Ahh, I can’t with all the lolz! You’re mad hilarious!”

Izuku takes a big sip of the alcoholic beverage he just got from Kaminari. Maybe that will help him decide if he wants to cry or laugh right now.

~•🥦•~

“Denki, you are awfully silent today.” You nudge the blond with your legs.

“It’s just… we never really talked about this, you know? That day. We talked about his injuries after he got better, we talked about his mental health, but never about that day. I…” Denki’s voice shakes and the room gets silent. “I froze that day. In the middle of the fight. It went something like that….”

~•⚡️•~

Kaminari was fighting on the sidelines with Shinsou; it was nothing but a few, relative weak mates of the main gang who were fighting with Deku.

Easy-peasy it was.

Until, it was not.

“The number one is down, the villain is on the loose, fuck, we are loosing them!” Comes the voice of a guy in the headquarters.

Kaminari saw white. And red. Then white again. The world spun.

This is not real, this is not…

“I can’t see anything from the dust! The building is down!”

“Anyone has eyes on Deku?!”

“I think he’s under the building!”

“The kid… I have the kid!” A young voice cried into the microphone. “He saved the kid, he…”

“Dynamight, do you have eyes on the target? Dynamight! Any intel on the area?”

“Dynamight is out of combat.” That was Eijirou. He sounded shaken up. He’ll never forget that voice. “Deku… Deku is our main priority!”

“But the villain…”

“I don’t give a single flying fuck right now!” Kaminari heard the sound of the rumble being thrown around haphazardly. “Izuku is dying under the fucking rumble! We need to save him!”

“Red Riot…”

“Red Riot is out.” After a loud screeching sound there was silence. Kaminari’s knees hit the floor.

“Kaminari… fuck’s sake, KAMINARI!” Someone yelled. It was a deep, usually soothing sound… oh… Hitoshi. “Denki, wake the fuck up, they are about to arrive! We need to fight!”

A sound of a slap. Pain. A stern voice. Silence.

“Why?” Kaminari asked.

“For Deku.” The voice wavered. Kaminari opened his eyes. There were tears. His own and… Hitoshi’s.

For the first time since they lived together… Kaminari saw Hitoshi crying.

“For Deku.”

~•⚡️•~

“Jesus, my dude, I thought this is a celebration, not a fucking commemoration.” Hawks (OHMYFUCKINGGOD?!) rolls in in a fancy golden suit which is somehow gorgeous and disgusting at the same time.

“Hey there, my friend!” Tokoyami, who’s been sitting in the furthest corner, perks up at the sight. Oh, you completely missed him when you walked in. How the hell did you miss a guy with a bird head?!

“Aren’t you a bit old for this suit?” Katsuki grins up at the new addition to the reunion.

“Ahh, I age like wine, blondie. Also, I do whatever the fuck I want now.”

“BONJOUR! I’m late!” Aoyama waltzes in with a massive plate of cheese. You have to hide your eyes from all the twinkling as the light catches on his glittery suit.

“When are you not?” Katsuki grumbles with a pout.

“Ahh, come on now, have some cheese!” Katsuki gets force-fed a piece of cheese. Aoyama’s face explodes just a second later. “Hm. Smoked cheese, IZUKU! Try it!” Aoyama taps his hair a few times to make sure his fabulous mane did not catch on fire then moves towards your partner to pop a piece of the melted cheese into his mouth. “You have one too, honeybun, you look hungry.”

The cheese… tastes nice. A bit warm with a hint of… caramel? Uhm. What the fuck is happening right now?

“Well, please don’t mind me asking but… you need a third in your bed? I’m quite versatile.” Aoyama stares at Izuku’s chest, completely unashamed.

“Try to say that to his face instead of staring at the poor guy’s nipples, maybe that will work?” Kaminari pipes in, looking a little bit less pale now.

“Impossible, Monsieur.” Aoyama sighs. “Can I touch?”

“Hell fucking no.”

Oops. That just came out. You get a proud smile from Katsuki.

“Oh, excuse moaaaah. I’ll sit down now. Silly me.” Aoyama giggles as he takes a seat next to a completely wet Mineta who somehow got out of the water.

“That’s sexual harassment, dude. Not good.” He mutters to the twinkling blond. Katsuki laughs.

“Wow, I’ve never thought I’ll hear this from the fucker.”

“He did try to flirt with Y/N though, don’t give him too much credit.” Eijirou adds with a protective glance towards you.

“Hey, I just stated facts!”

“Fair point, she’s a real babe, isn’t she?” Hawks teases but he looses his footing as black whip crawls around his legs. “Alright, alright, calm down, lover boy!”

“I can’t help it.” Izuku confesses. “If it’s not me, it’s the other wielders. Sometimes I wonder if they love her just as much as I do.”

“Your lady has her own harem in your head, how lucky!” Mineta looks at you with pure respect.

“Interesting.” Todoroki mutters with a straight face.

“Now are we getting a fashion show, Deku, or did I come here for nothing?” The empty space next to Katsuki speaks up… and everyone gawks at it.

“STOP SHOWING UP TO EVERYTHING NAKED YOU FUCKING WEIRDO!” Katsuki throws his blazer on the giggling hero.

“Hagakure-san, your modesty! Think about your modesty!” Iida’s arms move up and down then right to left; he looks like he’s trying to make some kind of weird robot dance which Camie is quick to point out right away.

“Tooru, we talked about this.” Ojiro, whose tail is being played by Kaminari sighs. “You said you are going to be late.”

“I was late! 1 minute late!” Hagakure snickers as Yaomomo makes some clothing for her.

“You guys have changed… for the worse.” Izuku smiles at his friends, absolutely not surprised.

Just as he manages to finish the sentence, Tsuyu-chan’s tongue darts out towards the fake sea and comes back with some… seaweed?

“Tsuyu-Chan, not again!”

The seaweed plops on the top of the table. The sound is disgusting.

At the same time, the door opens to Tamaki and Mirio.

“Wrong timing?” The louder one of the pair grins as they make their way towards the table. “Nejire is in Thailand but she sends her regards!”

“I name him Pierre.” Aoyama smiles at the green haired hero.

“I will take Pierre for my next fight. Thank you for your service, Tsuyu-Chan.” Tamaki plops the wet, slimy thing into his suit pocket. It makes a squishy sound as it gets tucked in.

There is silence once again.

“Y'all are a bit cringe , but honestly, it's lowkey iconic." Camie stares at the group of friends with a straight face.

“Period.” Kaminari smirks, proud of his companions.

“If someone needs lady towels, Yaomomo can make some.”

“Honey, that’s not…”

“Dude…”

“What? Periods are normal. I can also help with the cramps.” Todoroki adds proudly, showing off his hot side.

“Can you fucking stop being a walking green flag? It’s super annoying.” Sero mutters under his breath.

“Do I look green to you?”

“FUCKS SAKE!”

“I��m ordering another round of drinks.” Eijirou stands up and makes his way towards the bar.

“Bring some shots, too!” Mina chimes in as he takes a good look at the brain dead bunch.

“Two for me. Dark shadow is thirsty.”

“You can have mine, Dark shadow!” Kouda gives his drink to the creature who barely peaks out under Tokoyami’s jacket. Dark shadow purrs.

“Sorry to interrupt but if I remember right, Dark shadow doesn’t like light, so… can we dim the fake sun a bit so he can join us?” You mutter, your whole face red because… well… you have ulterior motives.

“You want to pet him, don’t you.” Katsuki grins at you.

“Duh.” Izuku mutters into your hair as he leaves a tiny kiss on the top of your head, grinning back at his best friend while doing so. Or at least, you think. You can’t actually see it.

“Ready for the night mode?” The bartender chimes in and everyone cheers.

You manage to pet dark shadow. This is the best day of your life. You’ve also learnt that Tokoyami likes My Chemical romance, flying through the sky during blood moon and also likes gothic fashion accessories. Kyouka invited you both to her next moon watching party. She said she’ll play the “good old EMO tunes” on her guitar for Tokoyami if he comes. Tokoyami said he’ll bring his own guitar so she can play her favorite; the bass. Then the moon watching ended up with the old class A band deciding to make a surprise concert in the big park before doing the moon watching party.

Hell, you love your life.

~•🥦•~

“Come on, little chicks, time to go home!” Hawks smiles at the group of half asleep people. “Tokoyami-kun, mind getting Mineta off the ceiling?”

Tonight was fun. Some people had a bit more to drink than they can handle, while some stayed completely sober; then there are a few people who had just enough to feel the buzz but not enough to make them incapable to work the next day.

You take a good look at your table; Katsuki, funnily enough, is one of the people who went a bit past their limit, but you are quite sure no one but you, Eijirou and Deku would be able to spot the difference in his behavior. He’s still his grumpy, old self, but his body leans towards Eijirou and is more approachable than usual, then sometimes, he smiles to himself like he’s actually happy to be with his friends once again. His cheeks are flush in an adorable way and his ears have a slight tint of pink as well.

Kyouka and Mina are utterly wasted. Kyouka is sprawled out in your lap right now, like she’s trying to make up for all the time you guys couldn’t meet up due to her being on a mission abroad. Mina is busy bugging Eijirou about some silly gossip she’d heard about someone on their team; her words are slurred, her motions clumsy but Eijirou, who’s slightly buzzed right now, enjoys the word vomit and the slight, friendly touches for his old crush from middle school.

“It was really short-lived but really precious. I’m glad I’ve never told her about my feelings. I would have hated to lose her as a friend.” Eijirou once said during one of your evening meet ups. You get that.

Needless to say, Mineta and Aoyama are also wasted, if Mineta hanging from the ceiling wasn’t a good enough of a hint, Koda, Shouji, Tokoyami, Yaomomo, Todoroki and Asui had one long drink and one shot with the team but stayed on the good side otherwise, Sero and Kaminari are wasted as usual with a buzzed and grumpy Hitoshi in their ass, Mirio and Tamaki look relatively well, both trying to help with getting everyone home safe even though Tamaki has a slight wobbliness to him. Camie left a few hours ago for another party. You have no idea how she has so much energy.

Ochako, Izuku and you are… well, probably in the buzzed state, Izuku slowly moving into the “team of the doomed” as we speak. Apparently, Sato can’t get drunk properly as alcoholic drinks have a lot of sugar in them and they only make him stronger and more vigilant. So basically, he gets a massive headache the next day but doesn’t get the negative effects of the alcohol thanks to his quirk. Fascinating.

“I’m surprised you are not shit drunk.” Katsuki mutters under his nose as he stares towards Hawks.

“I’ve changed a lot in the last few years. I still like the freedom and I still do whatever I want but… I’m kinda ready to just… settle, you know.” Hawks gives Katsuki a sad smile. “I’ve been controlled my whole life, I don’t want anyone nor anything to control me anymore. Alcohol makes me loose control.”

“I get that.” Katsuki slurs as Eijirou tries to give him a piggy back ride. “But don’t forget that when it comes to people… some of them deserve to have some control over you. Sometimes… giving the control to someone else for a few hours… takes some weight off your shoulders. Makes you feel… happy and stress-free.” Katsuki hides his face in Eijirou’s broad shoulders, already half-asleep. There is a weird kinda pain etched into Hawks’s face as he tries his best to answer.

Loneliness.

“I hope that one day, I’ll be able to understand what you just said.” He admits. “Also, your friend Mirko told me to say hi to you. She can’t wait to see you on the hero Gala this year.”

“Huh, I love that bitch.” Katsuki mutters into Eijirou’s back. “She should come over for my killer carrot cake.”

“She’d love that. See you next month, yeah? Wear something funky. It’s gonna be a big day for all of us.” Hawks smiles with a little more life in his eyes.

“I’ll wear fucking pink. I swear.”

“NO FUCKING WAY.” Mina yells as he stumbles towards the door.

“Wait and see, bitch.”

“Is everyone a bitch to you right now?” You giggle as you take in Katsuki’s disheveled appearance.

“Shut your mouth, Sweetloader.”

“Oi!” Deku suddenly stands up from his chair, wobbling a bit as he does so. “Wait, Sweetloader?”

“I mean, freeloader. Fuck, I’m drunk. Ei, take me home. I want to bake chocolate cookies.”

“You are not baking cookies at this state.” Eijirou laughs but makes his way towards the exit with him. “I did hide some from your last batch, knowing you’ll want to eat some, though.”

“I want to marry you.”

“I already said yes to that.”

“True. Hell yeah.”

The room erupts in laughter. Then slowly, everyone makes their way home.

“I’m so happy, Sweets.” Izuku mutters on the way home.

“Your friends are amazing.” You smile at your partner; once again, everything feels right and you can’t help but be giddy about it.

Life might give you a lot of hardships, but eventually, the good comes. It never rains forever.

“They are your friends too.” Izuku takes your phone out of your pocket to show you the several new messages in your phone. You are about to cry.

“Wow, they all messaged me! Look, even Camie did! Oh… I can’t understand what it says but her selfie is cute!”

“Not as cute as you are.”

“Oh, shush, you drunkard.” You giggle as you open your door, dragging the hero into his bathroom to force him to brush his teeth. Izuku turns around by the sink and puts his hands on your middle as he pulls you closer to hide his face in his favorite spot in your neck.

“I love when you manhandle me like that.”

Butterflies. Fucking butterflies.

“I don’t, my back hurts! You need to give me a back massage first thing in the morning. Or early afternoon, depending on how you are feeling.” You look at him with a grumpy pout; he kisses it off your face.

“The next hero gala is… in three months.” Izuku adds, suddenly looking as sober as ever.

“Yeah?”

“I want you to come with me. As my girlfriend.”

The bathroom is spinning. Is this what you think it is? Is this…

“You want me to… be there? On the red carpet? Make it… official?”

“I’ve hid you from the world for long enough. Did a really shitty job at that as well. It’s time for the world to know, Deku’s heart is taken.”

You can’t help the tears escaping your eyes.

“You mean that?” You ask, not sure it’s not just his drunk, emotional self talking right now.

“I already talked to Auntie about it. She’s happy to make our dresses so we match. Ahh, and she’s also making my dress for that Vogue photoshoot. I asked for a sheer shirt.” Izuku grins at your red face. This is too much. Just too much.

“I’m going to sleep. I cannot.”

“Brush your teeth first, you smell like booze!”

“So do you!”

Needless to say, you’ll buy three of that magazine issue when it finally comes out. One for your massive collection of Deku memorabilia, one for the living room, one for your bedroom and one to put up in a frame in a genkan for everyone to see.

Life is great. Oh hell, life is amazing.

… Next Chapter!

Potato ramble:

- I’m so sorry for being late, life has been as bad as always and I just wasn’t in the right mental space to post. But I’m relatively okay so don’t worry, this story will be finished soon! Well, if I ever stop writing more and more chapters… 26 was supposed to be the last chapter, now I’m writing the 29th which DEFINITELY WILL BE THE LAST CHAPTER! 😂 Then the KiriBaku extra will be the 30th, extra chapter. Unless I decide to write 500 other extra chapters because I can’t shut the hell up when it comes to this AU.

- I hope my little “fan art” made your day a bit. It’s my favorite art I’ve ever made! He’s so cute 😭💕 Even though he’s not the number one right now in the story so I fucked that up but let’s ignore that bit yeah haha

- Camie cracks me up. I absolutely loved writing her. Also, what the hell is this language, frfr no cap

- Todoroki is me in real life by the way. There was this one time when my friend came over to help me put my curtains up after I washed them and I told everyone at work about it but apparently I phrased it in a way that in slang means he did the cheeky with me and my asshole friends/colleagues decided to not tell me about it until 3 months later. The funniest part was that my friend also works at the same place so they all told him what I said but the asshole also kept silent about it because he had the best time of his life making fun of me. I hate young people. (No, I don’t.)

- I’ll be honest, this chapter is one of my favorites I’ve ever written. I don’t know why, probably because I can relate a lot to the random topic changes and as someone who’s been through hell in the last 3 years I can tell you that broken people do tend to jump between being all funny and crying 5 mins later then jump back to being funny because that’s literally what I do on a daily basis. So this chapter is really… a bit like me. All over the place but lovable if you give it a chance to understand it. Wow, Kit, so deep.

- I’ll shut up now, please let me know what you think!

TL: @garfieldthomas @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @katsuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @themultifandomgirl @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine @rei165 @unofficialmuilover @yao-ai @happydragonfrog @eeerreehhh @vinivave @alyss-eiz @sleepisfortheweakpooh

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬

pairing: dieter bravo x ghost hunter!female reader word count: 4.9k rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲

The producers of your hit ghost hunting show, Spirit Seekers, have picked your next celebrity guest. Dieter Bravo. You’re not looking forward to being locked in a reportedly haunted mansion with one of Hollywood’s biggest divas.

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

the first of my october spooky specials is here! ghost image in title art is from TO LIFE, TO DEATH by Jean-Marie GITARD. if you enjoy this fic, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment and thank you for reading!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), drug use - weed, smoking, dub con - sex following drug use, vaginal fingering, handjob, dry humping, getting locked in a haunted house together, misunderstandings. let me know if any tags are missing!

It’s not often you get called into an actual meeting with your producers. You’re on the road a lot filming for your hit ghost hunting show, Spirit Seekers, so they usually spare you from attendance and send you an itemized e-mail recap.

Not today, though. Today, all five producers were CC’d on the e-mail that requested a meeting to go over your next episode, which is set to start filming in two days. You tap your fingers against the shiny wood conference table, staring out at the Los Angeles cityscape through the panoramic windows as you wait for the suits to join you.

They all arrive at once, three men filing through the doorway with veneered smiles and abnormally smooth foreheads. They shake your hand one by one before taking their seats.

It’s Alec, a paunchy man with grey hair and round glasses, that speaks first, starting with a mumble of your name followed with, “I’ll cut to the chase. We’ve got a celebrity guest for the McCallister mansion episode that you’ll need to work into your production this week.”

“This is pretty late notice,” you reply, mind already running through what you’ll need to do to adjust for the format of a guest special. “Who is it?”

The three men exchange wary glances and you sit up straighter, bracing yourself for the response.

“Dieter Bravo,” Alec finally says, smoothing his tie with his hand.

“You’re shitting me.” If there’s one person you can’t stand, it’s Dieter fucking Bravo. “Is this how I find out Ashton is filming Punk’d again?”

The joke doesn’t land. Alec clears his throat before saying, “This isn’t a joke. And it’s an excellent opportunity to—”

“To what? Pander my show to a diva who’s just going to make my job difficult?”

“He has a very strong fan base that could bring in a large number of new viewers. Your show is popular, but only to a limited demographic,” Alec says. “We’re doing this for you. Spirit Seekers has a lot of potential but if you’re going to remain at the top and have a chance for another Emmy nomination, maybe even an award, you need to be willing to work with the guests that will bring in views.”

You sigh heavily. “I hate that you’re right.”

“I know. But I always am.” He slides a folder across the table to you. “Here are his requirements.”

“Requirements? He does know this isn’t a blockbuster production set, right?”

“This is the modified list,” the man to Alec’s right, Stephen, says. “Trust me, this is significantly better than it once was.”

You open the folder, scanning the document. “Alkaline water, glass bottle. Absolutely no plastic,” you read. “Organic, non-GMO, dye free, gluten free crackers. Did he just pick every Whole Foods buzzword and stick them together?”

“We will make this as easy for you as we can. We just need you to focus on the episode. Okay?”

“Fine,” you mumble, shutting the folder. “He breaks any of my equipment, I’m billing you.”

“Deal.”

Two days later you’re sitting in your makeshift command center with your crew mates, Andrew and Mike, making sure that all the monitors are displaying the feeds from the static cameras set up inside the mansion. You’ve already filmed solo interview segments with the owner, an elderly man who inherited the house over thirty years ago but left it untouched because of what he believes is a ghostly presence.

The sun is low behind the gorgeous Queen Anne Victorian home, orange sky haloing the steep roofed mansion. The historic building sits on six acres of land surrounded by a wrought iron fence that the owner, Paul, had to unlock for you to set up for the night filming session you would be doing this evening. He stands behind you now with his arms crossed over his chest as he watches you connect your equipment.

“So you’ll be in there all night?” He asks, voice wary.

“Most of it. We’ll get three hours of footage with Andrew following us through the house and then a few more hours of single camera action, coupled with the static night vision feeds that will roll all night. We’ll be inside until 3 a.m. and then work out here for a bit before packing up,” you reply. “Thank you so much for letting us come in and do an investigation.”

“I’ve got a bet going with a buddy of mine,” Paul says, puffing his chest out. “If you find something, he owes me a hundred bucks.”

You laugh. “I can’t guarantee anything. My goal isn’t to make a ghost where there isn’t one.”

“I know, I know. But I’m telling you, this place has always been weird.” He glances up at the house, his frame shivering despite the California warmth. “Doors always opening and shutting on their own, footsteps, voices. Whole nine yards. S’why I never moved in.”

You knew all of this, of course. You’d done a walk through of the property with one of your camera guys, letting Paul tell you his first hand experiences in the old house. You’re about to reply when the sound of a car barreling up the gravel driveway pulls your attention away from the conversation.

A black Escalade approaches, coming to a stop in a cloud of dirt that makes you cough. Paul pats your back as the back door opens and designer boots drop onto the gravel.

Dieter Bravo stands with one hand gripping the door of the car while he uses his other hand to tilt his sunglasses down his nose to squint at you. He’s wearing black joggers and a faded gray t-shirt with a hole near the collar, his hair a fluffy mess of dark curls.

“Hey,” you say in greeting. You hold a hand out and give him your name, forcing a smile on your face. “Welcome to the command center.”

“Command center? This some kind of secret army operation or something?” He asks, shutting the door and walking past you, leaving you with your hand out stretched for an unreciprocated handshake.

“Michael keeps an eye on the static cameras in case one needs to be fixed,” you explain, gesturing to the man sat in front of the wall of screens with a headset on. “Now that you’re here only,” — you check your watch — “an hour late, we can get started. Andrew, could you get him mic’d?”

Andrew approaches with a wireless microphone and the actor steps back and holds his hands up. “Hold up, I gotta make sure you got everything.”

“Got everything?” You ask.

“Yeah. My snacks and water?” He looks around expectantly.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Yes, they got your snacks. They’re in the cooler. Can you please let Andrew get your mic on? We have to start the guest filming before the light is gone.”

Andrew approaches Dieter again, who lets him get close enough to hook the mic to the waist of his pants. Dieter smirks as he says, “You could at least buy me dinner first.”

You groan, grabbing your own mic. “Let’s get started.”

“The mansion itself was built in the late 1800s and has only been home to two families since it was finished. It’s been in Paul’s possession for thirty years,” you say, walking backwards towards the house as the camera man follows. Dieter stands off to the side of the wraparound porch, waiting for his cue. “And tonight, we’ve got the exclusive opportunity to explore this gorgeous home with a special guest. Tonight’s Spirit Seeker is none other than Emmy Award winning actor, Dieter Bravo!”

Dieter steps into frame and gives a smile to the camera, clapping his hands together. “Let’s catch some ghosts!”

“Now, Dieter, we’re not the Ghostbusters,” you say, your voice deadpan. Dieter raises his eyebrows at you.

“That’s the best you’ve got?” He asks. Your brows pinch together.

“Excuse me?”

“‘We’re not the Ghostbusters’? Really?” He waves his hands to the camera. “Come on, sweetheart, give it a little more energy.”

Your teeth are clenched so hard your jaw aches. “I had energy over an hour ago. You know, when you were supposed to get here?” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Can we just get inside?”

He holds an arm out, gesturing for you to enter in front of him. Having toured the mansion already, you signal to Andrew to focus the camera on your guest for his reaction.

Dieter looks around the foyer, grand staircase and marble floors the centerpieces of the large space. “It’s a damn shame they don’t make them like this anymore. Look at the carvings! This has gotta be all original, right?”

“Yep. They’ve only upgraded the internal stuff, like plumbing and electrical,” you confirm. “The owner, Paul, inherited the house after his grandfather passed thirty years ago. He used to spend his summers here when he was a child and vividly remembers experiencing some…unexplained events that have left an impression on him.” You approach a table that’s been set up with your usually line up of equipment. “Tonight, we’re going to see if we can find an explanation for the inexplicable.”

“That’s so cheesy,” Dieter laughs. “You’ve got the cutest serious face, though.”

He thinks I’m cute? Your treacherous brain says, your face heating in response to the compliment. You quickly look at your equipment.

“Anyways,” you say, clearing your throat. “Let’s go through the equipment.”

You start with the basics. A digital recorder for capturing electronic voice phenomenon, night vision cameras, and dowsing rods. Further down the table you have thermal cameras, electromagnetic field meters, REM pods, and spirit boxes. Dieter listens attentively, to your surprise, and even asks a thoughtful question about the spirit boxes.

“How about we divvy up the gear? I can take the recorder and thermal camera, you can take the EMF reader—“

“No can do,” he interrupts, holding his hands up. “I don’t fuck with EMF.”

You blink. “What do you mean?”

“That shit is toxic. It’ll warp your DNA.”

“Dieter,” you say incredulously, “The entire planet is comprised of EMF.”

“No, that’s the geomagnetic field,” he argues.

“It’s the same thing!” You take a deep breath. “You know what? I’ll take the EMF detector. You can have the thermal camera,” you compromise, shoving the camera into his hands. You hastily gather the rest of the devices.

“Alright. Let’s do this.”

It’s the last hour of the main filming session where Andrew films you and Dieter using the equipment. So far, there haven’t been many notable experiences. You’ve captured a few creaking floorboards and the EMF meter has gone off a few times, but nothing that you can undoubtedly point to as proof of the paranormal, which is par for the course. What people don’t realize when watching your heavily edited show is that you cut out hours of silence and empty footage.

“Alright, Andrew, you’re welcome to head out. We’ll do a bit more upstairs,” you tell the camera man. “Thanks for you help.”

“‘Night, boss,” he replies with a little salute. Dieter watches him as he leaves.

“So, it’s just us now, huh?” He says, his eyebrows raised suggestively. “All alone in a haunted house…pretty hot.”

“Oh, please,” you say nervously, fiddling with your thermal camera, “We haven’t gotten any evidence that this place is haunted.”

“Maybe the ghosts are just shy,” he suggests.

You grab the REM pod and turn on the device, the LED lights flashing. “Let’s do a REM pod session. Here, hold the camera.”

Dieter holds the expensive equipment delicately, staring at the night vision screen to keep you in frame. “Not often I get put behind the camera,” he comments.

You spend the next twenty minutes asking a series of questions in the quiet room, your digital recorder running in your hand. Dieter remains focused on the screen.

“Why don’t you playback the recording?” He suggests. You glance at him, his face illuminated in the dark by the lights of the camera and the faint moonlight that filters through a window.

“Good idea,” you admit, hitting the stop button and running the tape back. There’s some static feedback before your voice announces the date and time of the recording.

“Is there anyone here with us?” Your recorded voice asks. There’s a beat of silence and you fully expect your voice to be the next thing you hear but instead there’s a garbled, “Yes.”

“Holy shit!” Dieter shouts. “That was a fucking ghost!”

“Shhh!” You hiss, flapping your hand at him. You play it back and sure enough, the same disembodied voice echoes through the room, clear as day. “Holy shit!”

“Play the rest, play the rest,” Dieter demands. He steps closer with the camera trained on the recorder.

Together, you listen to the rest of the recording. There’s another moment where you think you might have gotten a response, but it’s not as clear as the first one. You play it back again and again, and finally Dieter takes the recorder from you.

“Alright, enough, if I hear you ask, ‘Do you mean any harm?’, one more time, I’m going to have to tattoo it across my ass,” he says with a laugh. “Actually, that would be kind of cool, right? Very…provocative.”

“Oh my god.” You can’t help but laugh and the man’s face lights up with a cute smile, the corners of his brown eyes creasing with the force of it. “Let’s go check out the study.”

“How does this one work?” Dieter asks as you turn on the spirit box, the staticky feedback noise filling the room.

“It sweeps through different radio stations rapidly and, theoretically, a paranormal entity can manipulate it and use it to speak. Just ask question.” You fix the camera on him. “Ready when you are.”

“So…do any of the ghosts think I’m hot?” He asks, glancing around the room. You bite your lip to hold in your laugh as the static continues. “Tough crowd.”

You roll your eyes. “Be serious.”

“Okay, okay, fine. Uh…did anything like…bad….happen to you?” No response. “Do you…like having guests?”

“No.”

Dieter jumps, eyes wide as he looks at the spirit box. “No fucking way,” he says excitedly. “Okay, uh, why don’t you want guests?”

“Loud.”

“Oh my god,” you murmur. “Keep going!”

“Do you want to hurt us?” Dieter asks. The device is silent, no responses coming through. His shoulders drop in disappointment. “Damn. Some confirmation that we’re dealing with Casper and not that fucking thing from Insidious would have been nice.”

“Try one more question? I’m going to get the thermal cam,” you tell him, rushing to the desk in the center of the room for your equipment. You hastily power it on and point both cameras at him. “Ok, go.”

“You’re supposed to say action,” Dieter says, making you roll your eyes. “But I’ll let it slide. Hmm…ghost, is there a room we should explore next?”

It’s silent for a beat, and you think maybe the session may be over, but suddenly the device spits out the word, “Attic.”

Dieter stares at you with wide eyes. “Guess we’ve gotta go higher.”

“Let’s do it.”

You open the door to the attic, revealing a dark, narrow staircase that looks particularly haunting. The man stands at your back, looking up into the inky black darkness. He audibly swallows.

“Uh…how about you go first? You’re the professional,” he suggests.

“You scared?” You tease, taking a tentative step forward. “It’s just a little attic.”

“In a very haunted house!” He hisses. “What if it’s luring us here to kill us?”

“Then you would have had to film for this ‘stupid show’ with nothing to show for it. Tragic,” you reply sarcastically, placing quotes around the words stupid show.

Because that’s what you’ve heard him call it. Your show was up for a Primetime Emmy award last year for your Halloween special and it was your first time attending an award show. Dieter was there to present an award and was seated only a few seats down from you, talking to another actor you vaguely recognized, when you overheard his feelings for your show.

“I can’t believe they put such a stupid show in this category,” he said, loudly. “It doesn’t even belong here.”

“What are you talking about?” Dieter asks as you reach the open attic. There’s a circular window that looks out over the grounds, caked with dust and only allowing a tiny amount of light into the room. You turn to face him.

“At the Emmy Awards last year. I was sitting two seats down from you and you said — and I quote — ‘I can’t believe they put such a stupid show in this category’,” you snap.

He stares at you incredulously. “Are you kidding me? I love your show. I’ve been begging my agent to get me on as a guest since your first episode!”

“Yeah, okay,” you reply sarcastically.

“It’s true! Just ask him!” He steps closer, eyes wide and pleading, looking like a puppy who’s just been reprimanded. “I was talking about that stupid potato documentary. It was boring as hell and had no reason being nominated!”

“Wait…so...you like my show?”

“I love your show. It’s, like, the closest thing to being in an episode of Scooby-Doo.”

You laugh and Dieter’s face brightens, like he knows he’s in the clear. Suddenly, the sound of a door slamming has you both screaming and Dieter launches forward, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as he leaps into the air.

It catches you by surprise, all of his weight leaning into you and sending you crashing to the floor in a tangle of limbs and an echo of groans.

“What the fuck was that?!” You ask. “Dieter, get off, I can’t breathe!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, rolling off of you with a thump and another pained noise. “You were supposed to catch me.”

“Catch you?” You wheeze, flat on your back.

“Yeah, like in the shows. Scooby always caught Shaggy.”

“Why am I Scooby?!”

“I don’t know,” he shouts. “Listen, let me go check what that was.”

“You’re not leaving me up here,” you hiss. “We go together.”

The two of you make it to the bottom of the stairs, only to discover that the door to the attic has slammed shut. Not only that, but the damn thing won’t open. Dieter slams his shoulder into it as he twists the knob, cursing up a storm as he tries to shove it open with no luck.

“Remember what I said about the ghosts trying to murder us?” He asks.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got a radio. I’ll tell Michael he needs to come try to open the door.” You tug the radio free from the waist of your jeans, pressing the button and asking, “Mike? You there?”

Silence fills the room. You try again.

“Mike?”

More silence.

“Fucking Mike,” Dieter grumbles. He heads back upstairs to the attic and you trail after him. He makes a beeline for the small window, feeling around the edges of it. “Maybe we can get the window open and call out to him.”

“Good idea,” you tell him, coming up beside him and pulling a flashlight from your back pocket, shining the light on the windowsill to help him find the latch.

There’s a rusted crank that he starts turning, the hinges squeaking loudly enough to make you wince. The window opens the slightest bit, fresh air flowing into the stale room.

“Can you get it open a little more?” You ask. With a grunt, he forces the crank around, his biceps stretching the sleeves of his shirt.

Not that you’re watching his biceps. Or the muscles of his back as he moves. Definitely not.

“That’s as far as it’ll go,” he says. “See if you can see your little tent down there.”

“Command center,” you grumble, doing as suggested. You can can’t see much except a corner of the white tent fabric, but you call out anyways, “Michael! Mike! Hey!”

There’s no movement from below, no responding shout. You call out for him again and again, but it’s no use. He’s clearly not answering.

“I don’t have my phone during investigations. Do you have yours?” You ask. Dieter pulls his phone from his front pocket.

“Fuck, it’s dead,” he groans, tapping the black screen. You sigh.

“What are we supposed to do now?” You check your watch and find it’s 1:30 a.m. You have no idea where the fuck Mike went, but hopefully he’ll be back by 3 a.m. for debrief and a very stern lecture about abandoning his post. Dieter grins at you.

“Wanna get high?”

“The episode you did at the asylum in Kentucky is my favorite. It’s so fucking scary. The gurney moving? The shadows? Fuck, I was hiding in a blanket the whole time,” Dieter says.

You’re sitting beside each other with your legs out in front of you, your backs leaning against the wall beneath the small window. You’re pleasantly buzzed, your head a little fuzzy and your limbs loose from the joint you’ve passed back and forth for the last half hour and you’ve been talking about your favorite episodes, yours to film and his to watch, the conversation flowing surprisingly well.

“You know, maybe I was wrong about you,” you say when there’s a lull in conversation. Dieter looks at you, his eyebrows raised. “Yeah, I just…I don’t know. I thought you were this high maintenance asshole, I guess. But you’re kinda cool.”

Dieter laughs. “Oh, baby, I’m definitely high maintenance. You weren’t wrong about that.”

Something about Dieter calling you baby makes you feel warm and gooey. You’d like to blame it on the weed but if you’re honest with yourself for once, it’s because of him. You tried not to like him, you really did, but he’s funny and nice and doesn’t think your whole ghost hunting gig is a waste of time like a lot of men you’ve dealt with in the past. Not to mention he’s so hot, with his messy hair and pretty brown eyes and warm tan skin. Sure, he’s a pain in the ass, but you’re realizing now that it’s actually part of his charm.

You must be quiet for too long or fidget too much because he’s smirking at you now, plush lips tilted up mischievously. “You liked that, huh?” He asks.

“Liked what?” You whisper. He’s scooches closer, his thigh pressing against yours and your shoulders brushing.

“Me calling you baaaaby,” he says, drawing out the word teasingly. “You got all quiet about it.”

“N-no I didn’t.”

“Riiiight,” he teases. He twists his body, reaching an arm across to grip your thigh. “C’mere.”

You go willingly, maneuvering your clumsy limbs until your legs are spread over his lap. He looks up at you with glassy eyes and a syrupy smile, sliding his hands into the back pockets of your jeans.

“You wanna try that again, baby?” He buries his face against your chest and you laugh, squirming in his grip. “Come on, be honest with me.”

“Maybe…maybe I kinda like it,” you mumble. His hands drift up your waist.

“Like what?”

“When you call me baby.”

He presses a kiss to your collarbone, the touch electrifying. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“You’re so annoying,” you huff, trying to pull away from him. He holds you tightly.

“Nooooo,” Dieter whines, peppering kisses along all the skin exposed by your tank top that he can reach.”’M sorry, I’ll be good for you, baby.”

Your eyes flutter as you sink into his hold. His light kisses turn into teasing nips of his teeth that make you gasp and grind yourself over his lap. You can feel him growing hard beneath you, the length of his cock pressing deliciously against the seam of your jeans to give you the friction you’re craving.

Dieter’s hand wraps around the back of your neck, pulling you forward to press his lips to yours. It’s awkward at first, just a lingering peck, but then he licks at your bottom lip and you open up for him, his tongue hot against yours as you explore each other. Your mouths are a little dry from the weed but the kiss quickly grows hot and wet, a little desperate and messy as you move together.

“Fuck,” Dieter groans when he pulls back for a breath. “Keep moving, just like that.”

You have a better idea, though. You move down a little bit until you can get your hands on the fly of his pants, popping the button and pulling the zipper. He helps you out a bit, lifting his hips to shove his pants down just enough for you to reach into his boxers and wrap a hand around his thick cock. His eyes are dark and his mouth goes slack as you slowly bring your fist up, palming the slick head and smearing the bead of precum around the sensitive tip.

You withdraw your hand, bringing it to your face to lick your palm, getting it nice and wet as you keep your gaze fixed on him. He’s breathing hard, chest heaving with the effort and he gasps when you take him back in your hand.

“Fuck, feels so fucking good,” he groans, tipping his head back against the wall with a thump. “Tighter, baby, squeeze it tighter. Fuck, that’s a good girl.”

His words have your clit aching with need and you reach down with your other hand to unbutton your jeans, trying to keeping your motions coordinated as you do. Dieter looks up and notices what you’re trying to do.

“You need a lil something, baby?” He asks. When you nod, his hand smacks yours away, successfully undoing the button and zipper. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

His hand slides beneath your jeans and panties, thick fingers quickly zeroing in on your needy clit with tight circles that have your hand stilling around his cock as you moan. His other wraps around yours, encouraging your movements as he plays with your pussy.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans, fingers dipping lower until they’re pressing against your slick entrance. “Keep moving your hand, baby.”

You hadn’t even noticed that you stopped, too focused on how good his touch felt. “‘M sorry,” you mumble.

“Don’t be sorry,” Dieter murmurs, one finger pressing slowly inside of you. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

You try to focus on his cock, sliding your tight fist over his length, twisting your wrist around the flushed head, smearing the wetness at the tip around with your thumb. He pumps one finger, then two inside of you in a matching rhythm, the heel of his hand brushing your clit and making you moan.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, rocking your hips the slightest bit. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it, baby, I’m right there with you,” Dieter replies, his own hips chasing your hand. “Come on, come on, all over my hand, baby.”

The wave of pleasure crashes over you, your muscles tightening before releasing all at once as you cum, clenching around his fingers and moaning his name. Warmth spreads over your hand and when you finally open your eyes you see that Dieter has cum as well.

“Uh,” you say awkwardly, “What…what do I do?”

“Huh?” Dieter mumbles, withdrawing his hand from your jeans.

“With the” — you nod towards your cum covered hand — “mess?”

“Oh, right. Uh…just kinda…wipe it into my boxers?” He says. You do as he suggests, wiping the sticky mess into the fabric. “I’ll just deal with it later.”

“Boss? You there?” Mike’s voice calls out over the radio, which sits discarded to the side. You scramble off of Dieter’s lap to grab the device.

“Mike! We’ve been locked in the attic for over an hour!” You hiss. “Come get us right now and maybe I’ll let you keep your job.”

Mike responds that he’ll be right up and you fix your pants, hooking the radio back onto your jeans. Dieter stands, pulling his pants up and gathering some of the equipment. You stand together, waiting for Mike in what you would consider an awkward silence until Dieter bumps your shoulder with his.

“We should do that again sometime,” he says. “Maybe without the audience.”

“Audience?” You ask.

He leans in close, lips brushing your ear and making your shiver as he whispers, “The ghosts.” You shove him away, both of you dissolving into giggles. His face grows serious once more. “No, really. You wanna like…get breakfast or something? I know this good farm-to-table place that opens super early.” You smile at him.

“I’d like that.”

Dieter sits on the couch, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a box of gluten free crackers in his lap. “Hurry up! It’s starting!”

“Your fancy microwave burned my popcorn,” you whine as you rush back into the living room. Dieter sneaks a hand into your bowl, shoving popcorn hastily into his mouth. “Hey!”

“Boyfriend tax,” he explains. “Now, hush, or I won’t invite you over to watch anymore.”

“It’s my show!”

The opening theme music starts, some eerie instrumental that plays over a montage of scenes from earlier episodes. As the music fades, shots of the house and your recorded voiceover explain the location for the episode right before it cuts to you and Dieter.

“…And this, is Spirit Seekers,” you and Dieter say along with your recorded self, matching grins on your faces.

Dieter Bravo masterlist

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[thegalaxysedge22]

After Ever (Chapter 3)

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pair: sylus x MC (named)

tags/tw: death/grief, the absolute pain of research, annoying MC, cannon adjacent

word count: 4.6k

song rec: bad blood by taylor swift

a/n: this is quite the lore drop

important: if you want to follow this fic and updates but don't want to follow me bc im annoying (understandable) check out the tag #after ever fanfiction also if anyone wants i can start a tag list

Work was slow yet again when Kore returned to the Hunter’s Association, leaving her with a lot of time with her thoughts. Something about the death of Dr. Higgins occuring at the same time as the death of her Grandma didn’t seem quite right. That was where her downward spiral began.

Through her clearance with the Association she was able to obtain police reports and the medical autopsy. She spent the morning meticulously going through all of it, looking for any inconsistencies that could tie the two explosions together.

Lost in thought, her eyes became unfocused from the screen, that’s when she spotted something new. On one of the police reports she had open she noticed a faint mark to the side. Zooming in on it, the writing was illegible, but it looked like something had been written in with pencil.

Despite all the advancements in technology over the recent years, the cops tended to keep things old-school, using paper copies of reports when they could and scanning them into the database once they were done. Although inefficient, their success rate showed that it seemed to work for them, so no one forced any change.

Squinting, Kore tried her best to make out the notes in the margins, but it was illegible. In a desperate attempt she took a screenshot of the paper and adjusted the contrast of the image. The markings started to become clearer and when she adjusted the sharpness of the image she could make out one word with a question mark afterwards.

Onychinus?

Hearing footsteps approaching, she took a post it note and scribbled down the word before closing the image and minimizing the reports. She quickly opened some random tab to make it look like she had been working.

Tara appeared, poaching herself on the top of Kore’s cubicle, tilting her head in curiosity. “You don’t look very well rested,” she said accusingly. Kore had forgotten her promise to her friend to rest.

“I tried my best, but it’s been difficult, I keep reliving it," Kore said, trying to deflect blame. While it wasn’t entirely a lie, she did leave out details of her rather adventurous trip. Worry plastered Tara’s face and she nodded solemnly.

“I was stopping by to see if you wanted to get some lunch,” Tara asked, changing the subject.

“I think I’ll have to pass today, I have a lot of work to get done,” Kore apologized. Tara knew damn well that that was a lie, but she didn’t push it. It was then that Captain Jenna also came over to Kore’s desk. Tara barely spared a glance at the captain, showcasing just how deep her concern went.

“Sorry to interrupt ladies, I was just wondering if I could talk to Kore for a moment,” the captain said.

“That’s alright, I was just leaving,” Tara told her, eyes still trained on her friend as she walked away.

“Kore, can I talk to you in my office please,” Captain Jenna asked. A stroke of fear overtook Kore’s expression to which she was offered a reassuring smile. “No need to worry, it isn’t anything bad.”

Kore gave her captain a brisk nod and followed her back to her office. Once the door was closed, Jenna offered her a seat while she took her place at the other side of the desk.

“I wanted to check in on you, Kore,” Captain Jenna said, folding her hands on her desk, “I know it has been hard for you recently, so I wanted to see how you are doing.”

“I am alright,” Kore said, she was in fact not alright. The Captain raised an eyebrow at this, it was clear that neither of them believed the words that just came out of Kore’s mouth. It was not a secret that she had become a husk of herself since the accident, everyone who knew her could see it and she hadn’t bothered to hide the fact either.

“I know you’re relatively new here so I wanted to inform you about some of our policies. You know that we get a lot of protections and benefits working for the government. One of those is that when a loved one dies, you are entitled to bereavement leave of up to three weeks if you need it. Now I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything but you should know that you have options, if being here is too hard for you, taking time off might be your best choice.”

“In all honesty,” Kore started, vulnerability wavering in her voice, “I think that working has helped me take my mind off of things. When I am left alone with my thoughts, I start to go down a slippery slope.”

“I had a feeling you might say something like that,” the captain responded with a sympathetic smile. “I also wanted you to know that we do offer counseling free of charge. Although it is typically reserved for work related trauma, I would be more than happy to pull a few strings and make an exception.”

“I appreciate the offer, I really do, but I think I have to decline for now.”

“Alright, well, that is all I have for you, so you can go ahead and get back to work,” Jenna said, dismissing Kore. Kore made a move for the door, about to exit when Jenna stopped her, “Please let me know if you change your mind at all.” 

“I will,” Kore gave the captain a weak smile. With that she started to return back to her desk, the idea of taking time off completely out of her brain. On her way there she took note of how the office was largely deserted, most people on their way to lunch. Grateful for a bit of peace and quiet, Kore turned back on research mode and started digging into this “Onychinus.” She couldn’t help but wonder if they had any connection to her family’s deaths.

With a pad of paper and a pen she scoured the Association’s databases, typing in the word nothing came up. She tried various other phonetic spellings of it with only zero results to appear. She tried “Onychinus” once more, this time something did turn up.

Did you mean “N109 Zone”? The database asked her. She wasn’t sure how they could be related, it wasn’t like you could misspell “N109 Zone” that badly, but it was a start.

Clicking on the link she was brought to another page. A sigh of relief passed through her. We are finally getting somewhere, she thought. The results were limited, 51 to be exact.

She had heard whispers of the N109 Zone before, but it was something that was treated more like an urban legend rather than a real place. It was hard to get a clear picture of everything as most things seemed to be redacted to shit. Most sources seemed to be regurgitating the same information over and over again, it seemed like the area was once a hub for technology but has become a wasteland after the Catastrophe, controlled by cartels who made money off of the trade of illicit goods.

There were discussions of the illegal sale of protocores at auction, most of which appeared to take place in the N109 Zone. Kore wasn’t stupid, she knew that the sale of protocores must’ve been a thing, they could be worth a lot of money and they are powerful. Protocore auctions turned up dozens of reports of raids that had occurred, only a few had a passing mention of the seemingly elusive Onychinus, but that was really it.

She tried using the information she had to expand her search, but as hours passed, there was very little that she could turn up. Frustrated, she goes to Nero, the team’s tech wizard, to see if he can help. Perhaps he has higher clearance than she does, or maybe she is just bad at researching, surely he can turn something up, she rationalizes.

Nero is deeply engrossed in something when Kore reaches the dark corner he resides in. Glancing over at his screen she sees him on some forum talking about a Lumiere?

“Who’s Lumiere?” Kore asked. Nero jumped in his seat at the sudden intrusion.

“What-I was just working, I wasn’t doing anything,” Nero stumbled, trying to cover his tracks.

“Wait, you don’t know about Lumiere?” He questioned, doing a complete 180. Kore just shook her head.

“How could you be a hunter and not know about Lumiere?? They’re an icon, a legend. They were the first Hunter. When the Chronorift Catastrophe first happened in 2034, they were the first one to fight the wanderers!!! It was reported that they alone saved dozens of lives when it happened. They were a hero, I cannot believe you have never heard of them.”

Noticing his enthusiasm, Kore started plotting. If I allowed him to talk, maybe he would be more receptive to bending the rules and helping me out, regardless of my clearance level, she thought. The remorse she would feel after manipulating him was in the far corners of her mind, she was a woman on a mission after all.

“They sound incredible, can you tell me more,” Kore asked, pulling up the chair from the empty cubicle next to his. Nero’s eyes lit up at the opportunity and his whole entire demeanor changed.

“Wow, where do I even begin… Well, Lumiere’s identity has never been confirmed. There have been whispers and speculations, but if you ask me, none of them have been right, they just don’t fit the profile. After saving the city during the Catastrophe, which Lumiere did single handedly, not even the military knew how to handle the situation, at least not like Lumiere did. Anyways, after Linkon City was saved, Lumiere completely disappeared. No traces left behind at all.

“That is until about 2 years ago - on February the 26th of 2046 - rumors of a Lumiere sighting started to circulate online. A picture was posted on one of our forums and people went crazy. None of the Lumites - Lumiere fans - could agree on if it was actually them. It caused a whole big fight online. 

“But eventually more and more sightings appeared and we Lumites came to the consensus that it was Lumiere, but then that started a whole other bout of discourse. Why would they wait this long to come back? What were they doing out and about now?

“Well, through eye witnesses and photographs we were able to piece together a little bit of information. Although some Lumites contest it, it is widely accepted that Lumiere became a Tenebra. You know what that is right?”

Kore shook her head.

“Oh I thought you would know what a Tenebra is because you’re a Hunter, but I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised considering you didn’t even know who Lumiere is,” Nero scoffed before his hands covered his mouth, “I am so sorry I didn’t mean to rude. Please forgive me.”

“It’s fine,” Kore waved off his words, “but what is a Tenebra?”

“Right, right. A Tenebra is someone who broke the Hunter’s Code. Although it is typically due to them engaging in illegal activities, most commonly protocore smuggling, that isn’t always the case.” Nero checked that the coast was clear before leaning in and continuing in a whisper, “For years now there has been a theory that the higher ups in the Association ask high level hunters to do some crazy things and that go against most people’s morals.

“A few high level former hunter’s have said as much, but they have widely been discredited as either addicts or having extreme paranoia, but some people think that is propaganda.” After that Nero sat back up and continued at his previous volume

“Anyways, another key component of being a Tenebra is ties to some sort of secret organization. So one can, in theory, be a Tenebra without participating in any illegal activities. And we know that Lumiere isn’t a bad person, so, it isn’t the illegal activities that potentially make them a Tenebra. No, we think that it is because Lumiere has ties to some of the groups in the N109 Zone.

“And this isn’t just a theory either - Lumiere has been spotted in the N109 Zone as recently as two weeks ago and as far back as two years. We think that Lumiere is the one who is keeping the wanderers out of the N109 Zone and that they potentially have ties to Onychinus, who is supposedly one of the big names in the N109 Zone.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Kore stopped him while he was taking a breath, “What do you know about Onychinus?”

“Well, there isn’t too much known other than they practically govern the N109 Zone, it’s thought that they have a big hand in protocore trade though, even if it can’t be confirmed. I have also heard whisperings of the name Sylus in connection to them, but I have never been able to figure out how that plays into everything.”

“What do you know about the N109 Zone,” Kore pried for more information. 

“I don’t know too much, it is well known that information about this and Onychinus is kept largely under lock and key for some reason, but I do know that it is a hotbed for crime, also that it used to be a tech hub. Ever was allegedly based there when it first opened, but you can’t find that now, for some reason they are trying to scrub the internet of their history. There’s also–” Nero suddenly got quiet.

Xavier had appeared, leaning over the cubical’s low walls. “I was looking for you, Kore,” he said, “we have a mission.”

Kore apologized to him and stood up also apologizing to Nero for leaving him, asking to talk more about this soon to which he eagerly nodded. She then followed Xavier’s retreating footsteps.

“I don’t know why you’re talking about Lumiere,” Xavier said once she caught up to him, “It is pretty well known that they died during the Catastrophe, protecting the city.”

The wanderer was a particularly stubborn one, making it a tough fight, especially for Kore, who was already off her game. Usually, she had an uncanny ability to predict the movements of wanderers, which was why she was put in the Alpha team fresh out of the academy, but she was slightly off her game. Most of her blows were hitting the target, which was concerning considering she was the top marksman in her class. A few of her attacks were just grazes but unfortunately the wanderer could say the same. She had been grazed by the creature several. Her movements, while not exactly sluggish, were not up to her usual standard. It was mistakes like this that made her job all the more deadly.

Reloading her pistol, she took her eyes off of the wanderer, just for a moment. Big mistake. She didn’t see it coming and would’ve been hit if it wasn’t for Xavier jumping in front of her and deflecting the hit, his sword and skill easily fending off the attack.

Xavier was quick to deliver the finishing blow and Kore was left feeling ashamed. She moved off to the sidelines and fiddled with her equipment. She could feel Xavier wandering over but tried to ignore him.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” he said, “even the best of us have bad days.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Kore grumbled, picking lint off of her uniform.

“I’m not patronizing you, I am just letting you know,” Xavier said walking off. It was just then that Kore remembered she had something that she wanted to ask him.

“Xavier, wait,” she said, continuing when he turned back around, “Do you know anything about aether cores?”

A look of surprise flashed over his face, he was clearly not expecting that question, but he was quick to be able to mask his shock. He shook his head, responding, “No, I have never heard of such a thing.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Kore said accusatively, fire in her eyes. She had seen him falter and she would not drop the subject until she got what she wanted. Xavier sighed, shoulders relaxing before adjusting his posture.

“I should have known that you would be able to tell that something was different about that protocore,” Xavier said. Confused, Kore thinks back on their time together and remembers their first fight. It was in No Hunt Zone 7, the first time that they had met. She had noticed something was off about the protocore that came from the wanderer that they had fought, but she had always assumed that it was because she only had seen controlled specimens in her classes and never a real one out in the field.

“In its most basic form, an aether core is a type of protocore, one that has been modified somehow,” Xavier continued, unaware of the rapid thoughts in her mind, “it is very rare for aether cores to develop naturally and so they are often a result of human interference. Oftentimes their power dwarfs that of a regular protocore. They are very dangerous and not many people know about them, not even the Hunter’s Association.”

“If you know about the existence of aether cores, why haven’t you told the Hunter’s Association about them,” Kore questions.

“Well you know about them too, why haven’t you?” Xavier counters, her reaction is far from the ‘touche’ he expected.

“Now that I know that you have been hiding stuff from me AND the Association, how am I supposed to be able to trust you?” Kore practically shouts. Logically, she was aware that she was more mad than she had any right to be, but that didn't stop the fire that was coursing through her veins.

“Well you’re keeping something from me too, how did you find out about aether cores in the first place,” Xavier asked calmly.

“Because allegedly I have one in my body and that makes me feel like I have a right to know,” she said, her temper rising.

“You what?” Xavier said, his face paled, “What do you mean that you have an aether core inside of your body?” He didn’t even know that it was possible for a human to survive with an aether core inside of their body.

“Well apparently I was in some sort of experiment when I was younger, which I don’t remember by the way, and there was one placed in my heart and that is why I have Protocore Syndrome in the first place.”

“What do you mean ‘apparently’ you either were or you weren’t how do you know?” Xavier said, confused. Kore then recounted everything that had happened to her since Friday. 

She was so angry she didn’t gloss over any detail. It was if all at once all of her frustrations about the whole ordeal came out, the pot had boiled over. Xavier, for his part, stayed calm and collected as she went off on her verbal rampage.

“--and I need to find out more information on Onychinus because I just have a feeling that they are the fuckers responsible for this all happening but nothing is coming up–” Her avalanche of words stopped when Xavier placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I just don't know what to do,” Kore admitted as she made eye contact for the first time. Tears threatened to spill out of her eyes and her bottom lip quivered. Xavier smoothed down her hair with his other hand. A sob escaped her and she fell against him as if she no longer had control over her body, he wrapped his arms around her as she cried. Deep down she was embarrassed with how she was conducting herself, but it had been so hard recently and she hadn’t been giving herself the time or space to just feel.

Slowly but surely, Kore was able to compose herself. Although still a sniffling mess, she pulled herself off of him and said meekly “I’m sorry about that, I don’t know what came over me.”

“I think I might have something to cheer you up. Here,” Xavier said as he fiddled with his Hunter’s Watch. He put their two watches together and hers lit up, Confirm Security Clearance was on the display. “The Association’s databases are useless if you don’t have the right level of clearance. I extended my security clearance to you so hopefully more things will turn up for you.”

“Really?” Kore said, still wiping her tears.

“If it’ll help you feel better and earn back your trust then yes,” he said, “but you should know that it only lasts for 24 hours. Now go.”

Kore looked at him appreciatively, touched by his gesture, “Thank you, Xavier, for everything.”

The office was nearly empty when she arrived, which made sense as the day had been over for quite some time now. She had practically sprinted the entire way back, her leg wouldn’t stop bouncing the entire ride there, every stop the subway had made felt like a lifetime. As quickly as she could she got to her computer and logged in. Preparing herself for the worst, she typed “N109 Zone” in the search bar. The results were instantaneous, and she was shocked at just how much more information came up.

The redactions in the records that she had been reading earlier were fewer, but not gone completely. She was, however, able to learn more about these supposed protocore auctions that took place there. The auctions were allegedly held at a place only referred to as Elysium and it seemed that the vast majority of them were run by the group Onychinus. There’s that name again, she thought to herself.

Scanning the screen again she noticed that with this level of security clearance, a new database had been unlocked for her the Abyssal Chaos, which she knew existed but didn’t know what it was for. Taking a chance, she put “Onychinus” in the search bar, the results were far greater than she had expected.

This time, a shocking number of reports popped up. It seemed that Dr. Higgins’ death wasn’t the only one that had suspected ties to the criminal organization. It appeared that they had been targeting former Ever researchers but the motive was still unclear. This information, coupled with her grandmother’s former ties to the company, made her convinced that they had been involved somehow.

She became obsessed over reading every single report linking them to metaflux explosions and suspicious deaths. Falling deeper and deeper into a rabbit hole, but she didn’t mind, she was too busy developing a deep hatred for the organization. She had already felt like what had happened was not an accident and matching the similarities to their M.O. was intoxicating. She was placating a hunger she didn’t know she felt.

All of this eventually led her to find another, classified, report that vindicated her belief that Onychinus was involved in her Grandma and Caleb’s deaths. This wasn’t the one that she had been obsessing over just last week, this was a different, confidential one. As pissed as she wanted to be that this was kept from her, the desire for retribution was taking over her. She had to make them pay. 

She stumbled upon a document containing all of the data that the government had on Onychinus. In it she found a lot of information that she knew already, but there was also intel on a few potential members of the group. One of the suspected higher ups was only known as Mr. Sherman and he was thought to be the brains behind the operation. Sherman’s profile was unexpectedly deep and through, it made her wonder why they hadn’t got the guy if they knew so much about him.

However, it was another alleged member of the group that really caught her eye. There was very little on him, not even a picture, just his name, Sylus. He was suspected of being the leader of the group but there was a point of contention on if he was even real. The report mentions how some of the information about him seemed to be more stuff of urban legend than reality, for example. It was said that he could disappear into a plume of black and red smoke, Kore rolled her eyes at that. Yeah right he can do that, does he turn into a bat too? Like a fucking vampire? 

Despite the myths that seemed to surround him it was confirmed that he was, in fact, a real person, and that he was the leader, or at least figurehead, of Onychinus. Everything that she learned about them culminated into hatred for this one man. “Hatred” was too weak of a word for what she felt, she loathed nim, no she despised him.

Somehow, someway, she was determined to make him pay for what he had done. If I could just go to the N109 Zone and track him down, I could make him pay, she thought. Wait, what’s stopping me from doing that? The gears in her brain started spinning and she was calculating exactly what steps she needed to take to go there. She wasn’t even sure what exactly she would do once she got there, but for the time being that was irrelevant to her.

Kore refocused her attention on the N109 Zone, this time searching Abyssal Chaos’ database. There was something new that caught her eye. A decades old brochure with touristy information, incredibly out of place for a top secret digital archive. 

The scan resolution of the old pamphlet was abysmal, but it was still legible. What really confused her was that everytime the name of the town should have been mentioned it was scratched out. This wasn’t as if someone had redacted it digitally or with a pen, it looked like someone had been desperate to erase the name in its entirety. 

Come to think of it, she had never heard of the N109 Zone referred to anything other than that. By the age of the brochure it was clear that it was older than the Catastrophe so it could not have possibly always been the N109 Zone, she reasoned. A picture captured her attention.

Nearly an entire page was dedicated to the brand new Ever research facility that was opened in 2007. Outside of the shiny new building was the unmistakable image of her grandmother, decades younger than the woman she had known, but it was her nonetheless.

Unexpectedly seeing her grandmother like that was like a punch to the gut. Especially when she was having so many mixed emotions about the woman since she had learned more about her role in the experimentation that was done on her. She tried to clear her mind and get back to reading, but it was difficult.

Inside there was the regular touristy information one would expect a city to promote, the weather, hot spots to check out and sights to see, as well as a map of the city. Thinking ahead or acting in pure paranoia, Kore downloaded the document onto a hard drive she kept at her desk before she switched focus.

Before shutting down her computer, she made one last search. She typed in “aether cores” and waited for the results. It was exactly as Xaiver had said, the Hunter’s Association didn’t know anything about them – at least not in an official capacity. 

Kore was getting tired and her desk was looking mighty comfortable. Checking the clock, it hadn’t even struck twelve, she decided that there wouldn’t be much harm in taking a short rest, so she gave herself permission to close her eyes. Sleep hit her hard and fast.

Next >

[secretlythepits]

Legos, Teeth, Nightmares

I’m not taking care of myself. I’m not taking care of business. I have no time to waste but that’s all I’m doing. I’ve noticed my unhealthy coping behaviors creep up and now I’m worried. I’m using this post to help me— I don’t know— I need help.

I’ve been watching a lot of tv. This is what I do when I numb down. I’m rewatching This Is Us. So, themes. But also, catharsis.

I’m not eating consistent meals. I skip, forget, and I feel starving. Sometimes I stay starving and sometimes I make a poor choice. Or, i’ll make a good choice but then the rest of the meals are thrown off.

I’m not exercising or even walking. Part of this is due to my sprained ankle, though I think walking would be good at this point. Part of it is a heat wave making most of the day too hot so have a narrow window to make it happen. But the biggest thing is that I feel utterly paralyzed so I’m sitting on the sofa thinking about all that I need to do that I’m not doing and feeling ashamed and overwhelmed. It feels like I just CAN’T.

I need to complete important paperwork. I made good progress and just stopped. It still needs to be done.

I haven’t worked on my business since I came back. I need to get it up and running, but my mind is not in that head space. This is a needed income source.

I need to make a bunch of appointments for myself and the kids, but I haven’t because I don’t know what my husband’s doctors schedule will be. That’s stupid. I should just set them and adjust if necessary, but I CAN’T.

All I want to eat are carbs and sweets.

My body composition is changing rapidly due to perimenopause and these behaviors are making it worse. This greatly affects how I feel about myself.

I’ve been having so many sleep issues. Last night I had a dream where I was getting married in a couture LEGO dress, but as I was getting ready, all of my teeth fell out. I was naturally distressed and then I realized that I must have bone cancer. The dream lasted forever and I kept running around, looking for help, but nobody seemed to care enough to even try to help me. My husband was like, ok, you have to just deal with it. It’s still time to get married. I was freaking out and nobody could recognize the emergency. I felt so lost, panicked and alone.

The PET scan results will come in any day or maybe in a week. I am on edge. They will be the most telling. Biopsy is tomorrow.

I need support, but I don’t even know what to ask for. What can my friends do? I can’t talk to my husband about it because he is overwrought.

What I wish:

I want to remember to stay in my lane. Eyes on my life. Keep moving forward with my goals.

I really want to prioritize my own health and wellness. I want to lose weight and build strength. I want to feel inside of my body again. I like that feeling.

I want to renew my spiritual practices because they ground me, renew my energy, and bring me peace. (I’ve been avoiding them too.)

I want to make progress on my to do list so I have less to worry about.

I want unlimited amounts of good chocolate.

I want to sink into a good book, literary fiction that captivates me wholly.

I want to sleep through the night.

I want to know how to feel more supported while not having any of this touch my husband.

I want to be able to approach my day with a spark of go get em.

I don’t know how.

[snzluv3r]

i know there’s a lot of chronically ill/medically complex people on here so i was wondering, have any of you ever struggled with medical burnout (for lack of better words)?

(also gonna rant real quick under here sorry for the negativity)

i’ve been really struggling lately because it feels like half of my time is spent making phone calls and scheduling appointments and going to get tests and scans and spending months of my life just in limbo on waiting lists. i’m so sick of feeling like my health is a job and constantly being at the hospital for appointments like it’s gotten so bad that i can barely bring myself to take my meds anymore. it’s just so exhausting sometimes and i wish there was a way i could take a break from all of this without potentially making my health worse.

even today i woke up really sick and had to miss out on something i was really looking forward to yet i still feel this responsibility to make all of the medical calls i was planning to make anyway because i’ve been putting everything off for so long. it’s not like making those calls is that much work but it gets so frustrating being bounced around or not getting a straight answer because insurance or referrals or whatever other stupid healthcare system process that makes this all so much more complicated.

i also am still on the waiting list for my new PCP and have no idea when i’ll be able to actually meet her, yet my psychiatrist decided (without consulting me or my therapist) that because my meds haven’t changed recently (they absolutely have), i can just get all of my psych meds (including adderall) through my PCP….which i don’t technically have. i’m so frustrated because my nightmares have been so bad for years and they’re only getting worse and every med i’ve tried for PTSD nightmares is either bad for my physical health or doesn’t work at all and that’s really not something that i necessarily trust a pcp with??? it’s just not necessarily in their scope and i’ve had too many prescribers fuck up my brain and body by recklessly putting me on different psych meds without proper knowledge or research.

i’m just so frustrated and i’m so miserable right now i wish i didn’t have to do this for the rest of my life. and the fact that EDS literally just gets worse with age like? i don’t think i CAN do this for the rest of my life it’s just an endless cycle

sorry for complaining and ranting so much nobody is even gonna read this and that’s okay i just needed to get it off my chest

[rose-and-thorn-fanfics]

The Dark Knight Fanfic (Joker x Fem!OC) Part 15

Lottie Wayne wasn’t one to die easily. She knew her time would come, and she wouldn’t live to see old age. That was alright. Old age didn’t interest her. But she did know how she wanted to die: on her own terms, doing something absolutely batshit crazy. Her wish would not be fulfilled.

Lottie went back to a seedy motel with the joker, that night. The last thing on her mind was Maya and the penthouse she’d been sharing with her college girlfriend. She was busy in bed with the Joker, enjoying the simple pleasures of the flesh while the tv hummed softly and the cheap motel lamp lights flickered.

Eventually she passed out from exhaustion, only to wake up alone. Lottie panicked at first, scanning the room for any note. Finally, she found something written on a slip of paper. “Out. Will be back soon. -J”. She read out loud. She sighed with relief, reclining back in bed. Then the motel phone started ringing. She knew she should have waited for it to stop. But Lottie was a curious girl, and was easily bored, so she gave in and picked it up.

“Lottie?” Bruce’s voice came through the crackling speaker. Lottie’s eyes widened. She froze, unsure of what to do. Should she hang up? Bruce knew where she was? How was that possible?

Finally, she spoke. “What do you want, Bruce? You really shouldn’t have bothered calling me.” Lottie said slowly.

“I… I still care what happens to you, Lottie. I dont have a lot of family.”

Lottie laughed, snorting at his words. “Thats rich. If you know where I am, why didn’t you call Gordon and his bastard subordinates? You seemed perfectly fine leaving me in jail to rot. So why call now? Why are you… really calling?”

“Rachel is dead. You could end up dead too. I… can’t … I can’t lose everything. You’re like my little sister. I only left you in that cell because I thought you’d be safer there. Safe from him.”

Lottie paused, pursing her lips. “You really hate him? But you see, Bruce: I love him. I’m perfectly fine if he kills me… in fact, if I had my way… that’s how I’d go—”

“—Don’t say that.” Bruce interrupted, voice darkened with sorrow. Then, he repeated in an angry tone. “Don’t ever say that! He’s a psychopath, Lottie! A psychopath and a terrorist.”

“…So am I.” Lottie replied softly. A tear of frustration trickling down her cheek. “So you’re saying that’s what makes someone unworthy of your compassion? Unlovable?”

Bruce went silent, but she could hear his breathing over the phone. “You’re wrong Lottie. You’re not anything like the Joker. Please come home…” he whispered, voice shaking. He sounded like a scared little boy. Not the man she was used to speaking to.

“I love you Bruce… but there’s no home for people like me. There’s no home in this city, in this world. Thats what I’ve learned this year. I’m a freak, a reject.”

“I’m coming to get you Lottie. Whether you like it or not. I’ll get you out of this fucked up lifestyle. I’ll save you.” Bruce said, stubbornly.

“Who do you think you are, Bruce? Batman?“ Lottie laughed. The phone clicked with the sound of Bruce hanging up. Lottie sighed. Now Bruce was being stupid. With all his money he was still unlikely to catch the Joker. And would probably die in a reckless attempt to get Lottie back to the Wayne tower penthouse. This was exactly what Lottie was worried about happening. She wondered if she could convince the Joker not to kill her cousin.

TUMBLR FANFIC TAG-LIST! Comment “rose” to join, and “thorn” to leave!

@rottent33th

@armyangxls

@darkangel4405

@promiseokza

@6lostgirl6

@vamp-doll-diva

@queen-dk

@richardamboramylove55

[atariaction]

Kay’s 2023 Wrapped

Well, that about wraps it up for 2023, which means it’s time for my letter summarizing the computer history work that I did in the past year. I’ve been writing these letters since 2016, making this my eighth annual letter. I wish I had started this tradition in 1996, the year that my computer history efforts began when I launched the Digital Antic Project, which grew into Classic Computer Magazine Archive.

My goal this year was to publish six interviews on Antic: The Atari 8-Bit Podcast. I published just one. (It was a good one, with Rodrigo Castro about Atari in Chile. Why not six? My Internet Archive work and, simply, a lack of momentum on interviews. Once the process is going, it’s going! But getting that engine re-started is hard.) My goal for 2024 is to publish 15 interviews, which I fully expect to actually do. Between us over the years, Randy Kindig and I have published 436 interview episodes on Antic. Our collective goal is to reach 500 by the end of 2025. So to keep my end of the bargain, that means I’ll publish 15 interviews in 2024.

Scanning, though! I turned all sorts of rare paper material into easily-searchable digital material at Internet Archive. I scanned a lot of Atari newsletters, including many from Hughes El Segundo Employees Association Atari Computer Enthusiasts, South Bay Atari Computer Enthusiasts, and West LA Atari Users Group.

In other scanning news — let’s talk about MicroTimes. MicroTimes was a California-focused computer magazine that was published from 1984 through 1999. It was there in the thick of it, published in the state that brought us Silicon Valley. I wrote for MicroTimes for a few years starting in 1992. So I am especially proud of this: 41 issues of MicroTimes magazinewere added to Internet Archive in 2023, bringing the collection to 62 issues. Here’s the long-story-short summary of 10 years of effort: I made this happen. I willed it to happen. More issues will be added in 2024.

I also added two more books to the collection of Russ Walter’s Secret Guide To Computers at Internet Archive. The newest additions are hard-to-find editions from 1976, about BASIC programming and computer applications.

My Scantastix project (if you don’t know what that is, here’s a short article describing it) did some great work: we scanned 321 items totaling 22,577 pages. The scans include some rare Microsoft material, even rarer pamphlets and manuals for Compucorp computers (have you ever heard of them? The computer that came with them is on its way to Vintage Computer Federation) and so many Apple II manuals. Check out all the latest additions here.

Also, a weird scanning side-quest happened this year: My friend Cabel Sasser handed me a pile of more than 50 DAK catalogs, which I scanned for him, then he wrote a blog post about them that blew up the Internet for a few days. It’s a fun read.

Once again, I processed and edited videos of the presentations at Vintage Computer Festival West 2023and VCF East 2023. And I helmed a project to rescue audio from VCF West 2003. These were recordings that were made of talks twenty years ago, then the tapes were lost, then found, then given to me, then it turned out that the tapes were recorded terribly. It took a small team of people to get any sound at all from those tapes then turned into something listenable. They include the voices of C. H. Ting, Jef Raskin, John Ellenby, and Gary Starkweather, who have all passed since these were recorded.

When I interview a programmer, I ask the person if they have any source code. I interviewed Jay Jaeger, creator of the Atari Program Exchange version of Space War, in 2016. At the time he said he had the source code… somewhere. I contacted him from time to time to ask about that source code. (I have a “nag list” of people that I contact from time to time to ask them about some material or other.) Patience and persistence paid off. Just a few days ago, in December 2023, he found the assembly language source code and sent it to me to share.

A bit of personal archiving: I write for Juiced.GS magazine, which focuses on the Apple II. I uploaded all of the articles I've written for Juiced to Internet Archive, spanning 2015–2022. There are some interviews, some product reviews, and some nice little reminisces about the old days of microcomputers. (I released them under a Creative Commons license, so if you want to republish an article in a non-commercial computer club newsletter or something like that, go for it. My agreement with the magazine says that they get exclusive rights to articles for a year. So my 2023 articles will be shared online a year from now. In the mean time, it’s a good magazine: if you like Apple II, subscribe!)

My work at Internet Archive as the curator of the Digital Library of Amateur Radio & Communications is certainly one of the reasons I’ve had less time and energy for computer archiving. 2023 was my first full calendar year in this role. I hit my one-year anniversary in August! But there’s sometimes a nice overlap between the two efforts. For instance, in 2023 I archived several ham radio related programs for Atari computers and a few for DOS machines and even a handful for CP/M that were rescued from 8-inch floppy disks.

There’s something else, something that I’ve been teasing for years. In my 2018 letter I wrote “There’s a particular archiving project happening in 2019 that is really big and really important for microcomputer history. I’m not ready to talk about it, but hold your breath and cross your fingers.” Then at the end of 2019 I wrote: “That project depends on the help of one person who has been battling ongoing health issues. It is still very much at the front of my mind, and *crosses fingers* will move ahead this year.” It didn’t, and it couldn’t, but with patience and persistence, it’s finally happening. It’s already started, and I can’t wait to have something amazing to show you in 2024. Keep holding your breath and crossing your fingers just a little while longer.

If you support my archiving work on Patreon, thank you! Also please consider making a tax-deductible donation to Internet Archive, the non-profit online library that hosts all of my scans and interviews.

I hope we all have a pleasant and productive 2024. May your patience and persistence pay dividends.

[highqueenofelfhame]

rowaelin // 5.5k words // ciwyw masterlist // masterlist

AN: If your at starts with @secondstartorightand can you please comment on this so i can fix your tag? it somehow got cut off in the creation of my tag list and i can't find your blog lolol. ALSO, i'm sorry i update in the middle of the night. i'm nocturnal i'm sorry.

The car was barely put into park before she was throwing herself out of the driver’s seat and sprinting around the front. Aelin launched herself at her cousin, happy tears sparkling on her cheeks while joyous giggles flowed out of her. Aedion didn’t budge an inch when he caught her. His arms wrapped tightly around her middle and he squeezed so hard she thought her lungs might collapse altogether, but it didn’t matter. 

“What the fuck? I thought I was picking up Lysandra!” She cried, scowling over her shoulder at the police officer shouting at her. 

“You can’t park here.”

“I’m not parked, I’m picking up,” she argued, wiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands. Aedion’s hands came down on her shoulders, lightly pushing her toward the other side of the car so they wouldn’t wind up with a ticket thanks to her smart mouth. It wouldn’t have been the first time. 

Once they were back in the car, seatbelts on and pulling out of the maze that was the Varese airport, Aelin said, “What are you doing here?”

“Lys said you needed me. She booked my flight instead of hers. I’ll go home when she gets here next week.” Love and appreciation swelled inside her for her best friend. Of course it would have been amazing to have Lysandra here early, but the relationship she had with Aedion… the two were on a different wavelength. Save for finding out about the pregnancy, the first call she had always made upon getting big news was always him. The only reason he hadn’t been her first call when she took the pregnancy tests was because if they were positive, it felt too important to tell him over a phone call. They needed to be face to face. 

“I do. I do need you,” she confessed, reaching over to squeeze his hand. Telling him about the baby settled over her body like a heavy weight. It wasn’t that she was dreading it, but she was nervous about how he might react. It could go in a million different ways, starting with Aedion hunting down Rowan Whitethorn and beating him senseless for knocking up his little sister.

“What’s going on, bub?” Out of the corner of her eye she saw him shift so he was facing her more, eyes zeroing in on her face, scanning her body. Making sure she was okay. Strings plucked at her heart like a guitar and she had to swallow the crescendo of emotions that wanted to burst out. 

“I’d rather wait until we get home to get into it. But, Gods, I am so happy you’re here.”

“It’s not like, a major illness is it?” The humor was gone from his face, replaced by stern determination to fight whatever it was that plagued her. 

Aelin smiled. “No. I’m okay. I’m… mostly good. There’s just so much to catch up on. Apparently a lot can happen when we’re apart for three months.” 

Aedion snorted in response as he ruffled his fingers through his hair. “I’ll accept that until we’re home. After that, all bets are off and you better start talking.” 

Aelin swore she would, patting his knee to placate him.

The drive back to her apartment was short and quick. Even though she lived in the historic part of downtown, Aelin had quickly discovered that she was no more than twenty minutes away from everything she would need. The airport was the furthest, but all the stores, restaurants, and nightlife a girl could want were in that radius. Not that she was in the market to have a nightlife anymore. These days she found herself tucked into bed by ten or earlier. 

After the hike up the stairs to get to her door, the exhaustion from the last forty-eight hours was starting to creep into her muscles, her bones. All of her limbs were made of lead. After she broke the news and they settled in a little bit, she would reward herself with a nap. Aedion wouldn’t complain about it either after she told him about the baby. In fact, he would probably insist on it. 

Aelin gave him a quick tour of the two bedroom apartment, showing him the room he would be staying in for the week. They would have to share the one bathroom, but they had shared many spaces over the last decade. It wasn’t anything new. 

“Just don’t leave your hair stuck on the shower wall,” was his only request, as if he wasn’t guilty of the same crime. Long and thick hair that had a tendency to shed was hard to wash off when it adhered to her skin while wet. 

Evidently,  the girls had been a little too tight-lipped. The only thing Lysandra had told him was that he was needed, and Aelin hadn’t given him much to go on. By the time they settled onto the couch, the man looked like he was ready to crawl out of his skin.  His hands were constantly flexing into tight fists that relaxed into flattened palms with drumming fingers, then back again. The foot that was on the floor was bouncing so hard it was shaking the couch and threatening to send Aelin into a bout of motion sickness from hell. She put her hand on his leg to make him stop, brows raised pointedly until he obeyed.

“Can you please tell me what the fuck is going on?” Every word was wrapped in distress, the waiting game spiraling him into madness. A million and one scenarios had probably been flying through his mind from the time he found out he was coming to Wendlyn. There was one thing she needed to say first, though. He could wait a few more seconds.

“I want you to know that the only reason you weren’t the first person I told is because you were the one person I needed to tell face to face. Well. There were two of you, but I’ll get to that.”

“Aelin,” he whined, leaning forward and taking her hands in his. When he noticed the tremor in them, his entire demeanor changed. Gone was the impatience, replaced by his protective nature. 

Aelin’s eyes were snagged on their hands. Her’s looked so small between Aedion’s, and she wondered how tiny the baby’s would look when he held it for the first time. The thought of him holding something so tiny and pure had her eyes brimming with tears all over again.

“Hey,” he said softly, drawing her eyes back to his face with a knuckle beneath her chin. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. We’ll deal with it.”

Aelin laughed a little because it would be okay. Not just her and the baby, but Rowan, too. All of them would be fine. The road through the woods was just a little scary, is all. 

“Okay,” she nodded again, using her shoulder to catch a tear that escaped. Ripping the band-aid off was the easiest route. Dancing around it would only drive them both crazy, and they were each antsy in their own way already. On the exhale of a deep, steadying breath she said,  “Aedion, I’m pregnant.”

“Bullshit,” he blurted, jerking back from her. His hands never left hers, if anything his grip tightened. But he was leaning so far away that his back hit the plush armrest of the sofa. Aelin tugged until he was sitting up straight again, mouth parted in a wide ‘O.’ With shaking fingers, she reached over and pushed up on his jaw until his lips were closed.

“You’re going to drool on my pretty couch.” Though she tried to sound serious, there was no bite to her words. In fact, it was getting hard to keep her face neutral. 

“You’re– you’re fucking serious?” With eyes wider than the moon he took her in, pulling their arms out to look directly at her stomach. 

“You aren’t going to see anything, it’s still stupid early. And I’ve been so sick I’m probably losing weight, but… yes. You’re going to be an uncle.” 

The tears he had been trying to hold back broke free of their invisible cage, sliding down his face as he pulled her to him. One of his hands cradled the back of her head as his lips pressed soft kisses to her hair over and over again. Aelin’s arms snaked tightly around his waist, her face burrowing into his shoulder. 

Aelin tried not to think about it, but until she met Rowan, nothing ever made her feel more safe than being with Aedion. They grew up so close that half the time they referred to each other as their siblings. Both of them were only children and had been each other’s best friends since the day she was born. According to their parents, the first time three-year-old Aedion held Aelin when she was merely a few hours old, he made her promise after promise to always be there for her, to protect her. 

When her dad taught her to ride a bike at age four, Aedion had been there, too. When the training wheels came off, he ran alongside her with one hand on the middle of the handlebars for a little extra insurance. And when she had toppled over a bump in the concrete and skinned her knee, Aedion had picked her up and carried her back to the house while promising she was going to be okay. 

At age nine when she was tall enough to ride her first big roller coaster, he was the one that rode with her. The entire time he kept her hand tightly in his, reassuring her that it was going to be so much fun, that she would feel like she was flying, and if she was scared she didn’t have to let go of his hand. They spent the rest of the day running ahead of their parents to get in line for everything she was tall enough to ride and if it only sat two at a time, he sat with her and their parents fell in line behind them.

When she was sixteen and experienced her first heartbreak, he drove home from college that weekend. They laid in her bed until she had it all cried out, Aedion making violent promises to break all of the boy’s bones if he ever so much as breathed in her direction ever again. There was a steady supply of chocolate truffles and popcorn while they watched every silly rom-com she wanted. When he left to go back to school, he’d promised her she was going to be okay. 

At age twenty-two, when he found out the depth of her college sweetheart’s mental and emotional abuse, Aedion managed to keep his emotions under a careful lock and key when she showed up on his doorstep with nowhere to go. As she grieved over the loss of herself and the relationship, he was a steadying presence that refused to let her tumble into darkness on her own. On the bad days, he was there to make it better. Nearly every day for several months he promised she was going to be okay. 

It took some time, but she was okay. Even on the days she felt like she might completely crumble, his pinky promises when they were children held true. Aelin was going to be okay. It didn’t matter what happened, what life threw at her, she was going to be just fine. 

Aelin tried not to think about Rowan, how the safety of his arms had felt impenetrable the way that Aedion’s did. Not even her father had made her feel quite as protected as Aedion had. It wasn’t to say that he wasn’t a good father– Rhoe was the best father a girl could ever dream of having. There was just something different about the connection she had with Aedion. Now it was extended to Rowan, and she didn’t know what that meant. 

When they finally pulled away with red faces and puffy eyes, Aedion was smiling so widely it was making her cheeks hurt because she wore a grin to match. His thumbs brushed her tears away, both of them exhaling so shakily it resulted in laughter. 

“This is good?”

“It’s good. It’s… scary as all hell, but I think it’s good. It still doesn’t feel real. I haven’t had any scans yet, just a blood test because I was so sick. Lys made me go to the hospital for fluids when I couldn’t keep anything down. Then there’s the two dozen pregnancy tests under the bathroom sink. The throwing up has been the worst, though. Which shouldn’t even be called morning sickness, by the way. This shit hits me at all hours of the day without being provoked.” Aelin hadn’t thrown up since the day before, but she wasn’t going to jinx it by saying so out loud. It had a mind of its own and a vengeance against her. 

The depth of how badly she wanted to tell him hit her then.  The way the words just poured out of her lips in a steady stream made it so glaringly obvious that this was exactly what she needed. She wasn’t sure she could have gone much longer with a secret so hefty.

The muscles at his jaw rippled beneath his skin from the force of his clenching. Even the grip he had on her hands tightened further, almost to the point of hurting while he made peace with himself that he couldn’t protect her from being sick because of the baby. Something flickered through his eyes and it made her sigh as she said, “Go ahead and ask.”

“Who is the father.” The short, clipped tone had her fighting off another smile as he added, “And what is his degree of involvement, because if he isn’t–”

“Relax, bub. We had a moment after I told him where things were… rough to say the least. Yes, he upset me. No, he didn’t mean to.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” His lips were bracketed with tension.

“You know that soccer player from Doranelle, Rowan Whitethorn?” She tried to make it sound nonchalant and dismissive. Partially because he wasn’t really soccer’s most famous athlete when they were together. He was just Rowan.

“What the hell does a living soccer god have to do with this?” The genuine confusion cloistered amongst his features made her bite her lip to keep from smiling. Gods, it was so good to have him back. 

“I’m going to let you sit on that and connect the dots while I get some water.” Aelin patted his knee as she rose and walked to the kitchen. She was halfway there when he gasped.

“No fucking way!” 

“Yes fucking way. That’s how it happened actually,” she called, swiping a bottle from the fridge and returning to the couch. His face was torn between pure excitement and disbelief. For the thousandth time in the last hour or so, she laughed. 

“Rowan Whitethorn is one of the best soccer players to ever live, Aelin. I know you don’t care about it but he’s– I had posters of him on my dorm walls in college. I met him before the game I played against Doranelle and told him that he’s my hero, and– wait.” The excitement dropped from his face, eyes narrowing slightly. “What the fuck did he say that upset you?”

Aelin sunk back against the cushions with a heavy sigh, taking a long drink before getting into that mess. Her brother’s gaze didn’t once waver from her face, looking for any indication that he needed to get in her car and go kick somebody’s ass. It was sweet. Funny as hell, but sweet. Part of her would pay to see that fight, though. It could go either way depending on who wanted the win more.

“I found out yesterday that he had a situation a while back where someone he was sleeping with got pregnant and tried to milk him for all he was worth. And then told him she miscarried, and he found out weeks later that she lost the baby well before she even told him about it.  It’s even more convoluted than it sounds, but when I first told him he asked if I was doing it for money. Whether he meant if I’d gotten knocked up or was lying about it, I still don’t know. He knew the truth when I told him, but went into self-defense mode. Anyway, I–”

“Why the fuck would you be doing it for money?” 

“Well… He didn’t know who I was. Obviously I did it on purpose the first few times we hung out, but after that it just got to a point where it didn’t come up? So he didn’t know. But don’t worry, I plan on giving him shit about it for the rest of my natural life. Once I die, I’ll give him the occasional spook, too.”

“This isn’t funny, Aelin,” Aedion said flatly, lips pressed so tightly together they had disappeared. 

“It isn’t,” she agreed. “But I’m pretty sure he’s willing to grovel for my forgiveness until we both die. Don’t worry, I’m going to make him work for it.” 

“That’s my girl,” he grinned, bumping their knees together. 

“I didn’t even know who he was until after he accused me, and–” Aelin was cut off by an abrupt cackle that startled her so badly she splashed water on herself. She scowled at Aedion, smacking him in the shoulder.

“What the fuck do you mean you didn’t know who he was?!” Incredulity dripped from every letter and matched his expression perfectly. Aedion was gaping like a fish. “He’s the most famous soccer player– no,  forget soccer. The man is probably the most famous living athlete right now, period.”

“He told me he was a high school soccer coach! I didn’t think we were both lying about who we were!” She cried. Aedion’s whole body shook as he laughed at her. Even as she hit him again, she was fighting off laughter of her own.

“How did you find out the truth?”

“Lys wanted to know what he looked like. So she just googled a few key words hoping for a news article about his team or something. Lo and behold, it was him in his stupid blue jersey looking fine as hell even while drenched in sweat.” Aelin chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m sure mom, dad, and grandpa will all be thrilled I’ve made my way back into the soccer world.”

“If your baby isn’t a soccer prodigy by the time they can walk, Rowan should request a paternity test.” Aelin punched his bicep as hard as she could. Aedion howled with laughter  as he rubbed at the hurt. She was hoping to leave a nasty bruise. 

“He’s the only guy I’ve been with in…” Aelin puffed out her cheeks, eyes narrowing as she stared out the window to backtrack on her love life. When she came up empty handed on a time frame her lips morphed into a frown. “That’s so embarrassing I’m not even going to go down that rabbit hole.”

“Have you talked to him about Sam?” All of the joy from the morning was blown to tiny pieces. The blood in her veins thickened, turning into ice and making her shiver. 

“I’m going to need a nap if we’re going to talk about that,” she declared, rising to her feet and heading toward her bedroom. 

“We’re talking about this later,” he shouted after her, and she merely waved him off with the flick of her wrist. For that discussion, she needed to be fully rested with a full belly of chocolate hazelnut cake. 

Just before she rolled over to go to sleep, Aelin checked her phone. A text was immediately fired off to Lysandra reading BITCH! I’m too hormonal for a surprise like this!!! Which was quickly followed up with I love you. Thank you. 

Before allowing herself to drift into the waiting arms of unconscious bliss, she opened her message thread with Rowan.  A text had come through an hour ago, likely just after he woke up. The idea that he texted her to start off his day did things to her that she wasn’t willing to face. 

>> Just checking in. You didn’t let me know you got home safe last night. 

It was hard to ignore her emotions when he did shit like that. They hadn’t parted on the most outstanding terms. She could have forgiven him and they could have gone back to how things were. Instead she told him she needed space, told him not to touch her in that way because it had sparked things that she wanted to ignore for now. There was so much to process and there was no room for error.

It was such a casual intimacy, him brushing her hair out of her face. In another world where he hadn’t stomped on her trust like a twig, he would have been kissed for it. Everything about the way he just looked at her, for gods sake, sent sparks exploding through her. Aelin knew she couldn’t let her emotions lead her on this. It had backfired before, and she couldn’t let it happen again. Like she had told Lysandra, she just needed to be sure about him. 

Still, she felt a little guilty for not telling him she made it home okay. 

<< Hi, sorry. Safe and sound, don’t worry. Had an early morning and now I’m going back to sleep for a bit. I’ll let you know if I start dying. 

<< That was a joke. I’m entirely fine. Please don’t speed down here like a bat out of hell. 

Her thumbs hovered anxiously over the screen, the blinking cursor mocking her. It was weird how quickly things had gone from amazing to awkward between them. Making jokes seemed weird when they still had things to work through and talk about. 

Worse than the awkward tension that had settled over them like a fresh winter’s snow, she wanted to tell him that Aedion was in town. That she wanted them to officially meet. Not as two athletes, but just as people. Maybe crowded around a table at the Neon Moon, the two of them spouting off soccer stats and reliving match highlights from World Cup games. 

That scared her. It made her stomach turn and her ribs constrict until it hurt. It filled her muscles with sand and made it hard to move. Aelin didn’t want to think about what that meant, so she didn’t tell him about Aedion, didn’t mention how much she wanted them to meet and get along. Instead, she sent a much simpler text before she rolled over and fell asleep.

<< I hope you have a good day. 

~*~

The sun was setting and casting a beautiful golden glow over the city as Aelin and Aedion walked arm in arm down the street. What was supposed to be a few hour nap turned into a full seven hour sleep, but her cousin didn’t complain. After freshening up with a shower, she made quick work of a little makeup and an outfit she felt good about herself in. Lately all she had been wearing to the office was leggings and oversized shirts. 

Aelin dragged Aedion down the sidewalk with their final location just around the corner. Tonight the pair were taking on the Neon Moon. She knew that he was going to love everything about it. The gritty but slightly sophisticated feel of it reminded her so much of the Staghorn back home, and Aedion loved finding hidden gems like this one. On the rare occasion that they had been able to travel together, their main goal was always finding the coolest bars and cocktail lounges in every city. The only difference was that tonight, and for the next several months, Aelin wouldn’t be running up the tab with him. 

It was a good night to be here. The crowd was to be expected on a Sunday evening, but it wasn’t too noisy. There was a small table back in the far corner that she was quick to grab while he gathered their drinks at the bar. Aedion would no doubt come back with some sort of bourbon cocktail for himself and either a water or a mocktail of sorts for her to sip on while they waited for food. 

A pretty waitress swiftly stopped by the table and Aelin immediately put in an order for soft pretzel nuggets and beer cheese. It had always been one of her favorite snacks, and over the last few weeks she found that she could almost always keep the pillowy bites down. Baby seemed to like those, which was great, because they were her favorite thing at the Neon Moon. 

“You’re right about the Staghorn vibe,” Aedion said as he slid into the chair across from her. “I definitely get that.”

“This is where I met Rowan.” She pulled the fruity looking beverage from his hands, smiling a little when the flavor of lavender exploded across her tongue. It was nothing crazy, just a simple ginger ale with lavender syrup added, but it had become her go-to when she stopped in. Something about the lavender and ginger soda soothed her rioting belly. Plus, it was absolutely delicious. Connall must have seen her come in with Aedion if he knew to make it for her. 

“What was he doing in Varese?”

“Friends. He has an apartment here, too. He says it’s easier to be low-key here than it is in Doranelle,” she shrugged and took another drink. “Fenrys Moonbeam’s twin brother Connall owns the pub. We’re friends, I think.”

“You and Fenrys or you and Connall?” Aedion’s eyes were scanning the room, checking out all the decorations that lined the walls. 

“Connall. I’m assuming he made the drinks because I ask for this every time I come in.”

“I knew he looked familiar,” Aedion half-mumbled to himself. Aelin smiled, but it faltered when his eyes widened in the direction of the bar. Her stomach flipped and she started silently praying to the gods that she wasn’t going to look over and see Rowan sitting at the bar. 

But it wasn’t Rowan that caught Aedion’s attention. It was a golden-haired man who looked just as surprised as Aedion did, though his full lips were starting to twist into a smirk. His long curls were wild, falling around his shoulders in ringlets. One side was tucked behind his ear, completely exposing one half of his perfectly chiseled face. The man was beautiful. There was no other word in the dictionary to describe him. 

He looked so much like Connall, Fenrys’s coloring seemed to add a little more life to his face. She had ample time to take him in as he made a beeline for their table, an amber beer bottle in hand. While Connall was all dark shadows and whispered promises in a dimly lit room, Fenrys was life that came directly from the sun. His skin was a darker shade of brown than his brother’s, probably from spending so much time outside soaking up the sun’s rays during practice. And though his eyes were just as dark of an onyx as his twin’s, Fenrys’s seemed to glow as they settled on her face. 

Before she had time to fully process what was happening, Fenrys had grabbed a chair and pulled it right up beside hers. He plopped down, their thighs nearly touching. The table shook when he dropped his elbow onto it, his chin resting on his first as he looked directly at Aelin. 

“I have been absolutely dying to meet you,” he drawled, eyes jumping over every inch of her face. Aelin couldn’t help it. She started smiling, too. 

“Fenrys.” Not a question. This was definitely the fair side to Connall’s dark coin. 

“The assistant coach, at your service,” he winked, that cocky smirk never leaving his mouth. Her laugh was involuntary, lighting up the dim corner they sat in. Aedion looked lost, but Fenrys’s dark eyes pulled from her just long enough to look at him and extend his free hand. Everything about the man had a relaxed and almost giddy air about him. “Aedion Ashryver, it’s a pleasure to meet you. How’s your knee these days? I was bummed as hell about your injury.”

Aedion shook his hand, shrugging one shoulder, “Twinges when the weather is bad and gets achy in the winter, but doesn’t give me too much trouble. The pleasure is mine, by the way. Huge fan.”

“And I of you.” The interaction made her feel lighter somehow. There were times when Aedion still got extremely upset about his knee, especially if it was brought up in the context of how great his career could have been. This was one of the times where she didn’t sense an impending doom spiral. She would have to thank Fenrys for addressing it tastefully when Aedion wasn’t listening.

Fenrys’s eyes turned back to Aelin, cheek still squished against his fist. Up close she noticed little wrinkles around his eyes like he spent so much time laughing that it carved little canyons and valleys into his skin. Rowan always called him a pain in the ass, but she had a feeling it had more to do with jokes and teasing comments than anything else. Good. Rowan needed that in his life, even if it was in the form of annoyance. 

“Whitethorn has been gatekeeping you. I’ve been begging for an introduction because anybody that can draw him out of his constant state of brooding is worth meeting.” Fenrys paused, his eyes dipping down to her fingertips that rested against her belly. “Congratulations, I think?”

“Thank you. I’m happy about it. A little more every day,” she confessed, brushing her thumbs in abstract shapes over her t-shirt. 

“I know he said something stupid–” Aelin cut him off with a snort. Calling it stupid was an understatement, but the mirth in Fenrys’s eyes told her that he was well aware. “How much are you going to make him pay for it?”

“I’m nowhere near done, if that gives you any indication.” It wasn’t that she wanted to be mean to Rowan. It was just that there was no parallel universe where she wasn’t a little brash. Teasing was her second language. Aedion had frequently called it her love language, and he wasn’t wrong. It was almost like a test of sorts. An initiation. If he couldn’t weather the jokes and smart-ass remarks, they weren’t meant to have a relationship beyond co-parenting their child. 

One of the biggest red flags she ever ignored was Sam not understanding or approving of her humor. The way he had made her swallow everything down and bottle up her personality until she was merely a shell of herself and couldn’t even pretend around her family anymore had been a mental battle she lost. It wasn’t the worst of everything she went through with him, but Aelin wasn’t going to lose herself again.  Not for a man. Not even because they had to raise a baby together. That could be done at arms length with minimal contact unless necessary. 

Fenrys was grinning at her, completely ignorant to the dark spiral she had just been on. Something like mischief danced in his eyes as he said, “What would you say if I had an idea to make him squirm?”

“For your own enjoyment, or ours?” Aedion asked warily. Always the protective big brother making sure nobody was laughing at Aelin’s expense. 

“Why not both? I’m team Aelin. And if it’s a hard divorce, she wins my custody. Whitethorn was a dumbass and a little joke won’t kill him. It might take a few years but he’ll start laughing about it eventually.” Fenrys gave a dismissive wave through the air. The relaxed nature of him made her lean back a little in her chair. While Connall was easy going in all of their interactions, Fenrys was the amplified version. What would it take for him to snap about something? Going off first impressions, it seemed like a lot. 

Fenrys was looking at her expectantly, almost hopefully. Like he somehow knew about the sass and swagger she liked to carry for a security blanket. He felt like a kindred spirit, and Aelin liked it. If things went sideways she just might have a shiny new friend to get her through it when her family couldn’t be by her side. 

So Aelin smiled at him and leaned forward, bracing her arms on the table. Across from them, Aedion swore quietly. He’d been on the receiving end of her bullshit for twenty-five years. By the looks of it, she had just met someone that would stoke that fire into a roaring flame. Whether he was cursing the chaos the pair of them would bring upon Rowan, or hoping that it didn’t turn on him eventually, she wasn’t sure. 

Either way, Aelin was so in. 

“What do you have in mind?”

@elentiyawhitethorn @autumnbabylon @fancysludgeshoelamp  @wordsafterhours @live-the-fangirl-life @the-hospitality-of-knives @tangledraysofsunshine @readandlisten @westofmoon @rowanaelinn  @morganofthewildfire @writtenonreceipts @feynightlight @emster1622-blog @scarblx @secondstartorightand @thefaetrove @loveyatopluto @actuallybarb @peppermint-fae @the-devils-own @scottmcgivemeacall @livingmylifeforme  @wordsafterhours @foreverfallingforthestars @llyncooljones @emily-gsh @loosesimplicity @emilyrose111294  @charlizeed @aelinchocolatelover @cretaceous-therapod @sayosdreams @fireheart-violet @the-regal-warrior @backtobl4ck @shyvioletcat @bellasbookboyfriends

[cinnagall]

☆Welcome To My Gyaru Blog☆

♡ Intro ♡

Hiiiiiiii! My name is Jax, I’m 23 years old and from NYC! I’ve been gal for almost 2 years now. I don’t consider myself a vet gal by any means (obviously) but I’d like to believe that I have a good basis in the style and makeup! I don’t think my blog posts will be very formal at first but I want a space to share my opinions and document my journey.

I found gyaru and J-fashion through early Tumblr (around 2013/2014), and then rediscovered it in 2020 and fell in love with it all over again. I love gal because of how much tan skin is appreciated! Japanese gals created a space in a colorist society where you could say “I LOVE your tan skin!” I think that’s pretty amazing!!! I also love how gyaru as a style is very hyperfeminine but with a twist. Since becoming a gal, I have learned to care much less what people think. I’m not afraid to express myself or dress in a way that other people might not like. I am unapologetically myself and I partially have gal to thank for that! At first I was really inspired by Ganguro/Old School, I loved how early gals pulled inspiration from Western fashion trends, especially African American Y2K fashion. Though, I should acknowledge that there is a conversation to be had about appreciation vs appropriation, which I might talk about in a later post.

🌺FAQ🌺

I’ll answer some FAQ that gals get so you guys can understand a bit more about my personal philosophies on the style:

💄 Do you need makeup to be gal?

Yes, there are many, MANY different styles of gyaru makeup and all of them are valid, but the only thing that has stayed consistent across gyaru “substyles” is the makeup (and hairstyling/nails), but the defining feature of gal is the makeup. This is a sentiment that has been echoed in both the Gaijin and Japanese gal communities. You don’t need to wear heavy yamanba makeup every single day, it’s understandable that some days you might not have time or energy to do your hair, money to do your nails, ect. The important part is that you do these things as much as possible as well as incorporating gal into your life in other ways!

🌺Can you be gal if you’re white or not asian?

Yes, anybody can be gal!

👛Do you need brand to be gal?

NO. Even the most well known gaijin gals own Western fast fashion brands. A lot of similar items to the ones Japanese gals wore can be found second hand or in your local mall. Obviously, finding a dupe for an item can be difficult if that item has a specific print like the Alba Rosa coat and some MA*RS sets (though Shein did have a MA*RS dupe dress last year), but other than that a lot of gal outfits are easily replicable. Magazine scans are going to be your best friend if you wanna get the style right, it is much easier to get the gal look you want when you have a clear basis/inspiration for the coords and makeup you wanna wear. Also, simply owning brand is not enough to put together a good outfit, a lot of people who wear a lot of brand lack inspiration and originality. I am not anti-brand by any means. I have a huge list of brand items I want, and I even ordered my first brand piece recently (a MA*RS handbag). But it’s just not necessary, and some brands are essentially the equivalent of Japanese Charlotte Russe or Forever 21. The brands are still fast fashion and a lot of second hand brand items are falling apart, smell, have stains, ect. Don’t stress about brand unless you really want it! It took me almost two years to buy my first piece, you’ll be okay without it! Learning HOW to style, is a lot more important than WHAT you style. A good gal can make almost anything gal, but “bad” gal can end up making anything, even brand, look cheap and tacky.

(hint, hint: a lot of it honestly is and that’s why styling really matters)

Substyles I’m currently into and why!:

🦋Agejo🦋:

So, when you think of agejo, it probably looks something like this:

This specific type of agejo is what tends to be most represented on Google and Pinterest. Newbies to the style might think that pink, black, cheetah print, lace stockings, and big hair is all there is to the style. But boy would you be wrong!!!

Look at some of these scans from Ageha, most of these are from 2008-2012. Look at how many different types of agejo are represented! Of course the iconic pink and black MA*RS sets can be found in some spreads, but they’re much less common than most gals think!

See how different the above images are? Agejo literally translates to “butterfly lady”, so in a lot of Ageha editions, especially in the spreads for more formal dresses, you will see a lot of butterfly motifs! Isn’t it crazy that the style that has butterfly in the name, yet it isn’t commonly associated with butterflies at all? I also learned from my friend Haruka (@otknoharuka on Instagram) that in Japan, Agejo is considered a style under the Hime umbrella. It actually makes a lot of sense if you’ve seen a lot of ageha scans.

I know, technically you can argue that some of the outfits in these scans could be considered another substyle. But let’s just remember that substyles aren’t real and they’re something Western gals came up with to make sense of the scans/information that was available to them at the time!

I really started understanding this style more when I started to religiously scour Ageha scans. At first I was an Egg girl all the way but I’m glad I actually took the time to read other magazines. Egg is iconic but it’s far from all there is in terms of gyaru magazine inspiration. I totally fell in love with this substyle when I finally tried out the softer, more dolly makeup look that’s common in Ageha magazine (example below). It suits my features so much better than the harsher gal make I used to do.

An early attempt of mine at Agejo/Ageha inspired makeup:

A more recent attempt:

🐆Banba🐆:

Personally I’ve never been into more “out there” styles like ya/manba. I don’t think they really suit me, and it’s just generally not the gyaru vibe I’m looking for. But Banba has recently been resonating with me recently. If you don’t know, the term banba comes from combining “barbie” and “manba.” It’s a more toned down and hyper feminine version of manba. I also find that it’s more beginner-friendly than some other substyles (in terms of coords).

A lot of the outfits are composed of muted colors, tans/browns, black, white, and animal prints. These are all items that are very easy to find, it’s just a matter of learning how to style them! I also love how glittery the makeup is, and the nails are to die for. I’ve actually been teaching myself how to make nails and a big part of it is because I don’t feel complete without them, especially when doing styles like this!!

Some banba inspo I’ve pulled from recently:

Some recent attempts of mine:

I’m going to end this blog post here!! I had a lot of fun making it and I’m excited to do more posts in the future!! I think my next post will be a unpopular gyaru opinions post, might rial some people up but in classic gal fashion I simply do not give a fuck.

I hope you’re having an amazing day wherever you are!!

TT & IG - @cinnagal

☆じゃあね☆,

ジャックス

[shadamyheadcanons]

Headcanon #292

Cross-posted on AO3.

So...I just finished the Zombot arc of the IDW comics. It’s incredible and heart-wrenching! Unfortunately, Shadow is...well, I’d heard he was bad in IDW thanks to Sega’s restrictive mandates on the character, but man, it hurts! Normally I just write him based on his best iterations, but this time, I wanted to see if I could make their dynamic work even while staying in-character with the worst. Something about Tails’ redemption in Frontiers working with his weakness in Forces--instead of pretending it didn’t happen and moving on, which is what many of us would’ve been content with--inspired me.

Spoilers through IDW issue #30. Also, I haven’t read any further than that, so this headcanon probably won’t fully jive with later issues.

--

Amy’s hand shook as she signed yet another piece of paperwork. She sighed and set it aside. Her heart stung as she looked back at the pile in front of her.

One hundred down, one thousand to go.

She gritted her teeth and picked up the next sheet. The words started to run together as she read. She shook her head and squinted past it to keep reading.

No time for complaining. If it needs to be done, I’ll do it.

She doggedly scanned the page, counting up the numbers and types of Wispons listed in their inventory and matching them up with any newly-recovered recruits they had available after the plague.

She heard whispering outside the door. She grumbled.

Great. A distraction. Just what I need.

Without lifting her head from her work, she snapped, “You know I can hear you, right? If you’re going to gossip, you might as well come in.”

A small, fluffy head peeked into her doorway, followed by a tiny blue Chao.

Amy’s shoulders relaxed a bit. “What is it, Cream?”

Cream shuffled fully into the room. She dug her toe shyly into the floor. “We’re just checking up on you, Amy. You’ve been in here an awfully long time.” Cheese nodded along.

Amy sighed. I don’t have time for this. “There’s a lot to get done, Cream. Even if there weren’t a ton of cleanup to do from the war and the plague, the Zetis are still out there. We can’t let our guard down.”

Cream started stroking one of her enormous ears, hiding halfway behind it as she protested. “But you haven’t left this room in days. You need to rest!”

Amy’s fingers tightened around the pen she was holding. She tried to go back to reading as she replied, “I don’t have a choice, Cream. We don’t have enough help. I’ll rest once things are under control, but I just can’t do that right now.”

She was forced to look up when Cream placed her hands on the desk, soft but insistent. “But...you have to!” Cream insisted, her face pained. “You need sleep, Amy!”

“I told you, I can’t!”

Cream flinched back, letting out a tiny whimper. Amy winced. She reached over the desk and took one of Cream’s hands. “Cream, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just...between everything that’s been happening...almost losing everything...and...with Sonic being...”

Her words died in her throat.

Cream gently squeezed Amy’s hands in her own. “That’s why you need to rest, Amy!”

“No, Cream, that’s why I can’t!” Amy argued. “If I give up now, then everything Sonic was fighting for could fall apart. He ran and fought for all that time with that virus in his system! I can’t let his work go to waste.”

“But what about you, Amy?”

“What about me, Cream?!”

Before their argument could escalate further, the sounds of another dispute from outside the office met Amy’s ears.

“Oh, no. Not yet. Not when I just found you again.”

A surly voice grumbled something in reply.

Rouge stepped in through the doorway, dragging Shadow along with her by the arm. “Morning, girls. Hope you’re having as much fun as I am.”

Amy’s eyes lit up. “Shadow! I’m so glad to see you!”

Shadow just stared at her. “Why?”

She let out a breath of relief. “I heard about what happened in Sunset City. I was really worried about you.”

He immediately hunched up his shoulders. “I didn’t come here for sympathy.”

She remained silent for a moment, feeling more tiredness set in.

What happened to you?

She crossed her arms. “Well, I’m still glad to see you’re safe, whether you like it or not. So there.” She nodded firmly.

He glared at her for several seconds. Evidently unable to come up with an effective comeback to her odd brand of stubborn compassion, he just rolled his eyes. “Hmph.”

Rouge gave him an unimpressed look.

Amy shook her head. “Do you two need something?”

“We’re looking for Omega,” Rouge explained. “There isn’t a huge rush, but once G.U.N.’s back on their feet, I’m sure they’ll have a mission for us.”

“Sorry, Rouge, but I’m not the one to ask,” Amy replied, skimming the document in front of her. “Tails said he’ll get to rebuilding him once things are a little more under control. You’ll have to find him.”

Shadow growled. “I told you, if you’d just let me...”

“We’re not doing this again,” Rouge snapped. “You just recovered from the Metal Virus, and then you immediately snuck off alone and tried to fight Metal Sonic.”

Cream gasped. “By yourself?!”

Shadow’s mouth was set in a frustrated grimace. “Did anyone else notice Eggman was getting away? No. Was anyone else there to chase him down? No. It needed to be done. And if I could just try another approach--”

Amy felt her heart soften, seeing herself in Shadow. He must be so frustrated. This isn’t the right way of going about it, but...I do understand.

Apparently, Rouge disagreed. “And then what? You’ll do something reckless and get yourself hurt again? Shadow, do you have any idea how...” She trailed off and grimaced. “What about the rest of us? We need you! Think about someone else for a change!”

“UGH!” Amy cried. She rubbed her temples. “No offense, but if you guys are going to argue, then can you take it somewhere else? I can’t work like this.”

Rouge looked down at her. She cringed, though she still didn’t let go of Shadow. “Now that I look at you, Amy, you look terrible. You shouldn’t be working like this.”

“She hasn’t slept in days!” Cream blurted. “She needs to stop!”

Rouge’s eyes bugged out.

Shadow had been averting his gaze, but now she could feel his eyes on her, though they remained unreadable.

“What I need is some space,” Amy spat, tapping her pen against her desk. “Someone needs to do the paperwork on weapons distribution, and I’m the closest thing to a weapons expert the Restoration has right now.”

“What about Miss Whisper? Doesn’t she know a lot about Wispons?”

“I had to send Whisper to Spiral Hill Village to do cleanup with Tangle,” Amy explained, trying to be patient with Cream. “I can’t separate those two again. You saw the state she was in when we had to leave Tangle behind.”

She tried to go back to the forms, but Rouge’s smooth voice cut in. “What about Tails? He’s the tech guy, isn’t he?”

Amy’s fists clenched, and she gritted her teeth. “He’s working on tracking down the Zetis. Everyone else is off fighting, rebuilding, or doing search and rescue. There isn’t anyone. It has to be me right now.”

“Cream’s right, Amy. You can’t keep this up,” Rouge argued. “You’ll burn yourself out at this rate, and then you won’t be any help to anyone. You need--”

“What I NEED is some peace and quiet!” Amy snarled, glaring back and forth between Cream and Rouge. “I’ll never get this done with everyone bothering me like this.”

She’d just gone back to the forms when she was interrupted again--but this time, it was a lower, more calming voice.

“You want peace and quiet? I can provide that.”

Amy blinked up at Shadow in surprise. “Really?”

He nodded and wrenched his arm out of Rouge’s grasp so he could join Amy behind the desk. “If this has to get done, then it has to get done. I’ll bring you somewhere quiet.”

Rouge choked. “Shadow, you can’t just--”

“Yes I can. Didn’t you want me to ‘think about someone else for a change?’” he sneered.

Amy glanced from Cream’s worried eyes, to Rouge’s disapproving look--and then to the pile of papers. She gathered them up and smirked at Shadow. “You know what? That sounds like exactly what I need.”

He nodded and took her hand. Cream and Rouge balked.

“Amy--!”

“Shadow--!”

“CHAOS CONTROL!”

In a flash, the two hedgehogs were gone. Cream sighed, and Rouge held a hand to her forehead.

“What am I going to do with that guy?”

--

Amy blinked her eyes open. “Where are we?”

“My place.”

He released her hand to turn on the light, decreasing the intensity shortly thereafter with a dimmer switch. She gazed around at her unfamiliar surroundings and cocked her head in confusion. “Did you guys move...? I visited you one time, but I don’t recognize any of this.”

Strictly speaking, Rouge had invited Knuckles over, but he’d been too nervous to go alone. Amy had pulled Shadow into the kitchen to help bake a cake with her to give Rouge and Knuckles some privacy at one point, and she’d had a nice, low-key talk with Shadow while they did so. He’d actually asked her advice on something.

That really was a nice visit...but it’s been a long time since then.

“Rouge and Omega still live in the same place, but I moved out,” Shadow explained, kicking off his air shoes. “G.U.N.’s been sending me on more solo missions recently. They moved me closer to HQ.”

Amy started to pull off her boots, then stopped. “Wait...you live alone?”

“Yes.”

A pain made itself known in Amy’s chest. “Doesn’t that get lonely?”

“I’m fine on my own.” He started walking farther into the house.

She dropped her boots off and jogged after him. “Why would they need you to be closer for that? Can’t you just teleport whenever they need you?”

“You ask a lot of questions for someone who wants peace and quiet,” he pointed out. Amy laughed tiredly, unable to argue with that.

Shadow walked past a couch with clutter piled high on two of its three cushions. He stopped beside a nearby desk and picked up the laptop and cord from on top of it to make space. “You can work here.”

“Phew!” Amy dropped the stack of paperwork on the desk and flopped into the chair. She smiled up at him, tired but grateful. “Thank you, Shadow.”

He gave a curt nod and walked off.

Amy watched him go. Her ears drooped sadly.

Poor Shadow. He can say he’s fine all he wants, but...

Shadow sat down on the one available spot on the couch and opened up his laptop. His face was set in the stalwart scowl he’d been wearing recently, a far cry from the solemn but relaxed expression she was used to.

I know he’s hurting.

Amy sighed and returned to her work. Not much I can do to help, especially not right now. I need to make the most of this.

She was only two forms in, but her eyes were struggling to stay open. She shook it off and bit the inside her cheek, hoping the pain would help keep her alert.

“Here.”

Amy jumped at the deep voice over her shoulder. “Huh?”

Shadow was placing a mug next to her on the desk. “Coffee.”

She looked back and forth between him and the mug blearily, then brightened up. “Thanks, Shadow! This is exactly what I needed!”

He brushed it off as he walked back to the couch. “I was making some for myself anyway. It wasn’t any extra effort.”

“I still appreciate the thought!” she sang, unperturbed by his lack of response.

She sipped the beverage, sighing in relief as warmth seeped into her bones. He makes a mean cup of coffee, too! Has coffee always tasted this good?

She signed off on a few more pages. Despite the coffee, she felt a headache coming on. She squinted at the letters on the page. “Shadow, don’t you think it’s a little dim in here?”

“I don’t like bright lights.”

He didn’t elaborate further. She pursed her lips and looked around, frowning when she couldn’t find a lamp. Guess this is the best I’m gonna get. Well...beggars can’t be choosers, I guess.

She yawned and continued with her work. She almost nodded off a few times but managed to hold it together for a while longer.

Eventually, the sound of Shadow shifting and standing up to leave the room made her jump, cluing her in that she’d fallen halfway asleep. She shook her head and blinked her eyes wide open. Keep it together!

She’d just finished another sheet when she heard footsteps from her left. A tantalizing smell wafted in under her nose as a plate was placed on the desk next to the stack of papers. She looked up at Shadow, baffled. “What’s this?”

“Turkey. It was taking up space in my fridge, so you can have it.”

Her eyes went wide. He looked away and crossed his arms insistently. “I’m not gonna cook anything. Don’t expect anything else.”

Her responding smile was gentle. “I wouldn’t expect that. Thank you so much!”

He nodded and returned to his laptop. Amy started in on the turkey. Her tail wagged happily.

I had no idea how hungry I was! It’s only frozen turkey, but man, did I need this!

She tried to keep working, but her gaze kept drifting back to Shadow. She watched as he lit up some incense and left it on his coffee table. You were always quiet and serious, but you were never prickly back when I met you. You let me hug you. You listened. You weren’t afraid of letting people know you cared. Did G.U.N. do this to you?

Amy’s eyes burned in anger past their lids. Her grip on the pen tightened as she filled out another form.

If I ever catch wind that G.U.N. hurt you, that commander will have a date with my hammer.

Once her anger died down, however, Amy started to lose focus. The dim lighting and Shadow’s quiet keystrokes didn’t help, nor did the calming scent of lavender from his incense. The letters blurred. The pen left extra lines on the paper whenever she dozed off in the middle of writing something. It wasn’t long before her consciousness faded out, coffee be damned.

The last thing she registered was a feeling of weightlessness as someone lifted her from the stiff chair, reassuring her in a low, calming voice.

--

Amy’s eyelids fluttered open some time later. She blinked and rubbed them a few times, then stretched and took stock of her surroundings.

The bed she was lying in was soft but unfamiliar. A bit of light shone in from around the edges of the heavy curtains on the window, illuminating the warm black bedspread comfortably swaddling her as she gazed around a room she didn’t recognize. Books were piled on the nightstand. She idly basked in the relaxing scent on the pillows, trying to place where she knew it from...at least until she noticed the digital clock.

1:00.

Her eyes shot open.

One? One pm or am? What day is it?!

Amy burst out of the room and dashed in what she hoped was the direction of the front door. “SHAAADOOOWWW?!”

She skidded to a stop in the first room she’d entered the night before, but no one was seated on the couch. She stayed quiet as she scanned the area.

“Walk of shame, huh, Amy? Thought you had work to do.”

“Eep!”

Amy jumped in surprise and turned around to see Rouge sitting on the counter in the open kitchen behind her, legs crossed. She winked at Amy.

Amy sputtered and straightened out her dress, the same dress she’d been wearing last night. “I-I wasn’t--!”

Rouge chuckled. “Just a joke, Amy. If you’re gonna sneak off with the guy I’m trying to keep track of, the least you can do is let me have a little fun with it.”

Amy tensed up, suddenly embarrassed by the memory of their hasty departure. “Ah, riiiight...sorry, Rouge.”

She uncrossed her legs. “It’s not a big deal. I at least knew he wasn’t doing anything reckless if he was looking out for you.”

Amy smiled wryly. “So where is he?”

Rouge sighed. “Your guess is as good as mine. He already left,” she said, nodding to where hers and Amy’s boots sat alone by the door. Rouge stepped around the counter to join her. “He was gone when I got here. It was just you, looking awfully comfortable in his bed. Should I ask what happened last night?” She snickered.

“Nothing like...that!” Amy huffed and combed her fingers through her quills to straighten them out. “I was getting work done. He was nice enough to make me coffee and give me food, but I still fell asleep. He must’ve carried me to bed after that.” She sighed.

Rouge just stared at her, baffled. “Really?” Amy nodded. “Huh. He’s normally a terrible host.” She stepped back into the kitchen and picked up a bag of coffee grounds. “I gotta ask, though; why’d you ask for decaf when you wanted to stay awake?”

Amy stopped. “What?”

Rouge held up the bag to show her. “See? Decaf.”

Amy squinted at it. “I didn’t ask for coffee. He just made it for me. He said he made some for himself and just gave me some while he was at it.”

But Rouge shook her head. “Shadow doesn’t drink coffee, he just eats the beans,” she explained, nodding to a plastic container full of coffee beans next to the fridge. “If he bothered to brew coffee, it was just for you.”

Amy’s eyes softened. “Really? So he...wait a minute...” Her eyes narrowed. “He gave me decaf coffee, fed me turkey, kept the lights dim, stayed quiet, burned lavender incense--” She gasped, scandalized. “He sabotaged me! He totally let me fall asleep on purpose!”

Rouge burst out laughing.

Amy turned on her. “What’s so funny?!”

Rouge wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and tried to hold back her laughter. “Oh, hun, I’m sure it wasn’t anything bad! He was just worried about you, like Cream and I were!”

Amy tapped her foot rapidly. “What do you mean?”

Rouge calmed down. “You looked like you were ready to collapse yesterday, Amy. Tell me: how much work were you actually getting done at that point?”

Amy averted her eyes.

Rouge placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “All Shadow did was spare you a stiff neck. He does have a sweet side, you know.”

Amy tried to remain firm, but after a moment, a light laugh escaped her. “Yeah. I do know.” She exchanged a meaningful nod with Rouge, then wandered back over to Shadow’s desk and looked around in confusion. “I thought I left the forms right here. Did you do something with them?”

“He probably brought them back to HQ for you with Chaos Control so you wouldn’t have to carry them all by hand.”

Amy found the pen she’d been using. She picked it up and smiled wistfully. “He’s very thoughtful. In his own way.”

“Heh. Don’t tell anyone, or he’ll never hear the end of it,” Rouge mock-whispered. Amy giggled and pocketed the pen.

Rouge walked her outside. “Do you know where you are?”

Amy squinted past the bright sunlight. She peered around, finding she recognized some of the buildings around her, even in their crumbled state from after the war and the Zombot plague. “Yeah. HQ should be...that way.”

Rouge nodded. “It’s not too far, but do you want a lift? I’m flying that way anyway,” she offered, extending a hand.

“Oh, thank you so much, Rouge!” Amy gushed, happily taking her hands. Rouge lifted her and took off in the direction of HQ.

Amy gazed down at the ruined city below her. It had clearly been hectic and crowded before the destruction. She frowned, remembering the time she’d spoken with Shadow about their mutual love of nature.

He must hate it here.

“Hey, Rouge?”

“Hm?”

“How long has Shadow been living by himself?”

Amy heard a sigh above her. She peeked up.

Rouge’s face was surprisingly weary. “It’s been about a year now.” Amy flinched, so Rouge added, “I insisted on getting a spare key immediately. I visit whenever I can, like this morning.”

Amy sighed. “Thank Chaos! He says he’s fine on his own, but...”

“He’s lying,” they spoke together. The two exchanged a sad smile.

Amy bit her lip. “Shadow wasn’t always...like this. He used to be different.”

Rouge just kept flying. Her silence spoke volumes.

Amy tried again. “Did something happen?”

Silence.

“Was it something G.U.N. did?”

Amy could see the way Rouge’s jaw clenched. Finally, she responded.

“Even if I knew the full story, it wouldn’t be mine to tell. You’ll have to get it out of him.”

“I’m going to.”

Rouge’s eyes widened.

Amy grinned up at her, determined. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this and make things right. I’ll never give up on him!”

Rouge’s surprised look softened into an encouraging smile. “I believe it. If there’s anyone who can get through to him, it’s you.”

--

Rouge dropped her off at the entrance to HQ. Amy thanked her and dashed down the hallway toward what remained of her office, waving to the other Restoration members along the way. She slid to a stop at her desk.

Just as Rouge had predicted, the stack of papers was waiting for her, with another pile already growing beside it. She sighed and sat down.

I guess it’s better that I got the sleep after all. I could never get through all of this without--

She stopped and stared at the first sheet from the previous night.

What?

The form was complete--and not in her tired, messy scrawl, either. She flipped to the next page, only to find that it, too, had been filled out with neat, decisive pen strokes.

She kept flipping pages, feeling relief and wonder fill her chest. Every form in the stack was blessedly complete--and properly, too. Whoever had done it possessed just as much weapons expertise as she did, if not more. They’d even included an extra sheet with suggestions and improvements for some of the defensive formations she’d laid out for HQ.

Amy knew that handwriting. It was the same penmanship that had written her an encouraging letter when she was sad. It matched the frosting calligraphy on the cake they’d baked together. It had spelled out a phone number for her years ago when she’d asked on a piece of paper right underneath the name “Shadow the hedgehog.”

All the emotions from the past few weeks rushed out of her. She held herself and wept silently in gratitude and relief.

I know you’re still in there somewhere. And I’m not going to give up until we get you back.

--

((I have more sympathy than ever for the IDW writers. I can’t stand writing him like this X_X))

[the-iceni-bitch]

The Days and Nights are Long

Pairing: clueless!Colin Shea x clueless!fem Reader

Words: ~4K

Summary: You and Colin are being idiots and it’s driving his band crazy.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (m receiving oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, squirting), idiots in love, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: It took way longer than I had planned but here’s some more of our drunk, musical idiots in love for you hoes!!! I love them so, even though they’re morons. Tagging my Colin babes @starlightcrystalline and @wayward-blonde because I know they’ve been waiting for this.

I no longer do taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

Colin shook his head and shrugged uncomfortably as he stared at his phone, wracking his brain to think of what exactly he should say to you.

“For fuck’s sake, Shea, just ask her to come up.” Matt looked exasperated, twirling his stick through his fingers as he rolled his eyes when Colin scowled at him.

He’d been moping for the past two weeks, ever since the two of you had slept together. All of his bandmates were getting sick of it, the man was the biggest pouty baby on the face of the planet. If they had to listen to him sing Everybody Hurts one more time they were going to kill him.

So they’d come up with a little plan to get him out of his funk, lining up a gig that would really lend itself better to a female vocalist and feigning innocence when Colin pointed that out. They had really enjoyed hanging out with you on that exceptionally hot evening, and if having you join them again was the only way to get their boy out of his funk, even better. He had actually smiled before pulling his phone out, but then he realized he had no idea what he should say.

The two of you had still been cordial whenever you ran into each other, but there was definitely a strain to your interactions now. No matter how much you both told each other it wasn’t awkward, it was definitely awkward. It was also weird that he was pretty sure you hadn’t come home after 1 AM at all in the last two weeks, and you usually at least spent your weekend nights at some other asshole’s apartment. Not that he’d had any visitors either, but he didn’t want to explore that too much.

He was still staring at his phone screen and trying to come up when some nonchalant greeting that would entice you to come sing with them when the phone was suddenly plucked out of his hand by an exasperated looking Keith, who ignored his spluttering as he typed a quick message before tossing the phone back to him.

“You’re thinking about this too hard.” The bassist said, setting to tuning his instrument and chuckling at the indignant look on Colin’s face.

Colin was about to give a snarky reply when he felt his phone buzz and looked down to see a text from you, grinning when he saw you saying you’d be right up. With an exclamation point! He didn’t even notice the pleased grins his bandmates were giving each other as they watched him start to tune his guitar, plucking a happy little tune and humming to himself.

They were all expecting you to come through the main door from the stairs, so when you shouted hello from behind them after climbing up your fire escape, you were greeted with the sight of five grown men almost jumping out of their skins before turning to greet you.

That grin on your face was enough to make Colin melt, all the awkwardness that had been lingering between you disappearing in an instant when you met each other’s eyes.

“Alright boys!” You took the mic Brad handed you with a warm smile, rolling it in one hand as you trailed the cord through your fingers. “You said you needed my help with something Col, what’s up?”

“Right, these idiots lined up a gig for us without consulting me first.” They all avoided his halfhearted glare with doe eyed innocence, focusing on their instruments. “And, well, the set list isn’t really in my range.”

“Lemme see.” You took the sheet of paper from his hand and scanned it quickly. “That’s a whole lot of girl rock.”

“Yeah, like I said, Ann Wilson and I aren’t really in the same register.” Fuck, it was nice to be able to talk to you again.

“Why don’t you just modulate it, then?” You mumbled absentmindedly.

He gaped like a fish at that question. He honestly hadn’t even thought about it, and even if he had, he wasn’t expecting you to know about modulation.

“If we modulate for him, none of us can hit the harmonies.” Craig piped up from behind the keyboards, and he could have kissed him.

“That right?” You teased, shooting a wicked smirk around at them. “You boys sure you didn’t just miss me?”

Colin tried not to sound too hysterical when he let out a laugh, missing the indulgent eye rolls his band mates were giving behind your backs.

“What do you think, we booked a gig where I can’t sing any of the songs on purpose just so we could hang out again?” Good thing he was pretty, the man was clueless.

“No, you’re not that clever, Col.” He made a mock wounded gesture and you grinned at him, looking over the set list some more. “What kind of gig is this anyway?”

“Yeah, Craig, you never told us what the actual gig was.” Colin and the rest of the band gave the keyboardist a variety of inquisitive stares.

“Uh, it’s a bachelorette party.” He mumbled, avoiding making eye contact with his bandmates when they started groaning.

“Fuck, Craig! I do not want to get felt up by a bunch of drunk, horny women!” Colin threw a balled up sheet of music at you when you started laughing.

“That seems right up your alley, Shea.” You teased, dodging when he threw a pillow from the couch at you. “You don’t want to pick up some rowdy bridesmaid?”

“No, they’re scary aggressive.” He shuddered when he thought about the last bachelorette party they had done, they’d practically ripped the band’s clothes off before they could get out of there.

“Aww, well I’ll be there to shield you this time, sweetie.” You winked at him and moved a little closer to everyone. “Let’s practice, boys. Don’t want to give those girls cause to complain.”

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

It was the day of the gig, and you and Colin had decided to drive together to streamline things. He was waiting in your living room and tapping his foot nervously as he waited for you to finish getting ready, anxious about what actually performing with you would be like.

“Y/N, we need to go!” He never thought you would be the type to take forever getting ready.

“Yeah, I know!” You strolled out to the living room with a grin on your face and he had to swallow a groan. “How do I look?”

“Good, really good.” The way he was looking at you made your grin grow even wider.

The outfit wasn’t even that special, just a denim mini skirt and a tight v-neck tee with a leather jacket. Oh, and thigh high leather boots. It was definitely the boots he was staring at, his eyes trained on the few inches of bare skin between the top of the boots and the hem of your skirt. You gave him a couple minutes to just stare at you before rolling your eyes and strolling towards your front door, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him after you.

“C’mon Shea, we don’t wanna be late.” You scolded, shoving his amp into his hand and slinging his guitar case over your shoulder before heading down the stairs.

He had trouble focusing on the road as he drove you to the bar the party was going to be at, all he wanted to do was memorize the way you looked in that outfit. It was like someone told you exactly what to wear to drive him crazy. Maybe bringing you into this gig hadn’t been the best idea, because all he wanted to do right now was pull over and let you ride him while you weren’t wearing anything except for those boots and that jacket, and maybe whatever lingerie you had on under that outfit.

“Colin, you’re going to miss the turn.” Your voice snapped him out of his little daydream, and he cursed as he took the turn towards the bar a little faster than he would have liked.

“Sorry, just got a little distracted.” He mumbled, slowing down as he turned into the alley behind the bar and put the car in park behind Matt’s van.

The rest of the band was already unloading, waving at you two as Colin shut off his vehicle and you stepped out. You actually gave Craig and Keith little side hugs before you started helping with the unloading, he hadn’t realized you guys had gotten that close over the past week, and for some reason it made him smile.

“How’s it going man?” He didn’t know how he felt about the look Matt was giving him as he helped carry the bass drum inside, it felt suggestive of something. “Y/N seems excited to be here.”

“Yeah, I thought she might be nervous about performing but she’s handling everything like a pro.” He watched you laugh at something Brad said as you worked on connecting your mic. “Maybe we should make her an official member.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Matt just shrugged, laughing when Colin rounded on him and started spluttering.

“I was joking! We can’t just ask Y/N to be in the band!” Could they? Having you around had been a lot of fun, and the band dynamic had helped alleviate some of the tension that had been growing between you two. But seeing you tonight looking like you did and knowing that you were gonna have to have some on stage chemistry to make this work was making him think twice about things. You got a little intense during rehearsals, and the added pressure of being on stage might make him combust if you kicked it up at all.

Matt shook his head at him and set to assembling his kit while the rest of the band started tuning and connecting their instruments. You just sat on a stool and sipped some water, running through a couple vocal exercises absentmindedly as you scrolled through your phone. It only took a couple of minutes for everyone to finish setting up and then it was mic checks all around.

Everything sounded good and balanced after a couple adjustments and the sound guys gave you the thumbs up to start warming up. Colin couldn’t stop watching you. You were so unbelievably relaxed on stage and it was just endearing you to him even more. He thought for sure you would have been a bundle of nerves but you seemed to be right in your element, tossing him a couple of lazy grins over your shoulder as you ran through a couple of songs before the partygoers started filtering in.

The band switched to doing some instrumental ambience shit while they waited for the party to really get going, and Colin wandered over to talk to you when you took a step back from your mic.

“Still feeling ok about this?” He asked, beaming back at the soft smile you gave him.

“Yeah, I’m excited.” You bounced on your toes a little, adrenaline flooding your veins as the crowd grew. “Think I’ll get any bras thrown at me?”

“You never know with bachelorettes.” He laughed, strolling back over to his own mic so he could introduce the band.

If he thought jamming with you was special, it was nothing compared to watching you perform. You were a goddamn natural, coming alive and feeding off the crowd’s energy until you were completely lost in the music. Every time his eyes met yours you were grinning at him, and your chemistry with the rest of the band was palpable.

Not to mention, you kept drifting close to him on the stage, brushing your hand over his shoulders or leaning against him when you harmonized and it was making his knees weak. , God, he could do this with you every night, even though he was pretty sure he was going to need to sneak into the bathroom to jerk off afterwards.

The show was over too soon, the extremely drunken crowd of rowdy bachelorettes finally getting crazy enough that the band was ready to make a hasty escape. You were bouncing on your toes with residual energy as you started helping the guys pack up their instruments, grabbing Colin’s amp after he shoved his guitar in the case and you both made a run for it to his car when a wobbly woman started to try to climb on the stage.

“Colin, holy fuck that was so much fun!” You managed to make it to the alley unscathed and were giving him the most heartbreaking grin. “We’re definitely doing this again.”

“Yeah? Well you did a great fucking job.” Goddamn it, he’d missed you. “We can do whatever you want, honey.”

“Really?” You slammed the trunk closed and started to prowl closer to him. “Whatever I want?”

“That is what I said.” He could feel his voice dropping into that low register that meant he was in desperate need of some sort of release, so he really hoped he wasn’t misreading this situation. “Why? Did you want something now?”

“I think I do.” Your chest was right against his and you could feel it heaving, gazing at him through your lashes while you ran your fingers over his abs. “I stole the keys to the van.”

“And, you wanna go on a joy ride?” He breathed deep when you brushed your lips over his, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you close.

“Or, we could just fuck in the back while the rest of the guys search for these.” You pulled back a little and jingled the keys in his face, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth while he ran his hands over your hips.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” He smashed his lips to yours and let out a low moan, his fingers digging into your ass while the two of you stumbled towards the side door of the van.

You fumbled with the keys for a minute because you didn’t want to take your mouth off Colin for any reason, but then you were sliding the door open and the two of you were falling inside in a tangle of limbs before somehow managing to kick the door closed behind you. Trying to undress each other was a little difficult with how wrapped up you were in each other but you managed, tossing your garments away haphazardly as your tongues curled tangled together. Colin grabbed your hands when you went to remove your boots, pulling them up to his face and kissing your palms before winding your arms around his neck.

“Keep those on.” His voice was a low growl and fuck, you forgot how sexy he was.

“Well, cannot say I’m surprised you're a little kinky, Col.” You wound your fingers through his hair and yanked, purring at the groan he gave you. “I’m gonna suck that pretty dick of yours, but then I’ll give it to you nice and rough.”

“God, baby.” He wished he didn’t sound so whiny when you started kissing your way down his chest, but he hadn’t gotten any release except from his hand for the past two weeks and he really needed you to keep doing what you were doing. “I’ll take whatever you give me.”

“Yeah? Knew you were a good boy.” You winked at him when you started kissing the skin above the band of his boxer briefs before you were yanking them down his thighs and immediately licking a heavy stripe up the underside of his cock when it sprung up against his abs.

Colin had to brace a hand against the side of the van when you worked him over, spitting on his tip and watching it drip down his length before spreading it over him with your lips. You wrapped your hand around his shaft and gave him a nice, smooth stroke as you ducked down between his length to press gentle kisses over his balls while you jerked him off. He almost choked on his tongue when you wrapped your lips around his sack and tugged softly, the hum you let out sending a vibration up his spine while your thumb swiped over his swollen tip.

The sounds he was making from just a handjob were enough to soak through the thin lace of your panties, and when he shouted your name when you moved a little lower and teased your tongue over his asshole, well you almost fucking came just from that. You couldn’t believe you had stupidly waited two fucking weeks before indulging in this man again, you finally felt like yourself again. It was driving you absolutely crazy, the way his hips were wriggling underneath you spurring you on until you couldn’t take it any more.

If he thought your hand was incredible, it was nothing compared to the feel of your lips wrapped around his tip while your tongue swirled around his sensitive head. With all the women he’d slept with, he’d definitely suffered through some mediocre and downright disappointing blow jobs. But you felt like you were about to suck the soul out of him, and you’d only just started.

“Ah, Christ.” He was going to pass out if you kept going like this, your mouth was like fucking heaven. “Honey, fuck.”

You shot him a wicked look when you started bobbing your head, taking him just a little deeper each time while your tongue curled around him as much as possible. Then you opened your throat and swallowed him whole and he lost his mind.

He wrapped his hand in your hair and held your head still as he started fucking your throat, his hips bucking wildly while you choked and sputtered around him. Drool was running down your chin and soaking his thighs as you started breathing through your nose, digging your fingers into his thighs while he used you like a fuck toy. You kept your tongue pressed flat against your bottom teeth to avoid choking on it, moaning softly when you tasted the salty tang of his precum hit your tongue. His grip on your hair was growing painful, and you could tell by the way his abs were twitching that he was close.

“Wait, ah shit!” He somehow managed to gather enough self control to pull out of your mouth, groaning at the long string of saliva that kept you connected even as you bit at your swollen lips. “I’m not coming unless it’s in that pretty pussy. How do you want it?”

“Fuck me from behind, Col.”

He growled as he sat up and smashed his lips to yours, savoring the taste of himself on your tongue before flipping your over and burying his face in your hair. You let out a low moan when he slammed into you with no warning, gasping at the punishing pace he was setting and purring when he started mouthing at your neck.

The van was shaking like some sort of cliche while Colin fucked into you with abandon, his hips bouncing off your ass in an obscene display while the two of you whined and panted together. Colin was going to lose his fucking mind, two weeks with barely even talking to you and now he was finally inside you it was all he could do to not go completely feral.

“Oh god, honey.” He was practically whining against your skin when you clenched around him, sucking your ear lobe between his lips while you arched your back and purred for him. “Fuck, you’re so tight and wet. Pussy so fucking good. Tell me you’re close, I need to feel you come.”

“So close, Colin, shit!” You gasped when he hit you deep, curling your body backwards around him and reaching over your shoulder to wind your fingers through his hair and press his lips to yours. “Need that dick so bad. Feel so good when you’re inside me.”

“I know, baby, I know.” He wound one hand around your neck and the other arm around your waist, holding you close while he kissed you deeply and swallowed your wanton mewls with a deep groan. “Come for me.”

His hips ground against you and you slapped the floor of the van when you came, sobbing into his mouth and vibrating underneath him while your pussy strangled his cock. Your teeth nipped at his lips once you were finished, humming happily as he continued fucking you through your high.

“Need more, Colin.” You whimpered when he started slowing down, trying to thrust your hips back towards him as you tried to bring yourself to the edge again. “Harder, I need it.”

“Fuck, I’ll give you whatever you fucking want.” He tugged at your lips with his teeth, squeezing your neck gently and groaning at your soft whimper as you clenched around him. “Jesus Christ, you feel so fucking good.”

You couldn’t respond when he started pounding into you furiously, the way his cock was punching against your soft walls making it a little hard to breathe, never mind thinking. He was hitting every spot you needed him to with each thrust, grunting into your ear each time his hips slammed into you until he felt your breath hitch.

Every time he bottomed out you thought you were going to pass out, the tip of his cock punching against your cervix and making you see stars. It was so good, he was hitting you so deep and smooth you couldn’t believe you’d been denying yourself for so long.

Colin growled when a particularly vicious push had your entire body rising off the floor of the van, your fluttering sigh sending a shiver of pleasure through his body. One more thrust and you lost it, screaming with ecstasy as every muscle in your body vibrated and you squirted all over Colin’s thighs and the floor.

“Fuck, fuck, baby.” Colin was desperate, his rhythm completely gone as he chased his own end while you fluttered around him. “Gonna fill this pretty little pussy up until I’m leaking outta you for the next week.”

“Oh god, please.” Your eyes rolled up in your head while you let him use you, his lips tracing your jaw hungrily as you pushed your hips back to meet his. “Give it to me, Colin.”

He buried his face in your neck and let out a strangled cry when his hips stuttered, thick, warm ropes of white shooting against your soft walls until he was collapsing on top of you with a sated moan. You tangled your fingers with his above your head as your breathing regulated, his breath hot on your neck while the two of you melted into each other.

“We’re not waiting two weeks again, right?” Colin’s arms wrapped around you as he nuzzled into your hair, his lips spreading in a slow smile when he felt you purr contentedly.

“Nope. I’m definitely gonna need this to happen on the regular.” You turned a little so you could rub your nose against his. “You know, in between our other, normal escapades.”

“Right.” His heart fell a little at that, but maybe just interspersing his trysts with you with his other one night stands would help flush his crush on you out of his system.

Before he had a chance to say anything else there was a sudden pounding at the van door, snapping the two of you out of your haze with a pair of exasperated groans.

“Shea!!!” You untangled yourselves as you started to pull on your clothes. “That had better be Y/N in there! If you sad fucked some bachelorette and we have to listen to you sing stupid breakup songs for the next month I’m going to kill you!”

[xjoonchildx]

snapshot | jhs x reader

summary: after a day at the beach, hoseok has some surprises in store for his longtime love

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: fluff, smut, fluff OH MY GOD SO MUCH FLUFF y'all i apologize

word count: 4.7K

notes: this fic is a commission fic for the lovely @wwilloww as part of the @armyadvocates fundraising initiative to stop hate crimes against AAPI. miss willow asked for an old house, candles and soft smut as well as a mystery box. i did my best to deliver on all counts because willow is amazing and deserves all good things.

thanks go to @hobi-gif @ladyartemesia and @btsarmy9593 for beta reading parts of this story, thanks so much for keeping me on track ladies! a very special shoutout to @sahmfanficbts who helped me come up with a very *key* part of this plot.

warnings: no one dies? no one is in danger of dying? who am i? standard smut, unprotected sex. liberal sunscreen use. low air quality due to paint fumes and sawdust. references to yoongi, who we can assume is cranky offscreen, references to @untaemedqueen first suggestion of what was in the box.

Warm.

Hoseok is so warm right now, inside and out. He stretches his long body out on the length of his beach lounger, enjoying the feeling of the sun beating down on his skin. His buzz is mellow and pleasant. He lets his eyes drift shut, lulled into a lazy calm by the sounds he can hear all around him.

The steady lap of the waves against the shore. Kids laughing as they run around on the sand. Off in the distance, a bluetooth speaker thumps out a song that’s too far away for him to recognize. And after a few minutes, another sound.

Your bright laughter, carried to him on the breeze.

God, he loves that sound.

“You are such a lightweight,” you tease. Hoseok can hear the smile in your voice. “Two beers and you pass out on me.”

He cracks one eye open to find you standing beside his lounger. The early evening sunlight streams through the strands of your dark hair and warms your bronzed skin, bathing you in a kind of golden halo. He gazes up at you, languid and content.

“I’m not passed out,” he argues with a slow grin. “I’m relaxing. Come relax with me.”

Hoseok doesn’t give you a chance to accept his offer, leaning up to grab your hand and pull you down into the narrow space beside him. You laugh when he wraps his arms and legs around you like a starfish, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“I’m just enjoying the perfect day,” he murmurs, nosing at the back of your ear, “With my perfect girl.”

“Flatterer.”

Hoseok can’t see you rolling your eyes, but he knows you’re doing it anyway. Just like he can’t see the way you flush and he knows you’re doing that, too.

“We should eat,” you say after a while, shivering when he strokes the pads of his fingers up the soft skin of one bare leg. “Grab something before we have to take the bikes back.”

Hoseok hums under his breath as he slides his palm up the curve of your thigh, boldly searching for trouble under the hem of your sundress. You bat his hand away and he laughs, hugging you tighter.

“Alright,” he agrees in a whisper, ghosting his lips down the nape of your neck. You jolt in his arms when he sinks his teeth into the curve of your shoulder, nipping playfully. “Just a quick bite.”

There’s not much difference between a sundress and a négligée is there?

Certainly not from where Hoseok is sitting, anyway.

He studies you as he rides close behind, watching the way your hair whips in the breeze as you pedal. One delicate sundress strap slips down your sun-warmed shoulder, exposing just a bit more of your back. Then the wind grabs a hold of your sheer skirt, lifting it just long enough for Hoseok to get a glimpse of the pretty white panties underneath.

God, he loves those panties.

Could stare at them all day, really.

But instead he forces himself to pedal faster and take the lead, grinning when you take note of his advance and glare. It’s for the best because while you think this is just some meandering evening ride, he’s the only one who knows where you’re really headed. For the best because if he falls off his bike and breaks his face because he’s too busy staring at your ass, the entire night will be ruined before it has the chance to start.

It’s quiet on this street just a few blocks from the shore.

Dolmeori Beach is rockier, more wooded than the beaches preferred by most tourists and that’s always suited Hoseok just fine. When he was a kid, he’d steal away when the weather was warm and hop the train here from Gwangju any chance he got.

It’s always felt like his place, his personal piece of sea and sand.

Pine trees loom high over the pavement, canopies so dense they block out much of the waning sunlight streaming down from above. The shade beneath the leaves makes the heat bearable, but it also makes it hard to judge the time. Hoseok steals a quick look at his watch.

Right on schedule. He hopes Yoongi followed his instructions to the letter.

“Hurry up, slowpoke,” he teases over his shoulder, and he chuckles at the sound of frustration you make as you pedal faster to catch up. It takes a few seconds for you to coast into position at his side.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” you fuss, “Wanna clue me in?”

Hoseok turns his head to smile at you, sly like a fox.

“You’ll find out when we get there.”

The realtor had said the place would need a little love.

Turns out, it needs a lot more than a little. But Hoseok was able to see right past the weathered wooden porch and salt air-worn paint right away. When he found this place online, he knew it was the one.

He slows his bike to a stop as the two of you make your approach, taking note of the warm light that glows just behind the frosted glass pane in the front door. Looks like Yoongi came through.

“What is this place?” you ask, skidding to a stop beside him. You stand over your bike on tiptoes as you survey the house, brow knit in confusion.

“It’s a surprise,” Hoseok grins, hopping off his bike. He shoves the kickstand into place and offers you his hand, which you accept with a suspicious smile. “Wanna go in?”

“Yeah sure,” you shrug. “We’ve probably already stolen these bikes. What’s a little breaking and entering on top of that?”

Hoseok laughs, leading the way to the front door.

He cringes when the porch floorboards creak loudly beneath his feet, making a mental note to put that project next on his to-do list. You stand with arms crossed, watching silently as he crouches down to lift the mat at the front door, fingers feeling beneath for the concealed key.

You stop him with fingers wrapped around his forearm when he gets to his feet.

“Wait,” you whisper frantically. “We can’t just walk into someone’s house, Hoseok.”

He chuckles before leaning down to kiss the adorable confusion right off your face. Then he slides his key into the lock and pushes the door wide open.

“Not someone’s house,” he corrects, watching you peer skeptically inside.

You step slowly through the threshold and scan the candle-lit front room before turning to him with wide eyes.

“Our house.”

“You bought a beach house.”

It’s the third time you’ve said it by now, and not once has the hushed observation been directed at Hoseok. You said it when you brushed your fingertips over the freshly-dried spackle on the living room wall, said it again as you passed your hand over the base coat of stain on the mantle over the fireplace.

You say it again as you turn to him, jaw slack with disbelief.

“You bought a beach house.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok admits sheepishly, uncertain of your reaction. He tries to see the room the way you must see it now, candles and tools scattered across the tables, floors covered in drop cloths, cans of paint and plaster stacked up in the corners.

Yoongi had done a decent job of clearing up most of the clutter before he left, but judging by the astonishment on your face, he’s probably been romanticizing the mess in here.

He’d really hoped to have a lot more done the first time he brought you here, but he’s learned the hard way that some home renovation projects don’t go as smoothly in real life as they do on YouTube. The process has been a bit of trial and error, with a lot more error than he’d originally counted on.

“I know it doesn’t look like a whole lot right now,” he says, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck, “But it’s going to look great when I’m done. Yoongi helped me sand all week.”

You shake your head like you’re coming out of a daze.

“Oh my god Hoseok, no -- ” you vow with a shaky laugh, “ -- no, this is incredible. This is amazing. I’m in shock.”

“Yeah?” Hoseok grins, relief melting over him. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted -- ”

“ -- Wait,” you interrupt, one brow quirked high as you step closer. “You said… you said something important. You said this was our house.”

“Did I?”

You narrow your dark eyes at him and he chuckles uncomfortably, nerves kicking in for the first time tonight. The feeling -- and the occasion both call for more booze. Which he’s prepared for.

“Are you going to give me a tour?” you ask.

“Later,” he says. “After.”

“After what, Hoseok? You’re killing me slowly with all this suspense.”

“Hang out here for a second,” he instructs, ducking into the small kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”

It takes him no time at all to find the bottle of Moet he’s stashed in the fridge and the clean champagne flutes tucked away into the corner of his dutifully-dusted kitchen cabinet. He double-checks the contents of the box on the counter, making sure everything is in place.

Then he takes a deep breath.

Your brows lift in surprise when he walks back into the room with that box in his hands. You watch him set it down on the floor, saying nothing when he turns back to retrieve the champagne and glasses.

When he finally returns, you’re on your knees -- examining the package. Lips pursed thoughtfully as you press your fingers to the gold flecks on the fabric lid.

“Hoseok,” you whisper, flicking your gaze up to find his. “I have so many questions right now.”

You look so damned beautiful in this candlelight -- like you brought your golden glow from the beach indoors. Like you absorbed the sun’s rays and you’re emitting them now like some kind of superpower.

“Have a drink with me,” he murmurs, “And I’ll answer them.”

Something in the room shifts then; the temperature changes. The silly fun of the afternoon evaporates, leaving behind something heavy and heady. Hoseok knows you feel it too, when your half-smile slowly drops and you pull your lower lip between your teeth.

“Okay,” you agree softly, “Let’s have a drink.”

You watch him with those focused dark eyes as he pops the champagne. The drink bubbles over the lip of both flutes as he pours, on account of his haste and shaky hands. Then you take one of the glasses in hand and offer him the other, which he quickly accepts.

“To this surprise housewarming,” you declare, raising your flute for a toast.

Hoseok clinks his glass against yours, taking note of the way you watch him carefully over the lip of your glass as you’re tilting back the flute to take a sip. He decides he can’t keep you -- or himself -- in suspense any longer.

“You know how special you are to me, right?”

You make a face.

“Did you bring me to your new house to break up with me?”

Hoseok’s startled laugh turns into a cough and tears prick his eyes as champagne bubbles blaze a path up his sinuses.

“Yes,” he says dryly, once he’s managed to collect himself. ��I figured dumping you by candlelight sounded like the most romantic option.”

You tip your head back when you laugh, light playing off the curve of your neck, your collarbones, the tiny gold pendant that sits in the pretty dip at the base of your throat.

God, he loves your skin.

Hoseok looks at you long and hard before lifting his flute to take a long drink.

“This is for you,” he says quietly, acknowledging the box out loud for the first time.

“What’s in it?”

“A human head,” Hoseok snorts, flinching when you reach over to pinch his leg. “Don’t be a pain. Just open it.”

Your eyes light with excitement as you smooth your hands over the lid and Hoseok can’t help but smile. But your excitement turns into confusion the moment you open the box and find the neat row of plain white envelopes inside.

“What is this?”

“Quit asking me questions,” Hoseok deadpans, pouring himself another drink. He tops off your glass, too. “And start at the front.”

You shake your head with a wry smile as you work the first envelope open, slipping your fingers in between the paper folds to fish out the contents inside. Hoseok sips his champagne as you produce the polaroid photo, head cocked to the side as you study it.

It was cold that day, he remembers that. You’d been bundled up in a pretty scarf and matching belted coat. In the photo, the mid-morning sun flares behind you, illuminating your profile as you squint up at a display of laminated menus.

“This is me,” you murmur, mouth quirking into a disbelieving smile, “At the coffee truck outside of work.”

“Yup.”

“We’d just started dating.”

“Yup.”

“How did you take this without me noticing?”

“Easy,” Hoseok laughs. “You stared at that menu for five minutes straight. I’ve never seen someone take coffee selection so seriously. Thought you were gonna order the most complicated drink in history.”

You roll your eyes but you laugh. So does he.

“Turn it over.”

You flip the polaroid over in your hands, eyes moving over the neat block handwriting on the back.

coolest girl i ever met

“This is the day I knew I liked you,” Hoseok murmurs, “Like, really liked you.”

Your eyes are a bit glassy when you look up at him now, the corner of your mouth tugging into a soft smile.

“You were that sure that fast, huh?” “Yeah,” he admits, scratching self-consciously at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I was.”

You move onto the next envelope, this time prepared when you pull out yet another polaroid picture. This one is harder to place, taken in the dark, mostly black but for a few splashes of vivid light.

“I don’t know this one,” you frown, ghosting your finger across one particularly colorful blur of red and gold. “I can’t make it out.”

You turn the polaroid over, looking once again for Hoseok’s neat block letters.

she’s into me

You laugh out loud.

“That was the lantern festival in Cheonggyecheon,” Hoseok explains. “I’d invited you, but you’d had plans, remember? And I was just going to get Yoongi to go with me but you called me last minute to say you’d decided to come.”

“I remember,” you say with a smile. “Yeri invited me to a movie, but I cancelled on her. I wanted to hang out with you instead.”

“Yeah, well that’s the night I knew you really liked me.”

“Cocky,” you smirk, reaching for another envelope. “But warranted.”

Your eyes light with recognition the moment you pull the next picture out. You’re crouched down at the edge of his mother’s koi pond, one finger making ripples on the surface of the water.

“First time we ever went to Gwangju together,” you muse quietly. “First time I met your parents.”

You flip the polaroid over.

pretty sure my mom loves her more than she loves me

“Okay, this might actually be true,” you tease, taking a sip of your champagne. “Your mom and dad love me.”

“Yeah, well that was the day I decided I loved you, too,” Hoseok chuckles. “The point where I kind of knew there was no turning back.”

You look up from the photograph then, eyes glassy with emotion when they find his. Candlelight flickering across your face as you look at him fondly.

“You still feel that way?”

“Hell yeah, I do,” he laughs, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Keep going.”

The next polaroid is a selfie of Hoseok in bed but it’s by no means sexual. There are dark circles under his eyes and his skin has a sallow tint. Next to his pillow, the bedside table is littered with cold medicine and empty cups.

“Is this when you had the flu?” you ask, flipping the polaroid over. The neat block lettering on the back confirms your theory.

she took care of me

“You were so pitiful,” you laugh, shaking your head at the memory. “Wrapped up in your blankets like a burrito. I swear, men have zero tolerance for discomfort.”

“I nearly died,” Hoseok protests dramatically. “But you dropped everything to come take care of me. That’s the day I knew you loved me, too.”

Your smile is brilliant now, open and sweet as you reach for the last remaining envelope. Hoseok takes another swig of champagne, slugging it down as you pull out the polaroid and study the image.

You are wearing your delicate sundress, leaned up against the wooden railing that separates the sand and rocks. Standing just next to your bike, nose in the air as you breathe in the salt carried on the wind.

“This is today,” you murmur, brows knitting together when you flip the picture over and find the back side blank. “And you haven’t written anything here.”

“Yeah, well,” Hoseok starts and stops, clearing his throat. “I haven’t had a chance to write it in yet.”

“Oh.”

“That’s the day I asked you to marry me.”

“Oh.”

You blink. Once, then again. Hoseok can hear the shaky breath you take in when your mouth parts in surprise. He sets his champagne flute down, sufficiently bolstered by the booze.

“So that’s what I’m doing right now. I’m asking you to marry me.”

You’re still mute with shock, eyes wide as they go from Hoseok to the picture and back to Hoseok again.

“But uh, the longer you don’t say anything, the less confident I feel about this entire plan,” he chuckles awkwardly.

You take him off balance when you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your thighs around his waist. He keeps you both from toppling over with a palm flat to the floor, laughing as you pepper his face with kisses.

“So is that a yes?”

“Yes,” you sigh, pressing your lips to his temple, his neck, his jaw. “Yes. To you and to these amazing pictures and to this beach house. Yes to all of it.”

You pull away from him to grab the champagne, eyes flashing mischievously as you take a drink straight from the bottle. “Yes to champagne, too.”

Hoseok feigns shock. “Naughty.”

You kiss him deeply then, thoroughly, enough for him to feel the remnants of the carbonation on your tongue. You tease him with a barely there roll of your hips and his cock responds instantaneously, at the mercy of the warm friction he can feel straight through the thin material of his board shorts.

“You know what I’m thinking?” you murmur against his mouth.

“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah,” Hoseok chuckles, sucking a breath between his teeth when you bite the skin just below his ear.

“We have a lot to celebrate, right?” you reason, tone light. “But we came here for a housewarming.”

You lean back just far enough to pull your sundress over your head, tossing it carelessly aside, leaving you in nothing but those pretty white panties he loves so much.

“So we should warm it.”

Hoseok grins, pulling the champagne bottle out of your grip. He turns it up just like you did, finishing what’s left before setting it back down.

“I like the way you think.”

The only bedroom in this house is buried beneath a two-inch thick layer of sawdust right now.

Not that making it to a bedroom seems high on your list of priorities.

The fact that you’re both sitting on top of a drop cloth on Hoseok’s living room floor isn’t stopping you from threading your fingers into his hair, slipping your tongue into his mouth, grinding against his lap.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” you laugh, pressing your bare breasts to his chest once he’s managed to untangle himself from your limbs long enough to shrug out of his shirt. Your pebbled nipples drag across the lithe planes of his chest and his cock jumps in his shorts.

“Clever.”

“That’s me,” Hoseok murmurs against your lips, deft fingers slipping beneath the damp cotton between your thighs. He slides the pad of one long finger across your wet slit and you gasp, rocking against it.

“Gotta get you out of these panties,” he laments, pulling one nipple into his mouth and working it with his teeth. You shudder in his hold. “Quick.”

“What are you in such a hurry for?” you tease, circling your hips to chase the perfect pressure of his fingertips. “We have all night.”

“We have about three more minutes if you keep grinding on me like this,” Hoseok laughs, shifting your bodies to lean you back onto the floor. “So give me a break because I want to enjoy this.”

You lie back for him dutifully, dark hair spilling onto the drop cloth around you, skin gleaming in the candlelight. Your gold pendant twinkles at the base of your neck.

God, he loves the way you look like this.

Flushed with excitement and anticipation. Like a feast laid out just for him. He rids himself of those pesky board shorts as fast as he can, leaning over you on hands and knees.

“You’re gonna marry me,” he muses, burying his face into the soft skin under your jaw. “You already said yes, can’t take it back now.”

Your laughter is echoing in his ears as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, across the bronzed planes of your shoulder. He can taste the day on your skin; the ocean salt and sunscreen mixed with that flavor that’s so uniquely you.

“I don’t want to take it back,” you sigh, whimpering when Hoseok kisses a path down the velvety skin between your breasts. He travels lower, kissing just below your bellybutton as he starts working your panties off with one hand. “I’m gonna keep you.”

Hoseok chuckles as he tosses your panties away, off to somewhere unimportant. What’s important is the way you take a deep breath and hold it when his mouth hovers coyly over your cunt.

“Look at me,” he directs, peering up at you from beneath heavy eyelids. You open your eyes to meet his gaze, candlelight dancing over your pretty face.

“I love you,” he breathes, lowering his mouth to make contact with your clit. The air leaves your lungs in that moment, a soft exhalation of air that makes the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end.

“I love you too,” you sigh, hips jerking at the contact, fingers digging hard into his hair. “So much.”

He knows you by now, knows how you like to be touched. Your rhythmic panting goes a bit ragged, when he slides two fingers into your cunt, crooking up to stroke you the way you like while his mouth works your clit.

God, he loves this part.

The part where you lose any semblance of control. The desperate sounds you make when you start to come apart beneath his mouth and hands.

“Hoseok -- “ your voice is strangled when you call out, “ -- Hobi, I’m gonna come.”

Something about the way you say his name goes straight to his dick. He grits his teeth when your nails dig almost painfully into his scalp as you start to tremble, shuddering against his mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothes, pinning your hips down with his strong hands, keeping you from pulling away from the pleasure that borders on pain. “That’s it. Sound so good when you come for me.”

Hoseok stays face first in your cunt, nose and tongue pressed against you, until he’s certain the last wave has come and gone. Between his own legs, his cock pulses painfully, leaking pre-come at the thought of finally being inside of you.

Your body twitches with the aftershocks of your release as he slowly kisses his way up your thighs, your mound, your stomach.

“How was that?” he asks with a teasing tilt to his mouth, stealing your ability to answer when he kisses you deeply, fitting his slim hips between your legs. He reaches down to grab his stiff cock, sliding it across your slick entrance. You clamp your thighs together to tighten the drag and he groans at the friction.

“Amazing,” you sigh, dragging your nails over his ass, up the lean muscles of his back. “Perfect. You should let me return the favor.”

His dick practically jumps at the suggestion, stomach contracting hard at the prospect of feeling your pretty mouth wrapped around it. But Hoseok is too worked up, too riled up by the alcohol and the excitement.

“Can’t tonight,” he pants, arousal shooting up his spine when you wrap one hand around his now-wet cock. You pump him lazily, trailing soft bites from his jaw to his shoulder. “Need to be inside of you.”

“Yeah, I’m ready for that too,” you admit, guiding the blunt head of his cock to your entrance.

He surges forward then, pushing past the tight grip of your fingers, groaning as he’s enveloped completely by your warm cunt. You whimper at the stretch, locking your legs around him, gasping when he bottoms out.

He pulls back to the tip only to drive in again, earning another strangled moan. You’re squirming beneath him, breathless and dewy, looking like some kind of wet dream.

“I’ll never get over how good it feels to be inside of you,” Hoseok admits, burying himself as deep as he humanly can into you.

You’re so wet he can feel you spilling out onto the base of his dick and for one fleeting moment he wishes you knew how good this feels for him. How wet and hot and tight you feel around him. How being inside of you like this makes his brain go haywire, reduces him to only instinct and need.

You lift your hips to meet each snap of his, the wet sound of your joining echoing off the walls in this mostly empty house.

He hears you moaning his name in between the other sounds you make, in between the panting and mewling that makes his balls tighten. You grip his forearms as he grinds against you, kissing you in between desperate breaths.

“I think I’m gonna come again,” you gasp against his mouth. “Don’t stop.”

“Oh, fuck,” Hoseok groans, pulling back to get to his knees. He hooks one of your legs over the crook of one strong forearm, using his one free hand to press a thumb to your clit. His rhythm falters as he watches himself slide in and out of you, hypnotized by the sight of his body joined to yours.

You lift your ass off the floor, back arching as you chase the pressure of his fingers. Hoseok strokes you desperately, feeling his orgasm looming menacingly at the base of his cock. It takes just a few more strained pumps of his hips to set you off.

The second he feels you clamp down around him, Hoseok folds back over you, arms braced on either side of you as he thrusts through his own orgasm. He shuts his eyes and groans as he empties his cock inside of you, thrusting until he can’t anymore.

He collapses onto you, heart racing as he tries to catch his breath.

“Don’t leave me,” you groan when Hoseok peels his damp skin away from yours to get to his feet.

He strides across the room, completely nude, grinning when you turn onto your side and go up on one elbow to ogle him.

“Just for a second,” he calls out, pulling out every unorganized drawer in the kitchen until he finally comes across a pen. “Gotta finish something.”

He makes a show of holding it in the air as he walks back into the living room, opening the gold-flecked box, and pulling out the last unmarked polaroid photo.

You’re smiling the entire time you watch him pen the last caption on the last photograph.

she said yes

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