#brown parenting is default awful and we know this

[beyonceisstraight]

Just watched "we need to talk about Kevin" and I've met children who were unable to bond to their mother's and were abused, children with selective mutism and kids with deep issues bordering on personality disorders. All the discussions online are normal people trying to figure out how the mother fucked up because they don't seem to understand story elements. It's a collective fuck up. The unsupported mother, the husband who gaslights her and ignore her warnings over and over, the doctor who should have set up a psyche eval bc the kid was 3 and not speaking. the parents not hiring therapists and going to one themselves.

I was 1 before I said a word and a year passed before I said another. I had what I'm very sure was a narcissistic mother. As an adult I scream when I think about how a quiet child was a good child for her bc it meant I made no noise to disturb her. She thought it was really funny that I didn't talk and only asked for water. She'd recount it often. She'd recount how I communicated with sound and gesture and she'd communicate right back rather than try to get me to talk.

To bring that back to the movie? Me emotionally neglected and showing many signs of my development being affected but also really smart as a child and perceptive of adults flew under the radar. A kid that's manipulating people on purpose and has no real empathy? A few adults will notice but in real life there's nothing to do. The little girl I knew of who was being abused could have nothing done bc there was no proof. Only what her principal could clue together. What people would say. Her mother was beating her as a toddler. She was only 3 and a half and you could see the intelligence behind her eyes seeking out which adult she could fawn to and get attention from. She did it with me for a while but I at least knew she was acting out. 3 and a half was not an age I'd guess a child was being beaten at. And only after weeks of interacting was anything said to me about it because she had a really bad morning because she had a really bad night. (This did not take place in the US so there's no body that functions the way CPS does. So proof was needed before anything could be reported.) Kevin? I know that boy. I didn't feel sympathy for that character bc you could see the adult that would come. His mother? She's always been his supply of sorts. The parents talk about divorce. Custody. The dad says custody is a no brainer. The mom was just accusing Kevin of harming their daughter. So Kevin would be stuck with the parent that would reject him if he actually dropped the mask: his dad. Solution: lock his mother to him forever. The only time she hugs him and shows affection is when he's off to adult prison. If he hadn't killed his father and sister she could be able to move on but she can't. All she's become now is the aftermath of what he did. The things he does builds in the film and the way he knows what will happen if he does something like murder, is because she says nothing when he kills his sisters pet. It's not enough that he killed it, he stuffs it down the drain for the disposal to churn up. And he knew she would do that and see and know and she instantly covers it up. That moment in the movie tells you what happened. The fire fighters cutting into the bike locks that he put on the school doors is a larger echo of the disposal grinding up his little sisters pet.

I don't get why people are diving into tilda swintons character. Eva isn't the main topic. The movie is called we need to talk about Kevin. Kevin's and their fucked up shit gets ignored and quietly covered until it spills out on other people. We need to talk about how there's a million million Kevin's out there right now. So insane that people get locked up in Eva and not Kevin. And you know what part of that I think is? Male violence is so normal that it's boring. It does not lend itself to being talked about because we'd be here all day. But we can blame the mother? She raised him sure but who put the weapons in his hands? His father. The metaphor is a snake biting the audience. His father is pretending for the entire movie. Pretending his son is normal. He plays pretend with his daughter. He's not connected to real life. He's never listening to women but blaming them. His solution to his wife thinking Kevin might harm his little sister again, is divorce. The divorce that Kevin overhears them talk about and then what does Franklin do? He pretends to Kevin that he didn't hear what he just heard. Tells Kevin he's heard something out of context. He starts to try to gaslight Kevin. Frank is the one who turns a blind eye to both what his wife wants and his son needs and projects the idea of big house and yard. The father that he is, is the type of father who ignores and supports only what he likes. What grown man would rather change a 7 year olds diapers than take the child to professional help? He avoids everything. And even in other people's discussion of this movie they never say anything about it.

One of the most common repeated patterns I see again and again in women with PDD is a partner who does fuck all. Now the baby has psychological issues. I've met women who walk barefoot in the sun to help their PDD so it won't affect their baby. The dad? Doing fuck all. The kid doesn't even have an honest bond with his dad bc that's not what his dad wants. His real self is reserved for his mother bc he knows she'll literally wipe his shit. Extremely dysfunctional family all around.

Anyway, we need to talk about white parenting and the monsters they keep raising.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E2; Chapter Two, The Weirdo On Maple Street - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘠/𝘯, 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴, 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

Lucas, Dustin and I take our seats once we get to class.

"Oh, that can't be good." I sigh, gesturing to Mike's empty seat.

"Yeah, he's never this late," Dustin added.

"I'm telling you, his stupid plan failed," Lucas stated.

"I thought you liked his plan?"

"Yeah, but obviously it's stupid, or he'd be here."

"If his mom found out a girl spent the night—" Dustin began.

"He's in deep shit right about now."

Dustin shifted in his seat, and leaned forward, whispering loud enough for us to hear. "Hey, what if she slept naked?"

"Ugh!" My face screws into a sour, disgusted look aimed at my brother, unintentionally speaking at the same time as Lucas. "Why would she do that, Dustin?"

"Oh, my God, she didn't."

"Oh, if Mrs. Wheeler tells our parents..."

The thought of Mom finding out was enough to elicit an anxious groan from me, and I let my forehead fall against desk where I buried my face.

"No way. Mike would never rat us out."

I hesitantly looked up, making eye contact with Lucas. He gave me a reassuring smile, knowing I worry easily.

"I don't know." Dustin said warily.

"All that matters is, after school, the freak will be back in the loony bin, and we can focus on what really matters, finding Will." I frown at his specific choice of words for El, thinking back on how scared she seemed last night. I desperately want to say something, but decided against it, not wanting to get in a fight. Fighting won't get us any closer to finding Will.

|| 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

Mike Wheeler rides his bike down the small slope of grass towards his front yard. When El refused to let Mike's mom know she was there, Mike had no choice but to resort to plan b. He had led his mom to believe that he had ridden to school when in reality he had stopped around the corner until both his parents were gone.

When he got to the driveway, he dismounted his bike and led it into the garage, however something caught his eye. He stared in awe as the once withered and frankly the most miserable looking plant he had ever seen in his life, was now a beautiful lush green and stood as tall his knees. 'How had Y/n done it?'

It took a solid moment for Mike to gather his thoughts and focus on the task at hand. He parked his bike and made his way inside.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"You want anything to drink?" Mike decided to take advantage of the empty house so that he could show El around. "We have OJ, skim milk... What else? Um, we have..."

Mike trailed off when he saw that El was more fascinated with the things in his living room, mostly his TV set.

"Oh, this is my living room. It's mostly just for watching TV."

El lightly traced her fingers around the frame of the TV as she examined it.

"Nice, right? It's a 22-inch.

That's, like, ten times bigger than Dustin's."

El turned her head and said quietly.

"Y/n."

"Well, yeah of course. Y/n too."

"Y/n. Brother?" She asked, making sure she remembered correctly.

"Yeah!" Mike smiled, then lightly shrugged. "Well, technically adopted. But yeah, they're still brothers."

El's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Ad-adopted?"

"Yeah, um, it means that he came from different parents. Mrs. Henderson adopted him because his parents were unable to take care of him. It's funny actually, Y/n is from Hawkins. Or at least that's where they found him. They didn't used to live in Hawkins; I don't know much about it cause Dustin was so young he doesn't remember any of it, but I think him and his mom were visiting family here and they just... found him, I think? I'm pretty sure that's why they moved here, or something."

El seemed to understand as she thought about it. She then turned to look at the all the pictures on top of the fireplace. She slowly walks to the fireplace and steps up onto the brick platform. She gazes at all the family photos. Particularly, the photo beside the one of Mike; of a smiling girl, a little older than herself, with long brown hair and a pink sweater.

She smiles longingly and speaks in a soft voice. "Pretty."

"I guess." Mike's face is contorted in confusion and a little in disgust.

"That's my sister Nancy. And that's baby Holly." He said as she moved to the slightly larger photo of a young baby. She then moved along to a photo with Mike, Nancy, and Holly, along with two other people she didn't recognize.

"And those are my parents. What are your parents like?" As usual, El says nothing and she steps down from the fireplace and walks up to a large green chair.

"Do they live close?" Mike continued. He notices El run her hand along the top of the plush green chair. "That's our La-Z-Boy. It's where my dad sleeps. You can try it if you want." He offers. El looked up at him, intrigued. "Yeah." He assured her, with a warm smile on his face. She cautiously sits down as Mike kneels down beside the chair. "It's fun!"

She looked to Mike, wondering what he is up to.

"Just trust me, okay?" She gives a quick nod, and braces herself, not knowing what to expect. She is taken aback by the sudden collapse of the chair, she is now laying down and the chair is rocking back and forth. She lets out a gasp, and then a nervous chuckle.

"See? Fun, right?"

With one hand on the back of the chair, and the other on the front, he brings the chair back into its default position. "Now you try."

With a small smile on her face, and feeling more confident she leans over the side and pulls the handle, letting her entire body go flying backward into a slow rock. Mike and El both look at each other and laugh gleefully.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Some random rock song on the radio that Jonathan barely recognized came to an end as Jonathan Byers drove to his dad's house. His eyes darted to the radio unit in his car for a moment as his heart fell when the familiar sound of "Should I Stay or Should I Go" rang throughout the car.

- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

"Darlin', you got to let me know"

Jonathan is sat on the edge of the bed next to his younger brother Will. The two of them are in Will's room, bobbing their heads along to 'Should I Stay or Should I Go' by The Clash.

"Should I stay or should I go?"

"You like it?" Jonathan had to raise his voice so he could be heard over the loud song. Will looks to his older brother and grins.

"Yeah, it's cool!"

"All right, you can keep the mix if you want."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. All the best stuff's on there. Joy Division, Bowie, Television, The Smith's... It'll totally change your life."

"Yeah, totally," Will says with a smile. However, the smile is quick to leave when the two boys hear their mother yelling on the phone.

"Where the hell are you, Lonnie?"

Will slowly turns his head to the door, listening to his mother yell at his absent father.

"I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear it." Jonathan mimics his brother's actions and looks to the door. Finally, he gets up and walks towards the door.

"This is ridiculous! I'm so sick of your excuses.

"One day is fine and next is black"

Before Jonathan sits down, he lowers the volume on the stereo.

"He's not coming, is he?"

"Do you even like baseball?" Jonathan asks softly.

"No, but... I don't know." He shrugs sadly. "It's fun to go with him sometimes."

"Come on. Has he ever done anything with you that you actually like? You know, like the arcade or something?"

Will shrugs his shoulders weakly. "I don't know."

"No, all right? He hasn't. He's trying to force you to like normal things. And you shouldn't like things because people tell you you're supposed to. Okay?"

Will only looks down at his feet sadly.

"Especially not him."

Will silently nods his head in understanding.

Jonathan decided to change the subject.

"But you like The Clash? For real?"

Will nods his head eagerly with a smile. "For real. Definitely."

"So... is Y/n a fan of The Clash?" Jonathan asks, genuinely curious.

A faint blush dusts Will's cheeks as he looks down at his hands. "Um, yeah, I think so."

"Maybe you should show this to him. I bet he'll like it."

"Maybe. You think?"

"Yeah, from what I know, he has great taste. He's pretty cool."

A loving smile spreads across Will's face. "Yeah, he is pretty cool."

There's a small pause filled only with the now dulled melody of drums and guitar drifting through the air. They had talked about it before, but only vaguely, never fully addressing it and it dawned on Jonathan that there was probably still loads of fear for Will because of it. He looks down at his brother who he loved more than anything and sent him an encouraging, honest smile.

"Will, you guys are best friends. You two are just too close to ruin the friendship. Why don't you think about asking him to the arcade or something? Just the two of you, maybe come back here for some mac and cheese or something if that'd make you feel safer, and you could " he shrugs. "let him know how you feel?"

Will looked up at his brother, shocked. But his body was flushed with relief, he could feel the air in the room hitting his sweaty and clammey skin giving him chills. Not quite knowing how to handle his brothers reaction, his eyes simply fall to his hands where they fidgeting in his lap.

"But what if that does ruin the friendship? What if he doesn't feel the same way, and decides to stop hanging out with me. Or if someone finds out- I just- I just can't. I'm not ready."

"That's okay. All I'm saying is, he is way too nice to be the kind of person who would do that. And you are way too important to him. And hey, if you ever do feel ready, or you guys do go out in the future..." Jonathan trails off, sensing the awkwardness creep up. He chuckles and looks back to his brother.

"All I'm trying to say is, I'm here for you. Always."

Will smiles gratefully and Jonathan leans forward to the volume back up.

"Should I stay or should I go? So you gotta let me know, should I stay or should I go?"

- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

[mmvalentine]

The Pianist pt 2 | Jurdan

Modern AU. Read part 1 part 3.

Jude was having a good day.

The landlord had been ignoring her emails, as usual, but somehow Cardan had had a quiet week this week. She would have thought he was away, or sick or something, had she not been seeing him with his friends in their regular booth at the diner. And even those pricks couldn’t get her down today.

She whistled as she tied on her apron.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Van commented.

“I am,” Jude replied. “Someone left me fifty bucks this morning.”

Van whistled. “Damn, which cafe has those kind of tips?” he asked.

“None of them,” Jude told him. “I was busking at the subway station.”

Jude always spent her free time busking. It was mostly for fun, but she did derive an amount of satisfaction knowing that any of her money, even if it was just a few dollars at a time, came from her singing.

“Well I hate to bring you down, but you’ve got table 13 this morning.”

“I know,” Jude said, sticking her notebook in her apron pocket and picking up the coffee pot. “But you know what? I don’t care today.”

Jude strolled to her table, and stared around at them with a grim determination. The table's usual occupants stared back.

Nicasia, a beautiful dancer with blue hair. Twenty years ago, her mother was the principal dancer at New York City Ballet, and she now sat on the board of directors.

Valerian, an actor who got into a punch up the previous year when he lost a role and nearly got expelled. His parents were wealthy and connected enough that he wasn't.

Locke, who wrote plays and scripts and was vaguely known to dabble in music and dance as well. His father was a Broadway producer and a few of Locke's works had been staged in small theaters already.

And Cardan. The beautiful, talented, awful, hedonistic pianist himself.

"Hello and welcome to Elfhame's diner, what can I get for you?"

She didn't bother with the sickly sweet smile she usually put on for customers. These people were the worst, and she would simply maintain her dignity and not let them get to her. The fifty dollar note was warm in her bra, like a good luck charm.

"Hey... Jude," Nicasia said, peering at Jude's nametag like they hadn't been coming to this diner and served by her several times a week for the past four years. Valerian burst into a Beatles chorus. "You know," she continued, "I've seen you around."

Jude rolled her eyes. "Yes, I've only been working in this diner since you guys started coming here, so you've probably seen me before."

"No," Nicasia said. "Not here."

"Well," Jude responded impatiently. "I also work at Mab's Tavern and Java Island. Girl's gotta eat. I'm 'around'."

But Nicasia shook her head. "No honey, I've seen you seen you. You sing outside the Lincoln Centre subway station."

Jude froze. It was more than confirmation enough for Nicasia, whose eyes took on a predatory glow.

"It is you, I knew I recognised you from somewhere!" Nicasia leaned her chin in her hands. "Sing us something, darling."

"You want music? The jukebox is over there," Jude told her. "Now what do you want to eat?"

"Oh come on," Valerian said, crossing his ankles on the corner of the table. "Let's have a little live entertainment while we eat!"

"Yes," Nicasia purred. "You know, if we like it we might even put a good word in for you at Juilliard."

"I'm sure she's wonderful," Locke said. He looked at her. "Jude, don't listen to them, you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Cardan said nothing. Just sat with his head on the table, probably nursing a hangover.

"Maybe you could sing us the specials," Valerian suggested. Then he frowned. "Although, if you're terrible, that might put us all off our appetites."

"You can all order now," Jude said, smiling widely, "or you can all have sloppy joes. I don't care one way or the other."

"Touchy," Nicasia frowned. But then she ordered, and the boys followed suit. Valerian broke out in another rendition of 'Hey Jude' as she walked away, until she heard Cardan tell him to kindly shut up. Jude could not comment on his acting ability, but Valerian was a god-awful singer.

/////

Cardan sat with his head on the table and his hangover shoved up his nose.

This week he had actually gotten some sleep. Just not in his bed- he had fallen asleep on the floor most nights, listening to the woman's voice in the downstairs apartment. He had even tinkered the song she sang on the piano once or twice, but then felt so desperately pathetic that he went out with Locke and Valerian last night and they all got black out drunk and woke up in Nicasia's room. Cardan had no memory of going there, but they had all trudged out for a late breakfast this morning and he had no idea how the rest of them were so chipper.

He didn't know what they were talking about but at some stage Valerian started singing- if you could call it that- and Cardan raised his head long enough to order. "Coffee. Just... coffee."

The waitress nodded, and for a second she looked hauntingly familiar. But then she turned on her heel and was gone, and Cardan's forehead found the cool metal surface of the table once more.

Cardan had not heard back from his parents, but now that he knew they were going to be in the audience for his next performance, he suddenly had no idea what to play. He had originally planned to compose something for the occasion, but inspiration had dried up, and he had barely played anything all week. Had very little motivation at all, and might even have just crawled into bed and stayed there had his friends not insisted on dragging him around with them.

The next day they decided to look for the waitress around the different subway stations.

Lord knew why; Cardan hadn't been paying attention because he didn't care much what they had to say at the best of times let alone when the outside air itself seemed to rub harshly against his skin. It was times like these that he had to rather wrack his brain for why these people were his friends in the first place. He supposed they had always been his friends, they were the children of his parents' friends and somehow this made them his own friends by default. Or something like that.

At any rate, he was towed along the subway line, from station to station and in general spending much more time underground in the space of an hour than he had otherwise done all year. Cardan had no idea why they were so determined to find the waitress- she was attractive enough, but Nicasia and Valerian in particular had previously been very vocal about their criteria for who they hung out with. People who worked in diners tended not to make the cut.

Finally, when he could smell more of the Harlem River than he wanted to, Nicasia stopped them.

"There she is," she breathed. And at first, Cardan was just happy to stop walking. But then he heard her.

She was singing 'Ain't No Sunshine,' but Cardan knew her voice from a different song. A wordless lullaby that floated up through the air vents and sang to him at night. A cure for the insomnia that had plagued him for twenty years and then some. He'd know it if she were singing Old MacDonald.

Jude. That was her name, he realised with a jolt. And more surprisingly, she was gorgeous. How had he not realised before? Cardan watched her sing, with her eyes closed and her hands moving, and she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

The other three giggled on the sidewalk, and as the song came to an end, they tripped forward to talk to her. Jude looked around with a smile that could break a man's heart, as the crowd around her applauded. And then she looked up and saw his friends, and her smile vanished. Saw him, and he had no idea what to do once her doe brown eyes were on him. He just turned, and walked quickly away.

Okay okay I think we have direction! Let me know what you think!

****

JURDAN MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @asteria-of-mars @swankii-art-teacher @loosingdreams @feysand-loml @cityofbookish @story-scribbler

[jupiterswlrd]

ADONAI

ꜱɪɴ ᴄᴀɴ ��ᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅɪꜱᴛʀᴀᴄᴛꜱ ᴜꜱ ᴏɴ ᴏᴜʀ ᴊᴏᴜʀɴᴇʏ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɢᴏᴅ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀɴ ɪɴᴠɪᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏʀ ᴀ ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀʟᴋ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀᴛʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀᴅꜱ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅ ɢᴏᴅ; ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴀɴ ɪɴᴄɪᴛᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏʀ ᴀɴ "ɪɴᴠɪᴛᴀᴛɪᴏ"

I∀NOᗡ∀

his mocha brown skin melting into mine, the scent of expensive cologne intoxicating me taking every bit of free will i had left and giving it all to him. i was apart of him, souls bonded by sin and discord only together for the sheer reason of rebellion. jesus christ temptation was a bitch.

////////

i woke up, darkness filling up my vision and my glasses nowhere in sight. i flipped on the light disappointment filling my body when i realized there would be no light coming on. "forgot to pay the bill AGAIN" i mumbled in exhaustion. my dad had to be the most physically present deadbeat in existence.

i was tired of getting dressed in the dark, praying that a little sunlight peeked through the windows of my room so i could at least see the color of the pants i was gonna wear. it was my first day of school and i refused to be embarrassed. it's not like we were broke my father just couldn't be bothered. my phone rang, the irritating default iPhone alarm letting me know it was time to wake up. '10 minutes late as per usual' i kissed my teeth and threw on my robe.

i went to the bathroom, confused about how i was supposed to do my makeup. "he just had to do this today huh?" i sighed slamming my hands on the counter. the lights "magically" turning on. "how convenient" i shoved the toothbrush in my mouth already overthinking about how the day was finna go. as i was getting ready for the day i turned on my favorite radio show, it was a little ghetto but they always were so open-minded and funny. you can't beat that.

"welcome back to the green! live from greenwood park, chicago illinois we coming to you live!!"

i did a silent "woop woop" in my head, i hated living in greenwood but if anybody else asked you would have thought the mayor of greenwood was my mother herself. you see, earlier this summer i made the wise decision to move from one shitty parent to another, packing up my "hood rat" ways and moving to the suburbs. which was filled to the brim with affluent black people who had been in jack and jill since birth and dined with people like the obamas just for funsies.

i was the black sheep of my neighborhood, which wasn't a surprise. i stick out like a sore thumb everywhere i go. even though these were "my people", i wasn't like them. sure i speak "proper" when i want to, but i think i'm just too on edge for them. my crazy piercings and crazy colored hair automatically make me stand out. i wasn't one of those "too white for the black kids, too black for the white kids" bitches though. i just accepted the fact that i ain't fit in and moved on, no need to make a whole college essay about it.

i threw on my lashes and left out the house, anticipating a long and awkward bus ride. many people seeing "friends" they somehow forgot about during the summer. 'superficial.' i thought to myself. crazy how some friendships are sheerly circumstantial. I got out my airpods and put them in; drowning out the birds who decided that if they were up everybody had to be up too. i took a deep breath in, it was a rainy morning and the smell was familiar. the air smelled so much clearer without the toxins of a nearby city. maybe i could get used to this.

4 hours later

"nay-aw-meh?" my prayer teacher called out to me making me roll my eyes. "it's said how it's spelled. naomi...it's literally in the bible" i mumbled that last part taking a seat in the back. going to a christen college prep school, had to be the worst idea my father had. 'it'll look soooo good on a college application.' his voice rang in my head making me mentally scoff. yes, it was the first day but school was never my thing anyway. normality, uniformity, and sticking to the basics was never something i was interested in.

a boy with pink-colored dreads walked in, he had glasses on and a uniform of course. he was finer than wine. the only red flag he had was carrying a trapper keeper. "they let you keep that eyebrow piercing in?" the boy spoke up making me jump a bit waking me up out of my thoughts. "um yeah? am i not supposed to have them?" i asked cursing myself for deciding to get 20 new piercings before school started. "oh i mean, they just prudes. i was surprised they white asses ain't giving you a hard time. you know?" i hummed in response, now overthinking every decision i've made up until now. "my name nehmiah" he held out his hand for me to shake. oddly traditional. most boys my age would have me dap them up. "naomi" i shook it smiling.

"you know after the first week, imma start skipping this class" he leaned back in his chair, pulling his hood up and sighing. "why?" i asked ignoring the teacher explaining the syllabus. "everything about this is bullshit, plus i'm like...an atheist." i nodded slowly.

"don't tell me you're one of those overly christian girls, don't tell me i gotta cut this friendship short"

FRIENDSHIP??

"oh no. im one of those third eye crystal 333 bitches" i joked watching him snicker, he had such a pretty smile. "we should skip together, there's a fye ass raising canes down the street" he gave me his phone to put my number in. i snapped a quick pic making sure i looked good as hell, putting my number in.

i gave him back his phone also handing him mine to put his in. "do i gotta call you mimi? i feel like everybody call you that" i rolled my eyes at him. "just call me nayo then" he gave me back my phone, i stared at the picture smiling a bit to my self.

"them carti ass emojis" i said hoping he'd get the joke. "me and bro just alike" he pointed to his hair and i just blinked.

"i mean it's not red—"

"you get the point."

the bell rang and i waved bye to nehmiah, sort of excited to text him as soon as i got home. he was cute and had a surface level personality. i had a kindergarten style crush on this boy, there was no denying it.

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’: Separation

Word count: 1.6K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Mentions of multiple deaths, feels, fluff

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: This timestamp takes place before the first chapter of the series. I wrote it for myself, because it’s a snapshot of their lives that demanded to be fleshed out. 

The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014.

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

29th August 2014

Sam simply had to look away. He couldn’t bear to see the pictures Stacey had put in front of him.

“Why’re we doing a homicide, again?” Chase asked, face screwed up. He didn’t want to see the horrifying images either.

Stacey pursed her lips. “Sam had told me he’d like to be informed if something similar to… you know... if something like this ever pops up.”

Sam had told her that. She was only doing what she’d been asked.

“So, what’s the deal?” Sam motioned with a tilt of his head towards the photos on his desk.

“Victor Parker, 37 and Alicia Parker, 32, were found murdered at their San Jose home yesterday. They are survived by a 5 year old boy John.”

“What happened?” Chase’s curiosity got the better of him.

“Burglary gone wrong, or so the cops are saying. The resemblance of the crime scene was all too uncanny. I had to tell you.”

Stacey wasn’t wrong. The way the bodies were splayed- just like Simmons.

“Where’s the boy?” Sam’s fingers scratched against the etching on his pen. A nervous tick he had developed over the years when he started feeling the panic.

“In the hospital, fighting for his life. The assholes shot everyone. Little John got it twice. The surgeons removed the bullets, but there’s been a lot of internal bleeding.”

Sam flinched, closing his eyes.

Chase got up from the chair. “What’re we going to do about this? We’re lawyers not law enforcement or miracle workers.” He turned to the girl before him. “Stace, darling, c’mon. There’s nothing we can do for the poor boy. We work private law jobs and this is the DA’s territory.”

Stacey pushed her hair behind her ear, distressed. “Sam, you okay?”

“Sam?”

“Hmm?” He looked up, fingers sweaty against the obsidian in his hand.

She looked like something had just occurred to her. “Wait… Wasn’t your dad’s name John? Oh, Sam, I’m so sorry if I brought something up.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m okay. It’s not that.”

It wasn’t. His parent’s death had been a grave tragedy, but it affected Dean a hell lot more than it had ever affected Sam. He had always been sheltered, protected and loved by a brother who was his entire family. 

Sam let out a long breath. “Call the PD and check with them which hospital they’ve put John in, will you?”

“On it!” 

He watched Stacey hurry out of his office.

Chase gave him an apprehensive glance then walked out of the cabin, too. He wasn’t wrong about what he’d said earlier. There was nothing Sam could do. Max’s case was a one off. Ralph Simmons had been a client to Johnson’s before, so Max was by default on the firm’s radar. These murders were only a news report. Even though Sam couldn’t be legal help, he could always be monetary help. It’s why he’d asked Stacey to keep a look out. If there was anything Sam could do for little John, he would.

The glass door opened, and his secretary stepped in.

“Stace?” 

Her lower lip quivered before she put her face in her hands. “Just heard from the Hospital. He passed, Sam. That little boy didn’t make it.” 

******

“Mr. Winchester, can I offer you something? A glass of water, perhaps?” The principal asked him, casting a side eye at the other teacher.

“No, thank you,” Sam whispered. “I just want to see my son.”

“I have to tell you, this is very irregular. We usually don’t pull out kids from their classes. Is something wrong?”

He closed his eyes and said the words with deliberation. “Nothing is wrong. I’d just like to take my son home early. Will that be a problem?”

The principal gestured to the teacher, who Sam now realised was Max’s class in-charge. She shrugged. “Sure. There’s just an hour of school left for the year. You can take him home.”

When Max shuffled into view outside, through the office’s blinders, he looked small and confused, brown eyes flitting nervously. It was all Sam could do not to fall on his knees and hug him to his chest. 

Max’s eyes went round with worry as he read Sam’s. Kid just always knew.

With shaking legs, Sam made his way out and clutched Max’s shoulder. He would have picked his boy up, but the fear of collapsing kept him from doing that. 

“Come,” he said quietly, placing a hand against Max’s back.

Max followed without a question, climbing in the passenger’s seat.

Sam drove the rest of the way doing his best not to break down. His eyes kept tearing up and he rolled them up each time to stop the threatening tears from spilling.

Once home, he discarded his coat and sat Max down on the sofa. The packed suitcase, along with Max’s backpack stood right next to it. 

“Stay here, let me fix you something to eat, okay?” 

Sam’s kitchen was open, he could see Max from where he was standing in front of the stove. The eggs broke unevenly and the whisk shook in his hands. Next time that Sam’s eyes flitted to the sofa, it was empty.

“Max? Max!” He yelled.

“Right here!” Max was sitting on the kitchen island right behind, feet tucked under him.

“I told you to stay right there on the sofa!”

Max dropped his shoulders. “You’re spooking me out, you know?”

Sam was taken aback.

“Look,” Max sighed. “If you don’t want me to go, I won’t go, okay? It’s not that big a deal.”

Closing his eyes, Sam leaned back against the counter next to Max. “It’s not that. I… Well, I had a rough day at work.”

“What happened?”

He wasn’t sure how to put it to Max, but he sure as hell couldn’t lie to him.

“You don’t want to tell me,” Max huffed. 

“Something very sad happened today,” Sam breathed. “And I just… I couldn’t take it-” his voice broke. “I couldn’t breathe another minute without seeing you, knowing you were okay.”

Max was silent for a moment, then he spoke through pressed lips. “You look funny. Bad funny. You wanna sit down?”

Sam gulped once and pulled himself on top of the counter next to Max. 

His house wasn’t big, but it sure felt cavernous when Max went over to Jody’s for the night sometimes. One whole month. How was he supposed to live?

“Your hands are shaking,” Max said in his sweet, ringing voice. “Sam, you’re scaring me.”

First rule of parenting, don’t let your kid see you fall apart, Dean’s words came back to Sam.

He ran his hand over his face- it must’ve been white- not knowing what to say to Max.

“I’m not going to the camp,” Max announced.

“No. You should go. Your aunt Jo would butcher me with one of her fancy knives if you don’t show up now. I’ll be fine.”

The boy next to him didn’t look convinced. Max saw right through him with those sharp eyes. “You’re bluffing. And I thought you were the best lawyer in the world.”

“All kids think their parents are infallible.”

Max snorted. Sam turned to look at him.

“You’re infallible, alright, but you’re also stupid!”

“What?”

Little brown fingers grabbed Sam’s hand, stealing eyes. “It’s just a camp.”

“But you want to go, right?”

Max didn’t say anything. Sam knew he’d been dying to go to that mechanics camp his uncle Dean had suggested. It would mean cars, tools and dinners with his aunt and uncle on the weekends. Dean and Jo were looking forward to this, too. They had their own kid on the way and Jo loved Max. Much like Sam, it was second nature to her to keep looking at the roads and door and be disappointed each time when the person she was hoping to see never showed. Sam couldn’t disappoint her.

“I’ve never been away from you for more than a day since you moved in with me. I wouldn’t know what to do with my days.” Or life for that matter.

Max smirked. “Uncle Chase keeps asking you to have fun. So have fun.”

Chase’s definition of fun was very different from Max’s. Sam wasn’t interested.

“You call me everyday, you hear me?” Sam said through a thick throat. “You miss a day and I’ll haul your ass back all the way from Kansas. I won’t care if the camp counsellor says no. I can throw hands.”

Max gave him a very slow once over then snickered. “No one’s dumb enough to fight you.”

Sam couldn’t stop himself. He threw his hands around the little boy, engulfing him completely. “I’m going to miss you so damn much, son.”

“Can’t. Breathe.” Came the muffled words. Sam eased the grip.

“I’ll miss you, too, Dadda.”

Thirty-one days. Sam could do it. Monday was the orientation lecture for the new class of Stanford Law. A fresh batch. Sam was supposed to teach Civil Procedure. That would keep him plenty busy. Submissions, hypos, presentations. He could take over extra cases at work, make more trips to LA to check on the boys home. The month would be in and out and before he knew it, his kid, the light of his days, would be back to bouncing on his couch and reading on the kitchen counter.

Max yawned against Sam’s stomach.

Yeah he could survive. After all, what could possibly happen in thirty-one days.

********

[litzing]

The Last Starmachine

When modern problems require ancient solutions.

Title: The Last Starmachine

Author: @litzing

Word Count: 1513

The ceiling, emblazoned with a fractal map of the universe that must have taken thousands of cycles to complete, hangs over me like a midnight sky as I cross the grand cavern to the very last Starmachine. With tears in my eyes and a smile on my lips, I gaze up at the culmination of my life’s work, a tall, mysterious cylinder covered in carved runes that looms over the cavern like a monument to the heavens. I reach out to touch the structure, but I hesitate right before my fingertips can brush the stone and withdraw my hand. There’s more to be done before I can enjoy my discovery.

“Is that it?” asks Masza in accented Common. He approaches the Starmachine, regarding it with awe. I’m fishing in my knapsack when I look up to see him about to touch the cylinder with one large, scaled hand.

“Don’t!” I blurt out, and Masza freezes with his palm mere inches from the Starmachine. “Don’t touch that. You could turn it on.”

He lowers his hand. “I thought it had a key?”

“It does. But one can never be too sure.”

I produce the key from my knapsack, wrapped in an expensive Ssarrhan fabric. Masza leans closer to see. It’s a sandy brown stone sphere about the size of my fist. Runes similar to those on the Starmachine are etched into the surface. A long, jagged rod extends from the top. Not much to look at; the antiques dealer I bought it from was using it as a paperweight.

“This is incredible! Oh, I am so excited. Imagine what we can do with the last Starmachine, Masza!” I can’t hide the way my eyes light up, nor how my speech quickens. “We can salvage civilizations! Light up skies! We can create new worlds capable of life! How amazing!”

Masza clears his throat. My smile fades when I raise my eyes to see him looking disgruntled.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Am I getting paid or what?”

“Oh! Yes, of course.” I dig deeper in my knapsack, then pass him a wad of bills. “As promised. Thank you for guiding me, Masza, I greatly appreciate your assistance.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He counts the bills. “Just hurry up. It’s hot in here, Ilamiria.”

“I apologize, but we could be here for a long time.” I’m already setting down my lantern and flipping through the tiny notebook I keep in my pocket at all times, stuffed full of important information I’ve gathered about the Starmachine. To the left is a control panel of sorts, a cluster of stone dials that correspond with cosmic coordinates, and I wander over as I’m talking to nobody in particular.

“These must be the tuning dials. I wonder if I can turn them? Surely the stone has deteriorated over time, perhaps even cracked in some places...”

All of the dials have keyholes on the left side. The key fits like a glove in the largest dial, and it turns with ease. Once I’m certain nothing terrible will happen, I start twisting the dials according to my notes.

“Ah, I see... So this is—And this small one here determines—Hmmm... Maybe this big dial... Yes!”

“Should I be listening to you?” Masza questions, ambling around the cavern, his thick tail swishing along after him. There isn’t much to look at beyond the map on the ceiling and the Starmachine.

“No, no...” I wave a hand vaguely in his direction. “Don’t mind me. But please don’t break anything.”

“Wasn’t planning on it...” he grumbles.

Referencing my notes, I arrange the dials in a very precise way. They must be correct, or I could cause catastrophic damage to the universe. If I don’t use specific coordinates...

“... I could destroy worlds,” I murmur.

“What?” Masza’s voice is close behind me. “Is that what we’re doing?”

“Ah, no, of course not. Just talking to myself,” I reply. I’m busy with the dials. So busy, in fact, that I don’t hear Masza pull out his blaster until the barrel is pressed against the back of my head. I pause, hands still on the dials just as I’ve set the right coordinates.

“Masza?”

“Y’know, Ilamiria,” he begins, and I hear him flick his blaster from stun to kill. “I think we should destroy some worlds.”

“I’m sorry?” I turn, and I find myself face to face with the business end of Masza’s blaster. “Oh! Masza, why—?”

“I have a buyer from Talroch that’s very interested in the last Starmachine. They say it’s some kind of weapon?”

“A weapon!? Of course not! Masza, Starmachines are the closest thing to gods this universe has! They create life! And we found one! This is the archaeological discovery of the millennium. You can’t possibly sell it to some warlord!”

“Money talks. I listen.” He extends his hand. “I’m gonna need you to hand over that key.”

“I’ll pay you more. My parents are wealthy aristocrats on Tikka. I can afford it. I’ll double your money!”

“It’s a lot of money, kid.” Masza beckons with one clawed finger. “The key.”

“But you don’t know how to use it!” I exclaim, desperate. “Masza, you could kill us all. You could take billions of lives. Trillions!”

“Guess I’ll need your notes, too. Hand ‘em over. I won’t ask again.”

I can see in his dark green eyes he’s not messing around. Maybe hiring a guide from a bar on Ssarrha was a bad move. I glance up at the Starmachine, my beloved, and chew my lip in thought. Is my sense of self-preservation strong enough to outweigh my morals? Turning over my research to this thug will put trillions of lives in jeopardy. Could I do that to save my own skin?

No. I found the last Starmachine. I won’t let anyone take that away from me. And I sure as hell won’t let anyone use it as a weapon.

I duck under Masza’s blaster and ram my shoulder into his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him. He stumbles and falls with a surprised yelp, his blaster slipping from his fingers and clattering off to the side. I dive for the blaster, but Masza catches me by the ankle and hauls me towards him. I try in vain to claw my way forward, my nails scrabbling against the stone until they split and bleed. Masza’s grip on my ankle is bruising, and he’s so much stronger than me. Gasping for breath, Masza drags me closer and flips me over so he can straddle my waist and hold me down. After a swift punch to the face that must have broken my nose, his rough hands find my throat, and he squeezes.

“Fucking brat!” he spits, glaring at me with narrowed eyes and slitted pupils, sharp teeth bared like an animal. “You think you’re so fucking smart, don’t you? If you really were some kinda kid genius, you’d have handed over your shit and died easy. Now you’re gonna die—“ His grip tightens on my throat. “—slow.”

I kick my feet and try to pry his hands away, but it’s futile. Thinking fast, I grab the knife sheathed on Masza’s belt and drive it into his gut as deep as I can, piercing his soft underbelly. Pale blue Ssarrhan blood bursts from the wound when I rip the knife out, and Masza shrieks in pain, releasing my neck to try to stop the bleeding with both hands. I scramble out from under him and snatch the key from where I’d left it on the panel, and without a second thought, I force the key into the ignition and twist it to the right.

The cavern rumbles. I watch in awe as a brilliant golden glow creeps through the runes carved into the Starmachine, lighting up every crevice from bottom to top. A large panel in the ceiling above the Starmachine slides open, exposing the night sky. As the glow reaches the top of the cylinder, I feel electricity in the air, a crackling static that raises my hackles and stings my eyes.

After a deafening silence, the Starmachine roars to life. It sounds like the wind howling in a hurricane. I feel myself being pulled towards the cylinder, and I grab the control panel to keep steady. Masza is not so lucky. The Starmachine reels him in from where he’s groaning in pain on the ground, and the moment he touches the white-hot cylinder, he’s lit up in flames. His agonized screams will haunt me for the rest of my life, but soon, he is nothing more than a pile of ash.

With an explosion that leaves my ears ringing, the Starmachine ejects some sort of projectile into the sky. It’s gone in a blink, breaking out of the atmosphere. Then the glow fades, the dials spin back to their default position, and all is quiet, save for the panel on the roof sliding shut.

But before it can close, I see a prick of light in the sky that was not always there.

[chaelisaff]

this is NOT a corny american teenage story

prompt by ket @wanpup on twitter: wenlisa bffs crackheads/bandgeeks falling for the popular jocks

~

Out of all the clubs and organizations at the high school, the glee club was the last club she wanted to join.

Like, she swore she’d never be caught singing acapella and twirling like a damn idiot, but here she was.

Unfortunately.

Well, it did take a series of unfortunate events for her to get here.

One, her dad suddenly resigned from his post as head chef of a 5 star restaurant in Thailand to open his own restaurant an ocean away - in California. Apparently, her dad also had a big fight with the big bossman of the restaurant and he just couldn’t stomach working there anymore. The move wasn’t completely of his own volition and void of consideration for her feelings, so she tries not to be too bitter about that one.

Two, all of this happened after the school year had already started on her sophomore year. So, she has to start school in a whole new continent, where she has to speak a whole new language when all the kids already had cliques and knew each other.

This one was hard to not be bitter about because of course - of course - the universe would fuck with her like this.

But the third circumstance was the one that she absolutely hated the most.

Said third circumstance was standing in front of the whole glee club right now with the brightest smile, holding sheet music, and making a pep talk about how the glee club is home for the misfits, refuge for those who don’t fit in.

And her name is Wendy Shon.

A five foot tall Korean-Canadian spazz whose eyes shine a little too bright and who is never without a kind smile.

Okay, Lisa is being a little unfair.

Wendy Shon, afterall, was her only real friend in school right now.

See, it started on her first day - it was the thirteenth, on a Friday. The signs were enough to convince her to defer starting school to the next monday, but no, she had to go “it’s okay, I can start right away,” to her parents and the principal.

Wendy Shon greeted her on the first day of class, introduced herself as the senior rep and glee club president and proceeded to show her around.

Apparently, Wendy Shon had also been new to the school only a year ago, too, and wanted to help ease her into adjusting. Lisa thought of two things then: how amazing it is that a new kid already managed to be involved in so many extra-curricular activities and how truly kind it was of her to volunteer to be Lisa’s first friend.

But then that Friday the thirteenth started rearing its own ugly head and before even the lunch bell rang, a bunch of volleyball jocks had “accidentally” dunked a slushie (apparently that’s what they called those colorful convenience store drinks made of crushed ice) over her head.

Wendy was horrified that she’d experienced that on her first day so the glee club president became Mother Theresa incarnate and took care of her.

Lisa went home that day in Wendy’s nice-smelling gym clothes.

But before that, Lisa had asked Wendy if there was any dance club she could join, and Wendy shook her head with a cute pout, bottom lip jutting out. But then a light bulb seemed to go off in Wendy’s head and she told Lisa, “we do have a glee club, though, and we dance there, too!”

And as much as Lisa didn’t really want to sing and dance like some High School Musical extra, she couldn’t say no to Wendy’s puppy dog eyes, especially in view of the fact that the girl had been more than accommodating and caring towards her.

Three months later, she’s sitting in one of the chairs in the band practice room, listening to the glee club president - her default best friend because she can’t speak english fluently just yet and no one else really talks to her - Wendy Shon belt out Air Supply’s “I Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing”.

Cheesiest song, ever, Lisa thinks.

~

She and Wendy walk home together after practice that day - like they do every day.

Because as luck would have it, they live a block away from each other.

(Yes, when Wendy found out about this, she appeared on Lisa’s doorstep with “Welcome Neighbour!” cupcakes. Of course, Mother Wenresa also bakes. Of course.)

Don’t get her wrong, though, Lisa is grateful to have Wendy.

It’s just that she wished she wasn’t just left with Wendy because she had no one else to hang out with.

And one day as if the universe answered her wish in a twisted way, she bumped into someone as she ran in the hallway, rounding a corner, trying to beat the bell before class, and spilled all the contents of her chocolate milk.

The frothy, sticky, brown beverage splattered everywhere, leaving nothing in her immediate vicinity unmarked - the hallway, the lockers, and the biggest casualties being the uniform of the person she bumped into and her friend.

Uniform, registered in Lisa’s mind immediately after.

When she looked up from under the fringe of her bangs, she saw the shocked faces of two of the most popular volleyball jocks in school; Korean-American senior and volleyball team captain Kang Seulgi and her best friend, Korean-Australian sophomore, Roseanne Park.

Fuck. Lisa swore in her mind after she realized it’s the same girls who dunked the slushie on her head on the first day.

Kang Seulgi had looked so shocked, but it was Roseanne Park who was quick to recover.

“Ugh!” Roseanne groaned then directed angry eyes at Lisa. “What the hell?! Watch where you’re going!”

Lisa held her hands up.

“I’m sorry!”

Roseanne huffed and took an angry step forward.

“You better be!”

Then Lisa was sure she’d just accidentally signed her death warrant.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Seulgi held the sophomore back. “It’s okay, Rosie.”

Rosie grumbled but eventually she and Seulgi walked away, with her trying to squeeze out the sticky stuff from her blonde hair.

Seulgi spared Lisa a glance but said nothing.

Apparently Wendy had witnessed everything and happened to be in the hallway, too. The kind glee club president rushed to her and - for the second time - offered to lend Lisa her nice smelling gym clothes.

Only then did Lisa realize some of the chocolate splattered onto her, too.

~

Weeks after the incident, Lisa became hyper-aware of the presence of Roseanne park and Kang Seulgi. She discovered that she shared nearly all of her classes with the sophomore volleyball player, except for English Literature since she had to take an English-as-Second-Language course first as prerequisite since she’s a foreigner.

(She had outstanding grades in math and biology and the principal had allowed her to be in the advanced classes, too. Apparently, Roseanne Park wasn’t any other dumb jock because she was on the sophomore honor roll, too.)

Lisa was convinced that Roseanne Park threw her the stink eye during class and sometimes turned around to throw glares at her.

Wendy argued that she was just being paranoid.

“Seulgi and Rosie aren’t the mean jocks that you think they are, Lis.” Wendy scoffed one afternoon as they were walking home. “This is real life, you know, not some american teenage tv show with an awful plot.”

“I’m telling you, Wendy!” Lisa argued back. “They really hate me! Especially that Park girl.” She shuddered. “I told you they were also the ones who dumped the slushie on me on my first day of school.”

Wendy just shook her head.

“The slushie was a total accident, just like the choco milk was, Lis.”

Lisa just sighed.

“If I go missing one day like what happened in Pretty Little Liars, it’s YOUR fault for not listening to me.”

Wendy just groaned.

“Whatever, crazy ass.”

~

And of course - as luck would have it, and as all those cheesy american teenage shows have shown - Lisa ends up being partnered with Roseanne Park in biology.

They were supposed to dissect a frog.

“Okay, now go team up with your respective partners!” Their biology teacher clapped once, and all their classmates dispersed and grouped themselves.

Roseanne Park approached her. Lisa gulped and thought about how she’s going to get murdered and die while she’s in a dumb Amercan high school at the hands of a pretty blonde while she’s in GLEE CLUB.

Roseanne put on the lab coat and the surgical gloves and sat beside her.

Lisa dared a sideways look.

And damn, even with just her side profile in view, it was easy to tell that the blonde girl was indeed pretty.

Suddenly the “well, mark me down as scared AND horny” meme came to her mind.

Lisa shook her head.

Her brain really didn’t need to be thinking about that!

Beside her Roseanne pulled out her textbook and cleared her throat.

“Shall we start?”

Lisa nodded. The two girls both got to working.

~

Lisa learned after that fateful day that perhaps Roseanne Park wasn’t all that scary.

Apparently, the blonde volleyball player was really afraid of frogs. She put on a brave face, of course, but when the frog almost leapt out of Lisa’s grip, she went screaming and flailing to the other side of the room.

The whole class erupted in laughter, even the teacher.

Rosie had looked embarrassed and she came back to their table with her head bowed and ears tinged pink.

Lisa felt bad for her so she just smiled at the jock and offered to do most of the work.

Roseanne had declined, but Lisa insisted, and with a smile, comforted her. The transferee gripped the frog tightly and showed it to her partner.

“See? Harmless.” Lisa said.

Rosie just gave her a look then and said nothing.

They finished the rest of the activity without much of an event.

~

In the cafeteria, the next day, Wendy was really into whatever story she was telling Lisa when her eyes suddenly widened and she snapped her mouth shut.

When Lisa looked at her confused and asked, “what?” somebody behind her cleared their throat.

She turned to see Roseanne Park and Kang Seulgi standing behind her - Kang Seulgi with the brightest, goofiest smile and Roseanne Park looking down at her feet shyly, both in their volleyball uniforms and carrying lunch trays with food.

“Y-yes?” Lisa asked with apprehension as two things ran through her mind: what the fuck are they doing here and how the fuck did queen of bitch face Kang Seulgi somehow look like a teddy bear when she smiles?

Seulgi elbowed Roseanne. Roseanne glared at her friend then cleared her throat.

“Mind if we eat lunch with you guys?” Roseanne Park asked a beat later.

Lisa was too stunned, so Wendy took it upon herself to answer.

“Sure!”

Seulgi, still smiling, took the seat beside Wendy. Roseanne sat beside Lisa.

Lisa heard nothing but her heartbeat drumming in her ears. The scary pretty jock was sitting beside her.

And then said scary, pretty jock put a lunch box in front of her.

“I made this as thanks for your help yesterday.” Roseanne explained without looking at her.

Lisa was too shocked to move. Wendy stared at the scene in front of her with comically wide eyes and jaw hanging loose. Seulgi unwrapped a sandwich beside the glee club president and bit into it without a care in the world.

When Roseanne realized Lisa wouldn’t open the lunch box, the blonde jock took it upon herself to lay out the food in front of her.

It was a beautiful Korean-style spread in a pink little bento-style plastic container. Inside it was a small serving of japchae noodles, six pieces of gimbap, three pieces of pan-fried dumplings, and cabbage kimchi and korean radish giving it the pretty and bright splash of color and flavor.

It looked mouth-wateringly perfect.

“I-” Lisa was too surprised to form words. “Wow,” was all she could manage.

Roseanne reached over and grabbed the sandwich and soda she’d gotten from the cafeteria.

“I’ll eat your lunch in exchange.” Roseanne simply informed her.

Seulgi just beamed and chuckled. Then the volleyball captain turned to the glee club president beside her.

“Wendy, right?”

It was Wendy’s turn to blush and stammer.

“Y-yeah.”

Seulgi nodded then held out a hand for the other senior to shake.

“I’m Seulgi! I guess we never really met since you’re in all of the advanced classes because you’re way too smart.”

Wendy blushed a deep shade of red and shook Seulgi’s hand.

“I- you’re too kind. And of course, I know you. You’re Kang Seulgi, the ace volleyball player and captain.”

The words rushed out of Wendy’s mouth and Seulgi scrunched her nose and laughed.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, then, Wendy.”

It didn’t seem physically possible but Wendy blushed even more.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, too.”

~

Wendy and Seulgi hit it off after that day.

In between classes and as she walked the hallway, Lisa sometimes saw Seulgi talking to Wendy at her locker.

Seulgi was relaxed and leaned against the locker beside Wendy’s. Wendy would be hugging her bag or her books to herself.

Then the scene became a daily thing and Wendy’s stance relaxed bit by bit.

And since Wendy and Seulgi were suddenly becoming closer, Roseanne Park became a regular fixture in Lisa’s life, too.

Neither of them really offered to walk with the other, but since they happened to share most of their classes, Lisa and Roseanne ended up walking to and from their classes together.

Sometimes the duo would pass by Wendy and Seulgi.

Each pair would smile at the other and wave, Wendy yelling after Lisa and telling her that they would walk home together., as if she needed a reminder of their routine.

Lisa thought Wendy did that just because she gets shy being seen with Seulgi.

~

They’d gotten paired up again for another biology activity.

Roseanne put her books away and Lisa approached her.

“Hey, so when do you want to work on the project?” Lisa asked. She was more comfortable around the blonde jock now.

As comfortable as one could be when around the really pretty girl they had a crush on.

“Um, whenever you’re free?” Roseanne absentmindedly answered.

“How about this Saturday?”

“Sure. Your house?”

Lisa fought a blush.

“Sure.”

Roseanne nodded.

“Okay.”

Lisa pursed her lips.

“I’ll text you the address?”

And that was how Lisa had unknowingly, accidentally casually asked for Roseanne’s number.

The blonde jock smirked at her like she knew something Lisa didn’t and that was when Lisa realized what she’d actually done.

“Okay, give me your phone.” Roseanne said.

Lisa obliged.

When the blonde returned her phone, Lisa saw that the name she’d saved for herself was ‘Rosie❤’.

Lisa couldn’t fight off the grin that erupted on her face then.

~

Friday, Lisa and Wendy hung back at the glee club room talking about what song the glee club should perform next, when Seulgi and Rosie suddenly walked in.

“Hey!” Seulgi announced, coming up to Wendy immediately and standing close. The volleyball captain looked like she was going in for a hug but stopped herself at the last second.

Wendy licked her lips and shyly looked down.

“Hi,” the glee club captain greeted back. “What brings you two jocks to the loser side of the school?” she asked.

Seulgi blew out air and waved her statement off as if it was the silliest thing.

“Oh, please, Wan, if I wasn’t on a sports scholarship, I would be here, too.”

Lisa looked confused for a moment and Wendy noticed.

“Wan?” Lisa asked. Seulgi looked at Wendy confused.

Wendy blushed.

“Oh, that’s my Korean name, Lisa.” She explained. “My Korean name is Seungwan.”

Lisa’s mouth formed an ‘o’ and her eyes widened, coming down with the realization that the three people in the room with her all had Korean blood.

“I didn’t know that.” Lisa said.

“Yeah, sorry I forgot to tell you.” Wendy looked sheepish. “I didn’t think you’d ever need to call me by it.”

Lisa waved it off.

“That’s fine. And you’re right.”

That was when Lisa started to suspect Seulgi and Wendy had something more than friendship blossoming between them.

~

Saturday, after Rosie left Lisa’s house, the transferee’s phone rang showing Wendy’s caller ID.

“Can I come over?” Wendy sounded anxious.

Lisa got worried.

“Why, what’s wrong?”

“I have to talk to you about something.”

Five minutes later, Wendy was at Lisa’s door.

Ten minutes and a lot of Wendy pacing back and forth in her room after that, her friend turned to her.

“I think I have a crush on Seulgi.” The girl confessed.

Lisa couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Girl, that’s been so obvious, why are you telling me this like it’s news?!”

Wendy punched Lisa’s shoulder.

“Shut up, Lisa! Can you take me coming out seriously?”

Lisa just laughed louder. Wendy pouted.

The Thai girl threw her arms around her best friend.

“You silly, talented, brilliant, kind, dumbass.” Lisa said with affection. “I’m proud of you.”

Wendy buried her face in Lisa’s shoulder and shed a few happy tears.

A few beats later, Lisa added, “I’m pretty sure Seulgi likes you back.”

Wendy disentangled herself from Lisa and punched her again.

~

Wednesday, as they walked home together, Lisa turned to Wendy suddenly.

“I have a crush on Rosie.” She admitted to Wendy.

Wendy just rolled her eyes.

“Duh, as if that wasn’t the most obvious thing.”

“HEY!” Lisa stopped walking. “I was really supportive when you came out to me and now you do this to me?!”

Wendy just cackled and ran away before Lisa could grab her or punch her.

~

Rosie and Lisa were walking together after biology. They spotted Seulgi and Wendy from afar.

And then suddenly they both stopped in their tracks and their jaws dropped.

Because Seulgi suddenly leaned down to capture Wendy’s lips in a kiss and Wendy kissed her back.

~

“So, you guys are dating now, huh?” Lisa wiggled her eyebrows at the couple sitti across her.

The four of them were in the cafeteria, at what has become their usual table.

Seulgi just grins and Wendy blushes.

Lisa knew that they were holding hands under the table.

“Yep!” Seulgi piped up happily.

“It’s about time.” Lisa snorted. “I was sick of you both making heart eyes at each other in the hallways and being too much of cowards to act on your feelings.”

Wendy sent her a glare. Seulgi threw the wrapping of her sandwich at Lisa.

“Says the idiot who can’t admit her feelings.” Wendy shot back at her.

It was Lisa’s turn to glare.

“I’m just looking for the right timing, okay?”

And suddenly, Rosie spoke up, eyebrow raised and smirking.

“Oh really? When does the timing become right, Lisa?”

Lisa gulped.

“Well, uh,” Lisa stammered. “Well, I guess you just know when it is!”

“Oh yea?” Rosie challenged. “Well, I’m telling you there isn’t a right timing and you should just go for it.”

And then Rosie got up and stormed out of the cafeteria.

Seulgi and Wendy looked on with wide eyes, surprise and confusion mixed with interest shining in them.

Lisa was stunned for a few seconds before she got up and ran after Rosie.

“Rosie, wait!” Lisa called after the blonde. “Slow down and let me catch up!”

Rosie groaned.

“I’m tired of waiting for you to catch up, Lisa!”

Lisa sped up, pumped her legs and feet against the hallways of the school.

“Wait!” Lisa screamed again, gasping for breath.

Rosie didn’t stop. Lisa propped herself up with her hands on her knees and tried to catch her breath.

So with the last gust of air left in Lisa’s lungs she screamed loud enough for the whole school to hear.

“ROSEANNE PARK, STOP WALKING AWAY SO I CAN TELL YOU I LIKE YOU, DAMMIT!”

And that’s when Rosie stopped walking and turned around.

“It’s about time you said that!” Rosie shot back.

The blonde jock ran towards Lisa and nearly tackled her down.

And with a smile she whispered her confession low enough so that only Lisa could hear.

“I like you too.”

[batslime]

Does speaking up when your racist family members talk actually help in any way? Bcs some of them, if not most, have already made up their minds and will never change no matter what (except my mom, possibly dad) i say. There's no other young cousins or siblings either to show/tell them that what the old one's are saying is wrong. I tried a couple times some year(s) ago but it just showed me that they'll never change, and they're getting worse about it every day.

I don’t usually like talking abt this bc my parents are honest to god awful people and I fully intend to disown them for their abuse and bigotry as soon as I’m in a position where I’m able to, but this is not only kind of a “not my problem” kind of excuse to turn a blind eye on things like racism but also other more marginalized people don’t care or want to see more priveleged people come on here and talk about how racist their families are. It’s exahausting bc they already face first-hand racism day-to-day and they don’t need to read about what a racist family their friends come from and how their friend inherently grew up with racist views and that hearing these things effects them so little it’s just a ranty tumblr post in the same tone as “ugh I dropped my coffee today 😒”. Exposing your friends to racism, esp from your own kin just for the sake of complaining about how unwoke your parents are is still exposing them to racism.

That said. I’ll be honest I absolutely share the “they won’t change” mentality but I still do it anyway. They are such awful people that they literally laugh about it and say “I’m misinformed” and “believe anything” but even if it puts me in danger of being kicked out I do whatever I can to make them feel stupid or bigoted for the things they say or trying to turn it on them ( “that’s not a very Christian thing to say” if they’re Christian, “Thank God Grandpa’s not here to hear you say that” bc my grandfather just died and he very much did NOT share his sons’ beliefs. ). It doesn’t matter if these seem harsh, if they don’t want to be called out for their behavior, they shouldn’t behave like that.

The problem with this is these kinds of people don’t have any sense of shame or nuance and they will say whatever comes to their minds when they’re in private and think it can’t hurt them, and will swat away any facts you have with things like “that’s not true”, “that doesn’t make it ok”, etc. They refuse to be wrong. They “know” what they want, from the sources they want. Their minds are made up. Protests and the like are ridiculous and meaningless things to them like tree hugging. People who aren’t the “default” ( white, cishet, etc ) just aren’t people to them, they’re characters and punchlines, the rights and safety of them don’t matter. Bigots are not ignorant. They benefit from anti-blackness and they know it; both white and brown people of low and high classes. Appealing to their humanity doesn’t work. You MUST treat them like the bigoted adults they are. They know what they say and do is wrong and you just “explaining” that it’s racist doesn’t mean shit to them. You MUST make them feel alienated and make them question themselves.

That’s why it’s important to challenge them in any way you can. Do not let them feel safe and smug in that. Make them feel stupid and small and wrong even if that’s all that you think can come out of it. Do not let them feel right and that that’s the way the world works or that that is the general way others feel. Let them know that even in their own home where they think they can be racist there is somebody there who will check them. Just saying “it won’t be my problem one day” is letting them continue their thinking unchallenged and if younger more impressionable family is around and hears no rebuttal they WILL pick up on that thinking.

That is how racism festers and survives in our society. Racism is not a problem from our grandparents’ age or our parents’ or anyone else’s; it’s not a white people thing or an Asian people thing or a Latin American people thing, it’s EVERY non-black person’s issue. It’s here NOW and everywhere and when you let it slide unopposed it WILL thrive and continue. You may not think it’s that deep but that’s because you had the privelege of growing up without facing it or even having to question it in every aspect of your life. Black people do not have that luxury. The least we can do is risk discomfort and embarassment for the sake of your black loved ones and everyone else in the black community.

[crossingfates]

MEET THE MUSE!

Rules: Don’t reblog, repost. Tagging: @yall feel free to steal this its a very cool thing to do! Also i have no idea who hasn’t and has done it so Tagged by: @omniversentertwined ive been grabbed and thus here I am

( reply as muse talking )

► NAME ➭  “The name is Seeker! Though you’ve probably heard about me as the Grim Reaper. I still prefer Seeker” ► ARE YOU SINGLE? ➭   “ Nope! Happily married to the most beautiful of goddesses light of my life, Libra !” ► ARE YOU HAPPY? ➭   “ HECK YEAH I AM!!” ► ARE YOU ANGRY?  ➭    “ I haven’t tried playing any hard game yet so I am as zen as I can be” ► ARE YOUR PARENTS STILL MARRIED? ➭  “ I’m sure they are, somewhere...”

⚡️ NINE FACTS! ► ‘BIRTH’ PLACE ➭  “Uhhh...oh shit you really can forget about stuff you don’t think about huh? I can at least guarantee y’all it was Earth.” ► HAIR COLOR ➭ “ Brown” ► EYE COLOR ➭   “ Fuchsia! Hard to notice cause of my glasses sometimes I’ll admit ” ► BIRTHDAY ➭    “ February 28th, I can never forget it because it is the perfect excuse to ask Libra for Birthday hang out. Also free kisses hell ye ” ► MOOD ➭    “ Chill, is  that a mood? I’ll consider it a mood ” ► GENDER ➭  “In my best sponge bob impression...I...am a man” ► SUMMER OR WINTER ➭   “Winter, I prefer the cold plus there’s something almost nostalgic about it” ► MORNING OR AFTERNOON ➭  “Afternoon, watching the sunset is very soothing. Also I...am awful at waking up early”

⚡️ EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE! ► ARE YOU IN LOVE?➭   “ And I fall deeper in love every day I’m with her” ► DO YOU BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT? ➭   “You can definitely feel attraction to someone at first sight no doubt about it, but love is something that develops over time you know? Most people say it happens first in a huge burst and then diminishes over time but I think it’s the opposite. You start liking someone, maybe just a part of them like their kindness or even the way they look at you. But as time goes on you find more and more stuff you love about them as you know them better. Love is a seed that can blossom into a beautiful flower if both parties care and tend to it or it can very much leave a sour after taste. Tldr, if you fell in love with someone at first sight then I have news for you because you got a big love storm coming.” ► WHO ENDED YOUR LAST RELATIONSHIP? ➭  “No one. Would you believe me if I told you Libra has been my only relationship? ” ► HAVE YOU EVER BROKEN SOMEONE’S HEART? ➭   “I...don’t think I have? Or at least I hope not. ” ► ARE YOU AFRAID OF COMMITMENTS? ➭  “Nope!” ► HAVE YOU HUGGED SOMEONE WITHIN THE LAST WEEK?➭   “ Fun fact, hugging Libra can cure cancer, depression and bring world piece, believe me I am a hug scientist and I hug her whenever I can 10/10 Highly recommended. If you see a sad Libra offer her a hug as well. ” ► HAVE YOU EVER HAD A SECRET ADMIRER? ➭  “ Man if I do they really got the secret part going strong, tips of my hat to them. ” ► HAVE YOU EVER BROKEN YOUR OWN HEART? ➭ “ ..I have, many times...and different me hearts. ”

⚡️SIX CHOICES! ► LOVE OR LUST ➭  “ Love ” ► LEMONADE OR ICED TEA ➭  “ When life gives you lemons...you make lemon iced tea ha! checkmate ” ► A FEW BEST FRIENDS OR MANY REGULAR FRIENDS ➭  “ Both are great in their own ways, and probably also depends how easy is for one to make friends. The friends I have I feel are all the best friends I’ve ever have and no doubt I can count them with my fingers, I would do anything for them. But also having many friends you can just hang out with and spend quality time enjoying stuff is great too!” ► WILD NIGHT OUT OR ROMANTIC NIGHT IN ➭   “ Romantic night in! ” ► DAY OR NIGHT  ➭  “ Now, with my best batman impression, I am the night”

⚡️ FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS! ► BEEN CAUGHT SNEAKING OUT ➭  “ Never even tried, my house was very strict haha... ” ► FALLEN DOWN/UP THE STAIRS ➭  “ I wish I could fall up to ASCEND. But yes ” ► WANTED SOMETHING/SOMEONE SO BADLY IT HURT? ➭  “ haha I still do! ”

⚡️FIVE PREFERENCES! ► SMILE OR EYES ➭  “ I could stare at either of Libra’s forever, but I prefer the smile cause it means shes happy ” ► SHORTER OR TALLER ➭  “ Libra ” ► INTELLIGENCE OR ATTRACTION ➭   “ Libra, she’s both ” ► HOOK-UP OR RELATIONSHIP ➭  “ Relationship!”

⚡️ FAMILY! ► DO YOU AND YOUR FAMILY GET ALONG ➭  “ Ye ” ► WOULD YOU SAY YOU HAVE A “MESSED UP LIFE” ➭   “ It says a lot when I default to humor to cope with stuff haha...fuck ” ► HAVE YOU EVER RAN AWAY FROM HOME ➭    “ Not exactly, though I did leave to make sure a certain someone didn’t get lost on her way ” ► HAVE YOU EVER GOTTEN KICKED OUT ➭  “ Once, because of puns, during a friends night out ”

⚡️ FRIENDS! ► DO YOU SECRETLY HATE ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS ➭   “ They aren’t my friend anymore but I do feel the burning hatred of a thousand suns towards them ” ► DO YOU CONSIDER ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS GOOD FRIENDS ➭  “ All of my current friends heck yeah, the best there is!” ► WHO IS YOUR BEST FRIEND ➭  “ Well, they are my sibling more than anything and though we do get into fights because of our jobs, I love them dearly. Also Angel, but you know same strain cause they’re dating my sibling so. Its fun ” ► WHO KNOWS EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU ➭  “ I think not even I know everything about me, Libra and Samael are very close to knowing all about me though, though I guess Samael doesn’t count cause we were technically the same person for awhile. ”

[find-the-eyes]

I’ll Try Anything Once: Chapter 46

Written by: Sol, Beth, Allegra

Edited by: Sol, Allegra

Bob woke Paul up in a rush, shoving a suitcase at him. “We have to go in an hour! Start packing!” Bob ran frantically from room to room, gathering more essentials that he would need to bring with him. 

Paul sighed and sat up, pushing the suitcase aside. “Are you feeling alright, Bobbo?”

Bob stopped in his tracks in the doorway. “Why’s that?”

“I’ve never seen you this frantic before.”

“Well, you’ve never seen me pack for a trip then,” Bob laughed to himself as he continued to pack his bag.

“Is this about coming out?”

Bob froze once again. “Uh…yeah. It is.”

Paul smiled as he finally got up. “Aw, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not that easy,” Bob sighed. “It’s my parents. If they don’t accept me…”

“You’ll always have me if anything goes wrong.”

“But that’s… that’s different,” Bob sighed again. “I don’t want them to think any differently of me, or that I’m not a good son, or…”

Paul nodded, trying to understand Bob’s point of view. Paul had only ever known himself as a bad kid, one who wasn’t going anywhere in life. Being bisexual was nothing on top of being a failure by default.

“Bobbo, you’re the sweetest boy I know. No matter what, they’ll still love you,” Paul advised Bob, trying his best to be supportive. He had no idea what Bob felt like. He couldn’t even imagine it.

—

Once their bags were packed and they had wrangled Alvy into the car, Bob and Paul were ready to head out to Bob’s parents’ home in the countryside.

“Do you miss being back home, Bobbo?” Paul asked, admiring the green fields passing by along the motorway.

“Yeah, I miss how quiet it was.” Glasgow was nice, but Bob missed being able to wander around the fields across the street from his house with Alvy. 

They pulled up to Bob’s parents’ house a short while later. Alvy, who had nestled himself into the blanket on Bob’s backseat for the ride, scrambled into Paul’s lap and began barking. Paul stared at the house in wonder. It looked idyllic, like a painting on the front of a Christmas card. The house’s pale yellow siding and dark green trim stood in stark contrast to the bare trees and brown grass surrounding it. A large wreath with a red bow hung on the front door. The aura of the house was cozy and comforting. Bob had grown up here? Paul thought back to his own upbringing, in a disheveled flat in one of Glasgow’s rougher neighborhoods. It was so quiet here, so unlike the bustling city he grew up with, cars and trains whizzing by on the streets below and blinking lights flashing into his bedroom when he was trying to sleep. Paul looked over at Bob and sighed, a bit envious that he could even go back to his childhood home.

“You ready?” Bob asked, knocking Paul out of his reverie. Paul nodded and opened the door, letting Alvy hop out. “Don’t do anything that would indicate that we’re together in any way until I tell you, alright? For now, you’re just a friend.”

They trekked up to the front door with their suitcases, Bob clutching Alvy’s leash. Before the boys could reach the threshold, the door opened and a smiling face appeared. “Robert!” his mother said as she pulled him in for a bear hug and a kiss on the cheek, which he gratefully accepted. After a few moments, she pulled back and looked Paul up and down, her mouth pulling into a smile once again. “And you must be Paul!”

Paul nodded and awkwardly held out his hand. “Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Hardy.” 

As soon as Paul stepped into the house, he felt out of place, his dark hair and clothes contrasting the pastel colors and cozy furniture around him. Even Alvy matched the warm, comforting interior of the house.

“Is Dad home?” Bob asked. Alvy trotted back and forth in the front hallway, happy to be home.

“He should be in the kitchen. He figured you boys would be hungry after such a long drive. You should go say hi,” Bob’s mother said. Paul felt a pang of jealousy at Bob’s normal relationship with his parents.

“Alright,” Bob said, nearly grabbing Paul’s hand to lead him to the kitchen before thinking better of it. They headed down the hallway side by side.

The kitchen was just as cozy as the rest of the house. Paul sighed as he stepped in, almost considering running upstairs to change into the one yellow sweater he brought, just to fit in a bit better. Bob’s dad turned and nodded as they entered. “Hello, Robert. And this must be Paul.”

“Hey, Dad,” Bob said, cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. Paul raised his hand in a nervous wave.

As soon as he and Bob sat down at the kitchen table, Bob’s dad brought over two bowls of steaming hot soup for them.

“How’s school, you two?”

Paul glanced at Bob. “It’s good,” he lied, looking back down at his bowl of soup.

Bob looked a bit confused at first, but decided to go along with it. “Yeah! It’s been great, and I’m barely even homesick!” He laughed to himself, “not that I don’t miss being home, though.”

After a few moments, Bob’s mum came into the room. “Paul, I brought your suitcase up to Bob’s room. I’m sorry we don’t have another bedroom… are you okay with sharing a bed?”

Paul and Bob exchanged a nervous look. “Y-yeah, that’s fine,” Paul said, feeling his palms growing sweaty. “I mean, we already share a room, so, y’know, it’s alright.”

“I’m sorry to have to do this to you, Paul, it’s just that we don’t have anywhere else for you to sleep, really - the sofa’s not very comfortable, and we wouldn’t want to do that to a guest in our house!” Bob’s mother smiled and looked at her son. “You don’t mind, Bob, do you? I suppose I could go out and buy an air mattress…”

“No! No, that’s okay,” Bob interjected. He took a deep breath. “Paul’s right, we’ve been sharing a room for the last few months, it’s fine!”

Once they had finished their soup, Bob led Paul up to his room, which was painted a pastel yellow color and felt just as warm and cozy as the rest of the house. Paul admired the soft quilt on Bob’s bed and smiled when he realized he would be sleeping in it for the next week. As he sat on the bed, Paul noticed a shelf of sports trophies dating back from when Bob was a kid to just a few years prior to moving to Glasgow. "You played football?" he asked.

"Yeah. Ran cross country, too." Bob replied, the bed sagging as he settled down next to Paul.

"You didn't strike me as a sports guy!" Paul laughed.

"Why, because I'm chubby?"

"No! No, Bob, it's not that,” Paul said, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. “I just...I mean, you're an art student and all. Those two worlds don't usually…overlap." 

Bob shrugged. "I mean, yeah, I know. It was my parents' idea when I was a kid, and I really enjoyed it for a while. Just not my thing anymore, I guess." He took a breath, then looked at Paul with a sly grin. "I liked watching the other guys, though."

Paul laughed softly, reflecting on just how much love he felt in Bob’s home. Bob’s parents were proud of every single one of his achievements, from primary school football games to surviving his first semester of art school. He's so lucky.

“Did you play sports as a kid, Paul?”

Paul thought for a moment. “Maybe when I was really young. I’m not sure. I didn’t really do much of anything.”

"Oh?" Bob moved closer to Paul. "What do you mean…?"

Paul tensed and looked at Bob. “I didn’t have a normal childhood, I guess, and we never had money for that sort of stuff anyway.”

Bob nodded. “I get that.” He flopped down so he was lying on the bed, and Paul soon joined him.

“It’s… it’s not really an easy thing to just ‘get.’ I’m still dealing with it now. I haven’t even spoken to my siblings in years.”

"Oh," Bob said nervously. He had no siblings to speak to anyway, so he couldn't exactly relate, but he'd had no idea what Paul had been through.

“Yeah. Haven’t talked to my parents for even longer. Sometimes I feel bad for moving out and cutting myself off from my family, but…” Paul sighed, “it’s what I had to do.”

Bob nodded, unsure of what to say. He turned onto his side and wrapped himself around Paul's lithe frame, squeezing him in a hug. "It's okay. If this all goes well my family can be your family too.”

At that remark, Paul laughed and hugged Bob back. They laid there in silence for a few minutes before Bob suddenly sat up. “I think we should go back downstairs,” he sighed. His usually rosy cheeks looked pale.

“Are you getting nervous again?”

Bob nodded and cupped his face in his hands. “I don’t know if they’ll still love me…”

At that moment, Paul finally understood why Bob was so nervous. He was all his parents had. There were no other, more successful or wanted siblings to fall back on. It was just Bob, a former athlete now in art school, about to come out as gay. “I think they’ll still love you, Bob. It seems like they love you more than anything.”

Bob smiled and wrapped his arms around Paul once more. Paul could only see Bob’s blond curls and the yellow walls of the room and wondered how someone could possibly match their home so much. Why wasn’t their flat enveloped in pastel colors and cozy blankets?

“Ready to go downstairs now?”

“Yeah, but…” Bob sighed, “I think I don’t want to come out yet. I can wait a few days.”

“That’s ok,” Paul tried his best to reassure Bob, gently stroking his back. “If you’re not ready yet, then you don’t have to.”

“Maybe I can drop hints, to try and gage what they think?” Bob asked nervously.

“You could try,” Paul said thoughtfully. “But maybe it would be better to just get it over with, you know? Like how you’re supposed to rip off a plaster all in one go so it doesn’t hurt so much?”

Bob took a deep breath, pulling Paul closer, nuzzling his hair. “You’re right. I need to bite the bullet. I just need to work out what I’m going to say.”

“You can practice on me, if you want.”

“No, I…” Bob smiled as he stood up and walked cautiously towards the door. “I’ll be right back.”

Bob walked to the large bathroom across the corridor and quietly closed the door. Standing in front of the sink, he noticed that his hands were shaking; his heart thudded so violently that Bob was sure it would launch itself out of his body. He closed his eyes, taking in slow, deep breaths to calm himself. After a few minutes, his heartbeat slowed down and his trembling had largely ceased. Bob opened his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror in front of him. His body had calmed, but dread still radiated from his eyes. Despite the waves of panic resurfacing, he knew that it was time. 

He unlocked the door and walked cautiously down the stairs. These could be the last normal moments of his life. He took a deep breath and calmly approached the living room, where his parents were sitting and watching TV. 

“Oh, hi, Robert!” His mother greeted him with a beaming smile. “Are you both settled in?”

“Um, yeah, we are, thanks.”

Just do it. Just say it.

“You’re sure you don’t mind sharing a bed? There should be enough room for the both of you, but we just couldn’t think of anywhere else that would be comfortable for you both.”

“No, we don’t mind. There’s plenty of space.”

Spit it out, for fuck’s sake.

“That’s good,” Bob’s dad chimed in with an equally cheery expression on his face. “It’s lovely that you’ve made such a close friend at uni already.”

Is that a hint? Do they know?

“Yes, he’s seems like such a lovely boy, Robert.” Mrs. Hardy gave her son a comforting smile, and Bob relaxed, just a little. He had missed his parents a lot since he left for uni. They were caring people, and it was obvious that they loved him dearly. 

It’ll be ok. Just do it.

“I’m gay.”

Mr and Mrs Hardy took a double-take as their son blurted out these words. They stared at him blankly for a moment, and Bob’s anxiety reappeared; he felt as if it had its hand around his throat, squeezing and choking him.

“What did you say, Robert?” Bob had frozen still at his mother’s words. Usually he found her so easy to read, but he had no clue what either of his parents were thinking. With what little breath he had left, he almost whispered his response.

“I’m gay. What… what do you think?” 

Mr and Mrs Hardy looked at each, then returned their gaze to their only child.

“Robert…” Bob closed his eyes in anticipation at his father’s words, bracing himself for the worst. “That’s ok, Robert.”

Bob reopened his eyes to find both parents once again smiling at him. The hand around his neck vanished, but a lump in his throat remained.

“It… it is?” 

“Of course!” Mrs Hardy stood up from the sofa and approached her son. “We’ve always sort of known, Robert. Don’t look so panicked, darling!”

Before he knew it, Bob felt hot tears streaming down his face. His mother wrapped him in her arms, slowly stroking his soft, golden hair, the colour that matched her own. 

“We love you. You know that we always will.” Robert’s father joined their embrace, and held his small family close. Bob had never felt so light now that the weight of being in the closet was lifted from his shoulders. 

The three stayed in their embrace for a long time, until Mrs Hardy interjected.

“Wait, so does that mean Paul…” She struggled to find the right word, not wanting to press him too hard.

The words left Bob’s mouth before he could stop to consider them. “He’s… my boyfriend.”

His parents squeezed him even more tightly, a little too tightly for his liking, and his mother let out an excited squeal.

“I’m so glad! Why don’t you go get him? I’ll bake cupcakes! Does he like cupcakes? I can make them rainbow!” Bob giggled at his mother’s flurry of words.

“Yes, he loves cupcakes. Although he’ll pretty much eat anything.” Bob smiled shyly as he thought about Paul. “I’ll tell him to come down.”

As Bob ran up the stairs two at a time, Mrs. Hardy just as quickly ran to the kitchen, but not before sending Mr. Hardy to the shop for a surprise for the two boys. Bob’s dad smiled proudly as he walked to the car, pleased that his home was once again full of excitement.

---

“You told your parents I’m your boyfriend?” Paul grabbed Bob’s arm and sat him down on the bed as soon as they got to Bob’s room. “Your mum really thinks we’re getting married.”

“That’s the goal, isn’t it?”

“We don’t know that yet.”

“So I’m just a hookup to you, or something?” Bob said a bit louder than intended.

“No, Bobbo… you mean more to me than anything, but… you really had to call me your boyfriend? I don’t think I’m your boyfriend yet.”

“I didn’t really know what else I could say—”

“Maybe we could use that label one day, but—” Paul sighed, “not yet.”

“Why not? What are we, then?” 

“I don’t know, Bob. I don’t think we’re anything yet.”

“Are we dating? Could I at least say we’re dating?”

Paul laughed shakily. “Well, we’ve been on dates…”

“So, what, they didn’t mean anything to you? You’re just Dino’s little bitch boy!” Bob huffed and flopped on his back. “That’s why you won’t say we’re boyfriends. Because you’re being controlled by his stupid, ratty—”

“Y’know what, Bob… let’s just forget about this for now.” Paul was taken aback by Bob's sudden outburst. He bit his tongue to keep himself from lashing out any more.

"Yeah, you never want to talk about anything," Bob grumbled, rolling over to face the wall. The air was tense for a few moments before Bob let out a sigh. "I'm sorry," he said, quieter this time. "I guess I'm still all fired up from coming out."

"It's okay," Paul said, his voice quiet as well. He turned to look at Bob, tentatively placing a hand on his back. "We'll talk about it when we get home. I promise."

Bob rolled onto his back to look at Paul, his blue eyes shining. He nodded meekly.

"I'm proud of you, Bobbo," Paul continued with a smile. "You did great out there." He ran his fingers through Bob's hair, messing it a bit.

Bob couldn't help but let out a giggle. "Couldn't have done it without you, Paulie." He paused, then added, "So, we're okay, right?"

Paul laid down beside Bob and wrapped an arm across his stomach. "Yeah. We're okay."

“Let’s hope everything’s still the same in the morning.”

“Don’t worry. It will be.” 

[derangedsilence]

Subaru Sakamaki

Permissions

Shipping?  Yes.  Singleship per verse with limited verses.  Please note - as stated on the rules page, orientation is typically listed as what the muses think they are.

Duplicates? Multiple ‘Yuis’?  What about character that aren’t on the dedicated castmates list?  Yes.  You can thrust Subaru at Subaru.  There’s also no issue with duplicates of canon, crossover, etc. characters that Subaru is already interacting with.  You want it, you got it.   To prevent destroying the validity of duplicate muses, I will sometimes think of things as ‘A Kanato did this’ instead of ‘Kanato did this’, which is a very subtle difference but prevents another muse from having to deal with the blame of an event they were not responsible for.  This will only be differentiated as necessary within writing.  I repeat: all duplicate muses will be treated with respect, not as ‘fakes’.  Any Sakamaki brother is a brother of his, regardless of how many Kanatos there are (for example).  We’re just going to, uh, slide past that as often as possible (and occasionally make jokes).

Multiple Subarus will be treated as though they’d somehow wandered into one’s world or the other via some enchanted, strange object or doorway in the Sakamaki household.  This allows them to interact, but prevents the concept that one is a ‘true’ Subaru over the other.  You have been warned.

Fighting?  A-Okay.  I’ve done a lot of fighting roleplay but it was in the past and I’m way more interested in the storytelling of it.  It’s better that we discuss the end result beforehand for smoother sailing, but we can improv it as well.  I do this from a storytelling perspective.

Harming? A-Okay!  Just be aware that this muse may harm or kill yours in turn!

Killing? A-Okay!  Please be aware, however, that should the need or desire to continue the verse arise, the death scene will be considered a what-if.  In addition, it is very difficult to kill this muse due to the pureblood resurrection abilities.

Can we send shippy memes / etc.? Sure, we can still explore what-ifs, drabbles and oneshot threads, but the main focus will be on the storyline here!

Can we know Yui has Cordelia’s heart, is possibly turning into a vampire, is surrounded by vampires, etc. and reference this to Subaru? On a case-by-case basis.  It should be discovered organically if it’s not something your character would be able to know already.  There’s plenty of situations where this would make sense.

Can we know about Subaru’s past before interacting?  No, not unless you have genuine reasons for it like being one of his brothers.

Can we have characters comment on the events of the timeline? Yes, if they “catch sight of”, “overhear a rumor”, “a familiar saw X”, or any other sensible reason, then characters can be aware of and comment on events.  I wholly encourage characters participate in Subaru’s life!  Please tell the story with me!

Can we rescue Yui Komori from the Sakamaki household? Unlikely.  At best, if you succeed in the first place, it’s entirely likely that they will find you, they will take Yui back, and they will kill one or both of you for this.  Or the Mukamis might take advantage of the situation!  Obviously, the exception here is the Mukamis, who are entirely expected to attempt this from time to time.

Can we reference interactions we’ve had with your Kanato, etc. to Subaru?  I mean...sure?  If you want?  I’m fine with using my muses for plot and timeline advancements for myself and those I interact with (within limits) but I’d also prefer to not be my Ayato’s Kanato and vice versa, so this would probably be limited.  You can still act like what’s happened has happened, though.

Biography / Stats

FULL NAME. Subaru Sakamaki ALIAS. Subaru-kun (Yui), Hermit/Shut-In (Ayato) AGE. Appears 16-17 || Actually significantly older BIRTHDAY. November 4 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male, he/him ORIENTATION. Heterosexual...? SPECIES. Vampire OCCUPATION. High school student of the night school known as Ryoutei Academy. 1st year in HDB, 2nd year if assuming time has passed. RESIDENCE. Sakamaki residence, Japan

HAIR. White, silverish, lavender-ish, faintly reddish EYES. Red, reddish-pink BUILD. Athletic (mostly from all the street-fighting) HEIGHT. 5'10'' (178cm) TATTOOS. None PIERCINGS. None. ADDITIONAL MARKINGS.   Wears a necklace twice-wrapped around his neck with a golden key hanging from it. OTHER. Left-handed

ZODIAC. Scorpio  ALIGNMENT. Chaotic Good (kind of...)  POSITIVE TRAITS. sincere, protective, sensitive   NEGATIVE TRAITS. violent, foul-tempered, distrustful

BIRTH PLACE. Japan NATIONALITY. Japanese PARENTS. Karlheinz (Alive?), Christa (Alive?) SIBLINGS. Paternal Half-siblings: Shuu, Reiji, and the triplets (Ayato, Kanato, Laito) EXTENDED FAMILY. Karlheinz's other wives, Beatrix and Cordelia. Richter (Uncle). EDUCATION. High school (likely several times over) SPECIES. Vampire NOTABLE SKILLS. Hand-to-hand combat, swordfighting, knife-fighting, street fighting...  LANGUAGES. Japanese, English  FAVORITE FOOD. None

PUREBLOOD. Inhuman strength, increased speed, vision, hearing, and smell. Fast healing & healing saliva. TELEPORTATION. Can teleport instantaneously. FLYING. He can fly on a full moon. OTHER. If any additional skills unique to himself exist, it’s not elaborated on much.    WEAKNESSES. Truly holy objects weaken him, but not by much.  Has a hard time controlling himself when he’s thirsty for blood. DISLIKES.   Himself, his mother’s episodes, people forcing someone into a position that resembles his mother’s situation

Appearance

[*Credit: Appearance section pulled directly from the Dialovers Wiki.]

Subaru has silverish light-lavender, whitish hair with reddish tones, making his hair color not too dissimilar from his brother Kanato’s far-less-pale “purple”.  He has scarlet red eyes with a slight pinkish hue.  

In HAUNTED DARK BRIDAL, he is usually seen wearing a black jacket with a red shirt underneath which has a brown belt around it.  The ends of the red shirt appear to be ripped/shredded.  He also wears black jeans and a necklace that is wrapped twice around his neck with a golden-colored key on it.

In MORE, BLOOD, he wears a black jacket with a black shirt underneath.  He also wears black pants and has a black sweater around his waist.  He wears the necklace with this outfit as well.

His school uniform consists of the black school blazer with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow and a black shirt underneath that is ripped near the bottom and a white shirt underneath it which is longer and is also ripped at the bottom.  There is a small chain loop on the bottom left side of the jacket.  He wears it with the standard uniform pants.  He also wears white heeled boots.  He wears a wrist band on his left arm.  He wears the necklace with this as well.

Personality

A loner, Subaru sticks to himself and tries to avoid getting involved.  He sees no point in getting involved in the mess that is his family and often attempts to avoid it until he cannot resist some kind of response.

A delinquent, Subaru is violent and loves getting into fights.  He frequently breaks objects with little regard.  In contrast, he is gentle, but it’s buried underneath considering himself filthy, ignorant, unwanted and generally awful.  Rather than deliberately show his nicer traits, he spends most of his time trying to push anyone and everyone away and out of his life so he can remain alone.  

He absolutely abhors his father and loves his mother very much, but his feelings with his mother are...complicated.  His mother is prone to extreme episodes that intensely frame how she sees and responds to both Karlheinz, her brother and husband, as well as Subaru himself, their child.  She would often ask him to kill her or attempt to harm him.  Originally blaming only his father, when Subaru tried to protect her from Karlheinz she rejected him, slapped him hard and ran to his father’s arms.  Subaru’s feelings towards women is...confused, at best.  At worst, he finds them difficult to trust and believe in.

History

CHILDHOOD. The only child of Christa and Karlheinz and the youngest of the Sakamaki boys, much of his life was an early rollercoaster.  His mother was extremely mentally unstable after realizing that Karlheinz never loved her and only wanted to use her to create an incest child for the sake of his experiments.  She hated Subaru before he was even born because of this, considering him impure and filthy.  Christa frequently begged Subaru to kill her or would try to harm him herself.  Once Subaru realized that his mother truly loved Karlheinz to the point of being willing to harm Subaru for trying to protect her from him, Subaru was floored, unable to know what such a woman really wanted.

Eventually, he met his brothers at a dinner party where all three wives brought the children to.  His first thoughts on the siblings were that he absolutely did not want to get involved with them.

NEAR CURRENT.  Karlheinz manipulated circumstances to keep tossing experimental sacrificial brides at his children.  None could endure the blood loss, physical and emotional torment.  The sacrificial brides were too fragile and the Sakamakis broke their toys.  

CURRENT. A single sacrificial bride is surviving and enduring: Yui Komori.  Whichever brother obtains her will become the Sakamaki heir.  Without directly entering into a “relationship” with any of the Sakamakis, she endures her stay there.

Verses

Brief summaries of the verses for Subaru along with potential links for those less familiar with Diabolik Lovers but still want to interact with him.  For the sake of keeping things clean, encouraging community-wide and cooperative storytelling in roleplay, and not letting things get too crazy, verses will be limited.  More may be made over time as needed.

Summaries:

| DL Anime | DL More Blood Anime | Haunted Dark Bridal | More Blood | (Coming Soon)

VERSE - HAUNTED DARK BRIDAL

*This verse will be typically be the default, 'main verse'. In this, it is assumed that Yui Komori is staying at the Sakamaki household with some version of the first game having taken place. If the second game is included, it's with the idea that Yui stayed with the Sakamakis. Whether Subaru or one of his brothers winds up obtaining the Sacrificial Bride, Subaru’s life continues.

Verse Details | Tag: #V; SUBARU; HAUNTED DARK BRIDAL

VERSE - MORE BLOOD

If for some reason it's absolutely necessary to differentiate between the verse above and a verse where More Blood has certainly occured, but Yui did not (at least initially) stay with the Sakamakis and instead is currently living with the Mukamis or was, until recently, still living with the Mukamis.  Rivalry abounds and attempts to procure Yui are likely.

Verse Details | Tag: #V; SUBARU; MORE BLOOD

VERSE - MISC.

Posts that could take place in the Sakamaki or Mukami verses but involve duplicates (whether Yui or others) in the same scene in a manner that would be hard to pass off as typical flow for those verses.  Also includes nearly ANY time fellow characters are staying at the mansion, otherwise we’d end up with verses of 20+ additional characters hanging out in the Sakamaki villa.  

Verse Details | Tag:#V; SUBARU; MISC

SITUATIONAL VERSE TAGS

#V; SUBARU; UNIVERSAL

Posts that can easily be assumed to have occured in either the Sakamaki or Mukami verses, typically answering asks, etc. that aren’t directly related to events unique to their timelines.

#V; SUBARU; WHAT IFS & #V; SUBARU; ONESHOTS

Likely reserved for one-off threads exploring a “what if”, a romantic meme that would otherwise be inappropriate, etc.  If a meme doesn’t quite fit with one of the existing timelines, it’ll get one of these.

Trivia

Has no friends at school.

Has no favorite food or a favored hobby.

Shuu is his favorite brother and looks up to him somewhat.

He likes Kanato’s singing.

Tags

THREAD / WRITING TAG: #echoes in the halls; subaru

HEADCANONS:  #hc; dialovers; subaru

IMAGES: #itt // subaru sakamaki

MUSIC:  #music; dialovers; subaru

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E2; Chapter Two, The Weirdo On Maple Street - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Gender Neutral!Reader Series

𝘠/𝘯, 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴, 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯.

||𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Lucas, Dustin and I take our seats once we get to class.

"Oh, that can't be good." I sigh, gesturing to Mike's empty seat.

"Yeah, he's never this late," Dustin added.

"I'm telling you, his stupid plan failed," Lucas stated.

"I thought you liked his plan?"

"Yeah, but obviously it's stupid, or he'd be here."

"If his mom found out a girl spent the night—" Dustin began.

"He's in deep shit right about now."

Dustin shifted in his seat, and leaned forward, whispering loud enough for us to hear. "Hey, what if she slept naked?"

"Ugh!" My face screws into a sour, disgusted look aimed at my brother, unintentionally speaking at the same time as Lucas. "Why would she do that, Dustin?"

"Oh, my God, she didn't."

"Oh, if Mrs. Wheeler tells our parents..."

The thought of Mom finding out was enough to elicit an anxious groan from me, and I let my forehead fall against desk where I buried my face.

"No way. Mike would never rat us out."

I hesitantly looked up, making eye contact with Lucas. He gave me a reassuring smile, knowing I worry easily.

"I don't know." Dustin said warily.

"All that matters is, after school, the freak will be back in the loony bin, and we can focus on what really matters, finding Will." I frown at his specific choice of words for El, thinking back on how scared she seemed last night. I desperately want to say something, but decided against it, not wanting to get in a fight. Fighting won't get us any closer to finding Will.

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Mike Wheeler rides his bike down the small slope of grass towards his front yard. When El refused to let Mike's mom know she was there, Mike had no choice but to resort to plan b. He had led his mom to believe that he had ridden to school when in reality he had stopped around the corner until both his parents were gone.

When he got to the driveway, he dismounted his bike and led it into the garage, however something caught his eye. He stared in awe as the once withered and frankly the most miserable looking plant he had ever seen in his life, was now a beautiful lush green and stood as tall his knees. 'How had Y/n done it?'

It took a solid moment for Mike to gather his thoughts and focus on the task at hand. He parked his bike and made his way inside.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"You want anything to drink?" Mike decided to take advantage of the empty house so that he could show El around. "We have OJ, skim milk... What else? Um, we have..."

Mike trailed off when he saw that El was more fascinated with the things in his living room, mostly his TV set.

"Oh, this is my living room. It's mostly just for watching TV."

El lightly traced her fingers around the frame of the TV as she examined it.

"Nice, right? It's a 22-inch.

That's, like, ten times bigger than Dustin's."

El turned her head and said quietly.

"Y/n."

"Well, yeah of course. Y/n too."

"Dustin. Brother?" She asked, making sure she remembered correctly.

"Yeah!" Mike smiled, then lightly shrugged. "Well, technically Y/n's adopted. But yeah, they're still siblings."

El's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Ad-adopted?"

"Yeah, um, it means that they came from different parents. Mrs. Henderson adopted them because their parents were unable to take care of them. It's funny actually, Y/n is from Hawkins. Or at least that's where they were found. The Hendersons didn't used to live in Hawkins; I don't know much about it cause Dustin was so young he doesn't remember any of it, but I think him and his mom were visiting family here and they just... found Y/n, I think? I'm pretty sure that's why they moved here, or something."

El seemed to understand as she thought about it. She then turned to look at the all the pictures on top of the fireplace. She slowly walks to the fireplace and steps up onto the brick platform. She gazes at all the family photos. Particularly, the photo beside the one of Mike; of a smiling girl, a little older than herself, with long brown hair and a pink sweater.

She smiles longingly and speaks in a soft voice. "Pretty."

"I guess." Mike's face is contorted in confusion and a little in disgust.

"That's my sister Nancy. And that's baby Holly." He said as she moved to the slightly larger photo of a young baby. She then moved along to a photo with Mike, Nancy, and Holly, along with two other people she didn't recognize.

"And those are my parents. What are your parents like?" As usual, El says nothing and she steps down from the fireplace and walks up to a large green chair.

"Do they live close?" Mike continued. He notices El run her hand along the top of the plush green chair. "That's our La-Z-Boy. It's where my dad sleeps. You can try it if you want." He offers. El looked up at him, intrigued. "Yeah." He assured her, with a warm smile on his face. She cautiously sits down as Mike kneels down beside the chair. "It's fun!"

She looked to Mike, wondering what he is up to.

"Just trust me, okay?" She gives a quick nod, and braces herself, not knowing what to expect. She is taken aback by the sudden collapse of the chair, she is now laying down and the chair is rocking back and forth. She lets out a gasp, and then a nervous chuckle.

"See? Fun, right?"

With one hand on the back of the chair, and the other on the front, he brings the recliner back into its default position. "Now you try."

With a small smile on her face, and feeling more confident she leans over the side and pulls the handle, letting her entire body go flying backward into a slow rock. Mike and El both look at each other and laugh gleefully.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The random rock song on the radio that Jonathan barely recognized came to an end as Jonathan Byers drove to his dad's house. His eyes darted to the radio unit in his car for a moment as his heart fell when the familiar sound of "Should I Stay or Should I Go" rang throughout the car.

- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

"Darlin', you got to let me know"

Jonathan is sat on the edge of the bed next to his younger brother Will. The two of them are in Will's room, bobbing their heads along to 'Should I Stay or Should I Go' by The Clash.

"Should I stay or should I go?"

"You like it?" Jonathan had to raise his voice so he could be heard over the loud song. Will looks to his older brother and grins.

"Yeah, it's cool!"

"All right, you can keep the mix if you want."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. All the best stuff's on there. Joy Division, Bowie, Television, The Smith's... It'll totally change your life."

"Yeah, totally," Will says with a smile. However, the smile is quick to leave when the two boys hear their mother yelling on the phone.

"Where the hell are you, Lonnie?"

Will slowly turns his head to the door, listening to his mother yell at his absent father.

"I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear it." Jonathan mimics his brother's actions and looks to the door. Finally, he gets up and walks towards the door.

"This is ridiculous! I'm so sick of your excuses."

"One day is fine and next is black"

Before Jonathan sits down, he lowers the volume on the stereo.

"He's not coming, is he?"

"Do you even like baseball?" Jonathan asks softly.

"No, but... I don't know." He shrugs sadly. "It's fun to go with him sometimes."

"Come on. Has he ever done anything with you that you actually like? You know, like the arcade or something?"

Will shrugs his shoulders weakly. "I don't know."

"No, all right? He hasn't. He's trying to force you to like normal things. And you shouldn't like things because people tell you you're supposed to. Okay?"

Will only looks down at his feet sadly.

"Especially not him."

Will silently nods his head in understanding.

Jonathan decided to change the subject.

"But you like The Clash? For real?"

Will nods his head eagerly with a smile. "For real. Definitely."

"So... is Y/n a fan of The Clash?" Jonathan asks, genuinely curious.

A faint blush dusts Will's cheeks as he looks down at his hands. "Um, yeah, I think so."

"Maybe you should show this to them. I bet they'll like it."

"Maybe. You think?"

"Yeah, from what I know, they have great taste. They're pretty cool."

A loving smile spreads across Will's face. "Yeah, they are pretty cool."

There's a small pause filled only with the now dulled melody of drums and guitar drifting through the air. They had talked about it before, but only vaguely, never fully addressing it and it dawned on Jonathan that there was probably still loads of fear for Will because of it. He looks down at his brother who he loved more than anything and sent him an encouraging, honest smile.

"Will, you guys are best friends. You two are just too close to ruin the friendship. Why don't you think about asking them to the arcade or something? Just the two of you. Maybe come back here for some Mac and Cheese or something if that'd make you feel safer, and you could," he shrugs. "let them know how you feel?"

Will looked up at his brother, shocked. But his body was flushed with relief, he could feel the air in the room hitting his sweaty and clammey skin giving him chills. Not quite knowing how to handle his brothers reaction, his eyes simply fall to his hands where they fidgeting in his lap.

"But what if that does ruin the friendship? What if they don't feel the same way, and they decide to stop hanging out with me? Or if someone finds out- I just- I just can't. I'm not ready."

"That's okay. All I'm saying is, they're way too nice to be the kind of person who would do that. And you are way too important to them. And hey, if you ever do feel ready, or you guys do go out in the future..." Jonathan trails off, sensing the awkwardness creep up. He chuckles and looks back to his brother.

"All I'm trying to say is, I'm here for you. Always."

Will smiles gratefully and Jonathan leans forward to the volume back up.

"Should I stay or should I go? So you gotta let me know, should I stay or should I go?"

- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

[nerdy-flower]

Folks on AO3 seemed to like this one, so I decided to cross-post it here! Enjoy!~

Solstice

Jesse and Hanzo's wedding ceremony + Genji's best-man-by-default speech, absolutely the sappiest nonsense I have ever written.

The tile of Fareeha and Angela's master bathroom is cool beneath Jesse's dress socks as he leans closer to the mirror. A delicate touch is needed with the comb to coax his hair into the nice, slightly slicked-back look he wants without raising any cowlicks. He sings to himself, a low echo beneath the struggling air conditioner and the chaotic din of their charming cabin-type setup.

Weddings have oddly never meant much to Jesse. The slivers he remembers of his mom indicate he was born on the wrong side of the blanket. His grandfather was just a photo over the piano and a pair of boots in the hall closet, his and Gran's rings pawned to pay for something or other back then. In Deadlock, no one could afford to end up on paper, even at a drive-thru chapel out of Vegas, so relationships had to be memorialized in other, louder ways. He's been to the occasional engagement happy hour for various coworkers since, but hadn't so much as attended a wedding until Genji and Zen got hitched last year.

“Oh I'm, gonna do this ri-ight,” Jesse hums, lips sticking together as he smooths his recently trimmed, still-damp beard into tidiness. “Show you I'm not movin', wherever you go-”

“Are you done yet, Jesse?” Ana raps on the half-open door, looking like she stepped out of a high-end fashion magazine. Forever classy, despite maintaining the highest kill-count in her division. She chuckles at his suit, seeing it for the first time. “Very handsome! But I thought white was only for virgins?”

“Nah, see? It's hussy white.” Jesse gestures to the cream-coloured jacket as he shrugs it on, satisfied with his face.

Ana snorts into her hand and brandishes a red rose, its stem wrapped with ribbon and baby's breath or whatever those little white things are called. “The flowers arrived, let me.”

“Thanks, Ma.” Jesse smiles warmly, sticking his chest out so she can pin the boutonniere to his lapel. “Everything goin' okay out there?”

The theme of their wedding might be “no fuss, for chrissakes” but Jesse still wants it to be a good time. Everybody had worked so hard to put this on for them. It might not be a big shindig, but he wants it to be a memorable, relatively disaster-free one.

“Of course,” Ana demures with a smile and a slow wave of her hand. “Everything's fine, nothing's on fire, these are not the droids you're looking for.”

Jesse laughs and gets an affectionate pat to the cheek before she hurries off to check on something or other. The younger Ms. Amari appears in her wake, plum-painted lips all pursed. “Get out of my toilet, I need to unfuck this eyeliner.”

“Told ya not to use your phone,” Jesse smirks, glancing at her enormous bunny slippers as they swap places. “Oh, please tell me you're wearing those for the photos.”

“I have hose on!” Fareeha gestures exasperatedly at her legs before rubbing a q-tip over her tongue. She looks real cute, all dolled up in that blue number Angie's sure to love.

Jesse shuffles down the hall in a mild fugue state, fixing his cuffs unnecessarily. He ought to be doing something, but he doesn't know what. The reception is a while away yet, that had been more his bag. He's less about ceremony and more about celebration, he supposes, but that's a bit reductive, isn't it? The faint burn of a red dragon recently inked into his upper arm is telling. He has a poetic heart, so he's told, a love for a symbol's secret meaning rather than its apparent one.

“There it is,” Gabe says behind him, Jesse turning on his heel to see Genji jogging up the stairs, a flush in his cheeks. “You alright? I heard shouting.”

“Oh yeah, just Hanzo being himself.” Genji rolls his eyes as he passes off Jesse's missing tie, nodding at him. “Do you have the lint-roller?”

“Olivia had it, last I saw.” Jesse answers, sending Genji hurrying back to the living room, hopefully to put on something besides pants and a tank top. “D'ya mind- ah, thanks.”

Gabe smiles as he leans into Jesse's space to fix his collar and tie the tie. “So, you ready to stand up in front of God and everyone and bet half your stuff that you'll love this guy forever?”

“Damn skippy I am,” Jesse laughs, watching Gabe's scarred hands work on a perfect knot. “Oh, by the way, I had Lúcio put 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' on the playlist for you two.”

“Aw, how thoughtful.” Gabe drawls, doing that fake-grin that stretches out the hole in his cheek for effect. “Are you gonna cry?”

“'Course not, we live together. There's nothin' to cry about.”

“He's gonna cry,” Jack says confidently, leaning on the banister while Gabe fixes the tie just so and steps away to grab some things. “Hana put tissues in your inside pocket.”

“You might need some, I won't.” Jesse retorts, jokingly defiant. He rocks back on his heels and takes a second to breathe. The last six weeks were a blur, but he remembers the next steps. Enter with Gabe and Ana on his arms, stand tall and look pretty waiting for Hanzo, everything else is on note-cards. Easy as pie.

“Hey.” Jesse adds after a moment's thought, and after Jack's screen-reader finishes telling him that Lulu ate her food and is doing fine at the kennel, thanks so much. “You don't feel- left out of this, do ya?”

He isn't sure what he'd do if Jack did, at this point, but it seems worth asking. Jesse's time in their patchwork family had seen him through their good times and their not-talking periods where Gabe continually said he was fine, but played way too much shitty music to mean it. His attitude had clashed with the former soldier's early and often, and at times it felt like it was him and Gabe versus Jack. He's way too old for that shit now, and the guy had paid for his GED, amongst other things in his quest to accidentally parent everyone he ran across.

“Hm? Oh, god no.” Jack breathes a laugh, folding his arms. “Honestly, I'll be happy to sit down and relax for the rest of the day.”

“You sat down the whole way here,” Gabe notes, handing Jesse his fancy shoes. “At least you got to nap.”

“I got out and pumped gas,” Jack replies, with an almost petulant cock of his head. “And do you know how boring that highway is without the scenery? I nearly lost my mind.”

“I know, I know,” Gabe scoffs, gripping the man's bicep in a manner that could be construed as loving. “And you did such a good job pumping that gas, it's what I keep you around for.”

“Hmph.” But there's an entirely fond smile with it, his fingers curling over Gabe's. Goddamn they're cute, in their black and slate suits with the little matching pocket squares. They had best not start making out at the wet bar, though that would be an improvement on Jack pretending he knows how to do the running man.

As they step out of the sliding-glass patio doors into the heady summer air, Gabe squeezes the back of his neck in what Olivia calls a 'man-hug,' though Gabe is far from the too-insecure-to-actually-hug type. “No la cagues, alright, mijo?”

Jesse snorts, knowing he doesn't mean walking down the aisle. “I won't.”

There's nothing fancy to it, not even a proper altar, just a bunch of folding chairs and a borrowed music stand  for Mondatta to set his notes on. Camping tents off to the side, lights and flowers strung through the surrounding trees, music playing softly through Lucio's speakers- a piano version of the ending credits theme to a movie they both love. But then Hanzo walks out, in the same outfit he'd tied Genji into last year, his brother on one arm and Amélie on the other. There's some shuffling and laughing over how to link elbows properly, but then their eyes meet while everyone's backs are turned and he smiles so sweet and Jesse's chest feels so full- “Oh god, he's so gorgeous.”

“Called it,” Fareeha whispers, smug as anything at his side, rose pinned to her chest and ringbox in hand. Jesse smacks her discreetly, to the amusement of the spiritual leader behind them, but can't say anything around the lump in his throat.

It's all he can do not to smooch those lips right there while Genji steps to one side and Amélie takes her seat. Hanzo takes his hands and grips tight, the afternoon sunlight doing wonderful things to his brown eyes, and it's enough for now.

“Dear friends, we gather here today to celebrate what will hopefully be only one of many happy days shared by Jesse and Hanzo. They have asked me to thank you on their behalf, for coming together to support them.” Mondatta begins, and goddamn if he doesn't sound straight out of a movie with the gravitas in his voice. Add the resplendent, silvery robes on top, and Jesse gets the draw of his speeches, and why Lena looks like she might explode whenever he's around. Dude's got charisma for days. “There are so many people who influence our lives and the paths we take, from before we are born until after we have gone. If you'll permit me a moment's indulgence, I would like all of us to close our eyes for a minute and think about those people, perhaps especially the ones who cannot be with us today. I'll keep the time.”

In the head-bent pause, Jesse feels Hanzo's hands shake minutely and he squeezes back tight. It's one thing to wonder, with gratitude and frustration, about how he got here and why. It's another to know, and speculate with all the acute pain of memory.

“Thank you,” Mondatta says, looking up from his simple wristwatch and back to his notes, a smile in his voice. “As we stand in recognition of the commitment that these two are making to each other, we acknowledge that their life together is not starting, but has already begun. They have withstood many hardships and experienced many joys that have led them to make this proclamation not lightly, but gladly, solemnly, and with great courage. In your shared life, we all wish you peace, but acknowledge the yet-unknown hardships that will test you and the bond you share. Are you prepared to take on these challenges together?”

“We are,” they manage in almost-unison, Jesse half a beat behind. Hanzo smiles at him sideways, sweat building at his temples as the sun beats down on the black cotton of his kimono.

Mondatta nods, almost cat-like in his satisfaction. “Good. Now, while you are self-sufficient adults-” Oof, that might be a stretch. “-You will still need a community to nurture you, and many hands to help you on the road ahead. So I ask all of you here today, do you pledge to support these two and the family they've created, to speak the truth kindly to them, and to lend them your strength in times of need?”

Scarcely a second passes before the air rings with “We do!” and the occasional “Hell yeah!”- even an impressive whistle from someone. Hanzo's eyes well up then, as they smile out over the crowd, though he thumbs the tears away quick as can be. Heaven forbid someone capture him having an emotion on film, Genji's quip materializes in Jesse's mind with only a sharp smirk over his brother's shoulder.

“How wonderful,” Mondatta continues, off-script and genuine. “The two will now exchange the vows they have written. Jesse, I believe you 'called first dibs.'”

Jesse's face aches from smiling while the titter dies down. He locks his eyes on his fiancé's and tries not to talk too fast. “Hanzo, you know me better than anyone else in the world and somehow, you still love me.” Muted laughter again, and an endeared chuckle from Hanzo, the same one he'll never get enough of. “You tell me all the time how I've made you a better man, but I don't think you realize that you've done the same to me and more. So, I promise to remind you of that every day, and I'll do everything I can to look after you and make sure you don't regret this, till death do us part.”

Hanzo's laugh turns wet, but his smile doesn't flag. He clears his throat at Mondatta's nod, shutting his eyes a moment to block everyone out. They had purposefully kept it short, Hanzo struggling to be sentimental in public. Even still, there isn't an ounce of hesitance in his serious, stage-worthy tone. “Jesse, I promise to always give you the best of myself, though you have often put up with my worst. I will take your family as my family, as you have already taken mine. I will work hard to make you at least half as happy as you've made me, to ensure our life together is well-lived, and I'll always draw you handsome.”

The laughter is mixed with sniffles now, one at Jesse's back and surprisingly none at Hanzo's, though Genji's glasses do nothing to hide the red in his eyes. The 'boring bit,' as their rehearsal sticky notes read, allows Jesse to catch his breath. They sign the register with their loopiest signatures, Genji and Fareeha stepping forward to do the same. Genji pours the sake for the san-san-ku-do ceremony Hanzo taught him the week before, Jesse kneading his chest afterwards. “Oof, shoulda had breakfast.”

“Do not vomit,” Hanzo whispers in that crisp, eye-narrowing tone Jesse's come to know and adore. He just snickers, though he hopes somebody remembered to make dinner rolls.

In the slim moment where the cups and bottle are cleared away, Jesse looks back. Zen's in the front row, neatly dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief, cute guy that he is. Ana is beaming, a single tear slipping down her cheek while she there-there pats a weepy Reinhardt. Gabe and Jack sit in similar tired old men poses, but their eyes tell all, Jack's arm looped around Gabe's shoulders. Torbjörn's brood takes up the two back rows, Brigitte shushing some of the younger ones as they fidget in the formal clothing they were wrestled into this morning. The rest of their friends sit rapt and smiling, leaning on each other and fanning themselves in the sticky heat. Even Amélie's smile is softer than usual.

“Now it is time for the exchange of rings,” Mondatta intones with something like giddiness, or as close as someone like him gets. He pauses so that Genji can open the box for his brother to take the ring, the glance between them speaking volumes. “Hanzo, if you would please take Jesse's hand and tell him first why you love him, second why this day is important to you.”

Hanzo obeys, having requested to go first so that he might 'maintain some dignity,' since Jesse's dignity obviously up and went a long time ago. He takes Jesse's flesh hand in his, his smile more than blue skies and sunshine to his fiancé in that moment. “I love you because you are a truly good man, one stubborn enough to love me.” Everyone gets a good laugh at that while Hanzo pushes his braid back over his shoulder. “And because I wished to show you that I'll never leave your side.”

The multicoloured band slips on with ease. They've worn them as engagement rings all this time, but slim tears still join at Jesse's chin. The levity in Hanzo's words somehow keeps the tremble from his own, but only just. Fareeha's grin is as big as his while she holds out the box, Hanzo's right hand almost fragile in the grip of his metal fingers. “I love you because you showed me that my dreams weren't anywhere near as good as reality.” Hanzo's lips pull thin at that. Who knew they'd both grow up to be such sappy bastards? “And because I wanted to prove how serious I've always been.”

The weight of Mondatta's hands on their shoulders is almost paternal, pride shining in his face as he speaks that much louder than his previous words. “What the two of you have made together, let no one unmake. You may-”

Hanzo's patience flames out exactly then. He cups Jesse's jaw and pulls him down for a chaste, but very firm and knee-weakening kiss in front of everyone they know.

***

Genji stands up and rolls his shoulders, much like their judo instructor taught them to do as boys. Lena passes him an unopened bottle of champagne (the good kind, he owes Winston a hug) with a cheeky grin. Hanzo and Jesse's thank-you speech was cute and all, but he'll never let his brother get one up on him.

“Several years ago,” Genji begins, minding his feet as he steps outside the circle of guests around the fire pit. “I agreed to go shoot pool with some weirdo I met in our dear Doctor Ziegler's waiting room, with the sole intention of getting him to stop bothering me. Spoiler: It didn't work, but at least I got him to quit calling me Shimada-san.”

That nets a laugh and Genji smiles, warmed by the setting sun and the half-finished fourth mojito in his other hand. He doesn't often drink now, beginning to fret over what medicine and addiction have done to his liver, but he's been working harder than Cinderella's mice this week and getting lit once a year never killed anybody. “Jesse and I spent a lot of time together back then, mostly eating and binge-watching stupid TV shows on a streaming account belonging to someone who shall remain nameless.” He gestures with the neck of the bottle. “But on an unrelated note, Fareeha, you should really change your passwords once in a while.”

“Son of a bitch!” Fareeha shouts from across the fire, firing a chunk of cake at Jesse which he catches and promptly eats just to spite her.

“I came to consider Jesse a good friend, one of the first I'd had in some time.” Genji keeps an edge to his smile while the crowd softens. No need to bust that emotional nut too early. “Luckily we never slept together, or this would be really awkward.”

Another chorus of giggles and snorts, the first groan of distaste from Hanzo. Perfect. “Around this time, a wild brother of mine appeared.” Genji quickly dances past the smoke, not wanting to linger on a painful point by collapsing into a coughing fit. “And in accordance with his lifelong pattern of terrible taste, developed a big fat crush on one Jesse McCree.”

“Love ya too, asshole.” Jesse smacks him on the way by, but Genji keeps going. At this point, he might need the perpetual motion to stay upright and dignified. Hanzo's eyes are trained on him, but he's not done yet.

“But unbeknownst to him, Jesse had also caught feelings,” Genji takes a sip of his drink for a brief dramatic pause. “Despite the fact that my brother is a stuck-up grouch who sucked his thumb until he was twelve.”

A proper snarl of his name sets him cackling, though Jesse is kind enough to restrain and smooch Hanzo into submission. He pushes his glasses back up, realizes he isn't wearing them, and carries on. “Jesse's approach to this situation was to drive to the other side of town every day for terrible sandwiches and a chance to glimpse his beloved's perpetually exhausted visage. Hanzo's approach was to do absolutely nothing.”

More laughter, more Hanzo grumbles. “They did finally go on a date with no insignificant amount of prodding from yours truly, but since it's their special day, I won't congratulate myself too much. Except to say, you're welcome!”

That inspires some gentle jeering aimed at the two of them, Genji bouncing back on his heels and almost slipping, gesturing with both arms. “But truly, I never expected things to turn out this way; Hanzo marrying the guy who taught me how to roll joints specifically because doing it one-handed is a pain in the ass.”

A deeper groan at that one while the others laugh and shout. “Relax, Jesse, it's not like your entire family's here or anything!” He slows his wandering to one side of the fire to avoid further swipes, lifting the bottle to draw attention to his left hand. “Being married myself now, I get to incorrectly call myself an expert and assure you that it's totally great- no, honest! Hey, I'm not here for those ball-and-chain jokes, you've all seen my husband. He's literally right over there, look at him.”

Zenyatta has been watching him with that knowing 'I will save you from yourself if necessary' look this whole time, but his posture softens noticeably, his hand on his cheek as he sits curled up on their blanket. So goddamn cute, it isn't fair.

“You already know exactly how annoying you both are, so I won't bother reminding you.” Genji grins again, lifting one finger from the stem of his drink. “Though by the same token, don't say I never warned you!

“Thanks again for letting us use your matrimony as an excuse to throw a party, that was cool of you.” He pauses for a chorus of cheers and glasses clinking, the sun nearly gone now and their friends' movements reflected in flickering shadows. “I think I speak for all of us when I say I look forward to you two enjoying a long and happy life together, and bickering like old hens when the sex gets boring.”

Another loud groan from Hanzo. Zen mouths 'be nice' at him on his way by, but Genji can tell he doesn't mean it. “Just kidding, a Shimada's stamina never dies! Don't skip physio, McCree!”

More jeering, a request from his brother to be put out of his misery. He paces again, his cheeks buzzing with laughter. “Hanzo and Jesse specifically requested no gifts- but we all ignored that and put money in the cards, right?” A beat before a series of nods and sarcastic put-offs, eliciting some whinging from the couple. “Okay good, otherwise I'd want my five dollars back.”

The laughter rises again and he speaks again before it falls, slowing the groove he's wearing into Angela's lawn. “What these two nerds don't realize is that I'm taking home the biggest gift of all, and they gave it to me without even realizing. Can anyone guess what it is?”

A few shout over each other, making Genji knit his brows together. “You guys are gross.” He smiles then, holding up his glass in proper toast. “The truth is that I've spent more time worrying about both of you than I care to say. When you two finally got serious, I was so relieved. Partly because I no longer had to listen to Hanzo's bitching, and partly because I knew I didn't have to worry so much anymore.”

Hanzo's face is rather blurry at this distance, but he can see the change in it. The way his eyes get big and how his spine straightens up. Genji's smile stretches impossibly wider. “The rest of you can laugh at this part if you want- but I honestly can't tell you how grateful I am that I get to watch you become who you always deserved to be.”

He keeps his gaze over everyone's heads because if he makes eye contact with anyone right now, he might cry and he cries super gross. “And I never thought I'd say this, but I couldn't be happier to have a new big brother.” Genji tips his glass in their direction, giggling at the odd feeling of the words in his mouth. “Thanks for sticking around, Jesse. God knows we haven't made it easy for you.”

He doesn't let more than a couple “aw's” and fond chuckles escape before interrupting, shaking the bottle as hard as he possibly can. “And on that note, congratulations! Let's get this party-”

The cork pops off suddenly, hitting the metal gutter of the porch with a spectacular bang while those nearest to him shriek and dodge the spray of foam. “Oh, whoops.”

“Trying to break my windows, are we?” Angela appears at his side with eyebrow arched, yanking him down by the tie as the others scramble up, Lúcio dashing to the DJ station he'd set up beside the bar.

“Now how was I supposed to know it would do that?” Genji giggles, filling her empty glass with flat champagne and kissing her cheek. She seems appeased as they finish it themselves, good. He's ninety-nine percent sure she could suplex him without breaking a sweat.

Hanzo and Jesse had opted out of the first-dance business because “It's embarrassing and I don't want to,” blah blah. That means Lúcio cranks the beats right from the start, to which Genji is not at all opposed. He lets Angela spin and dip him before shaking and shimmying his way to Zenyatta's side, then bouncing from person to person across the rented dancefloor like a tipsy pachinko ball.

It's not a huge group, the younger half of the Lindholm children already back at the monastery for a monk-supervised sleepover. The older half put the trampoline through its paces while the adults make fools of themselves. But damn, if there isn't a perfect energy to the night, both excitable and intimate. Emily pours him another drink and he revels in it.

Zarya ends up stealing a table to arm-wrestle any willing participants, which include his husband, who lasts an entire minute before she puts him down. Twice as long as Genji last time, he's impressed.

“You are like bamboo branch!” Zarya declares, lifting Zen's lean arm by the wrist and affectionately slapping his bicep. “Lean, but surprisingly strong!”

Zenyatta flushes, looking adorably sheepish as Gabe, Jack, Ana, Mei, and Lena clap for him and wait their turn. Genji's just about to walk up and tease the hell out of him when he feels someone grip his shoulder from behind. It's Hanzo, frowning slightly, how entirely unexpected.

“What's-” Hanzo wraps his arms around him before he can finish, his face pressed against Genji's shoulder. He can't help but laugh, though the tight embrace constricts his ribs. “Aw, two hugs in one day? You do love me.”

“Shut up,” is Hanzo's only reply, because of course it is. His eyes are doing the sad puppy thing when he pulls back. He was sort of born looking sad, but it's still concerning. “My speech at your wedding wasn't nearly as good.”

“You know, you're right! Tell you what, I'll get married again so you can do it over. Will that make you feel better?”

Hanzo scowls at him. Ah, such a nostalgic sight. “Can you stop ruining the moment for ten seconds?”

Genji downs the last of his cocktail and snaps his fingers into a point. “Nope.”

Hanzo sighs, his brow pinched like he has a headache but his eyes remain gentle, shining in the glow of the string-light canopy. He toys with the cord of his obi. “I will pay you back for this if it's the last thing I do.”

“The hell you will,” Genji huffs. “You don't have to wear that damn thing all night, you know. I didn't.”

“I like it, it's comfortable.” Hanzo insists, having not removed so much as the haori despite the heat. He folds his arms across his chest, his eyes lowered, the many piercings he chose to leave in because they were 'more attractive than empty holes' glinting slightly. His voice is barely audible when he finally speaks. “There is much I admire in you, and much I can never repay you for.”

Genji's response is stolen by the approach of Jesse. Hair askew, jacket off, and a big stupid grin on his face. “C'mere, you shit.” He hauls Genji into a bear-hug as soon as he raises his arms for it, gladly accepting it in lieu of the ones he used to dodge.

He groans as his toes leave the ground. “Ugh yes, crush me so I can skip this hangover.”

“Not a chance.” Jesse laughs, dropping him and slinging his arm around Hanzo, bending to kiss his forehead. The way he acts around him still makes Genji shake his head in disbelief. All Velcro eyes and little sighs and darlin'-honey-sugarbean's. Unbelievable.

Even more surprising is the ease with which Hanzo turns into his touch, lifts his chin to hold his gaze, lets his arm be stroked as they speak. To see his big brother smile again, watch him do the things he wants, not what he feels he must or is ordered to do- it's worth the world to him.

As he's having that realization, a certain slow song comes on and Jesse gets excited, tugging Hanzo towards the dance floor. He looks back at Genji for permission, legitimately concerned about his brother feeling ditched. Genji can't help but grab his face, squishing his cheeks and planting a smacking kiss on his forehead. “Pft, you're so cute, anija! Go have fun!”

“Ugh, don't.” Hanzo recoils from him like an angry cat before Jesse laughs and hurries him along.

He giggles and leans against the wall of Angela's house, considering asking Lúcio to put on something loud and fast after this so he can do an ill-advised handstand or twerk towards Bastion or something. No meds plus rum certainly leaves him with lots of ideas.

Zenyatta rolls up beside him then, merely smiling and setting his brakes when Genji plops himself into his lap, perhaps ten percent too confident his presence is desired there. God, he looks and smells so good. Buttoned into one of those gauzy pastel tops he prefers, features ringed with thin gold jewellery, nails painted and eyes lined in deep blue. His hand is so soft against Genji's cheek. He's beautiful. “You're beautiful.”

“And you're very warm,” Zenyatta observes, reaching for the buttons of his black vest. “Let's get this off before you overheat.”

Genji chooses comedy over tenderness, striking a pose worthy of a soap opera. “Ooh, Mister Tekhartha, are you trying to undress me?”

“Oh, you are drunk.” Zen replies, an amused statement of fact rather than a question, fixing him with a cheeky, freckle-bunching smile once he helps him out of it. “Try not to let your lips write cheques your body can't cash this time, hm?”

“I said I was sorry, I got the spins!” Genji whines in his defence, but quickly abandons that in favour of sweetly kissing Zen. He fits so perfectly in Genji's arms when he cuddles up to him afterwards, nuzzling against his temple.

“Do you want to go dance, dear one?”

Genji looks back, catching a glimpse of Hanzo tucked under Jesse's chin, Jesse's cheek on his crown, their hands clasped. With his glasses back on, their smiles are easy to see even from here. They both look so- safe, is the only word he can come up with.

“In a minute,” he murmurs, turning to share another, slower kiss with his husband in the electric night air.

[spdtactics-a]

the great irene mom rankings!

i said i’d do these earlier so here we are with irene first! 

moms are ranked based on four things: their supports with frederick, the inheritance they pass down in-game and how it would change irene as an actual unit in game, hair colour, and the corresponding sibling + their dynamic.

 i’m doing these in order of recruitment, as well as including chrom and emmeryn. i went the extra mile and included icons for all the robinsexuals just for fun, which are included at the bottom. they won’t be rated, i just felt like completing all the potential moms(tm). 

i also edited the skin tones for the moms who are naturally darker skinned ( ...or should be ), then noticed i fucked it up a little and... honestly i’m too tired to go back and redo it, pls understand i’m sorry ;____;

frederick’s daughter. an enigmatic cavalier who aspires to be as great a knight as her father. the most afraid of fire.

robin.

supports: hmm... while i love frederick/mu, the in game supports themselves feel kind of weird making the jump from being platonic to romantic... but honestly, they work for me! i think it’s just the format they’re presented in that feels a bit jumpy and choppy? in any case robin helping frederick get over an aversion and better himself for it is very cute. i like it.

inheritance: obviously, the mu is the best parent for any child unit. robin would provide access to every class in the game, so long as it isn’t gender locked-- and heck even her growth rates would vary wildly depending on how you set robin’s. 

hair colour: i just used the default one here or else i’d have gone insane, but a lot of the custom colours did look really cute! i’m especially fond of the araceli-esque blue. :3c

sibling(s): she’d get morgan as a younger sibling... or two! which... could be a pretty fun dynamic. being morgan’s sibling would be the only instance in which irene is older.

overall: the most important thing to note about the mu is that every interpretation, default or custom, is wildly different. while this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it does make it kind of hard to pin down what irene’s life would have been like with robin as her mother (...or other father). that said, the mu’s disappearance would definitely have inspired her to keep going with her training as a knight. unaware of what truly happened to her missing parent, irene would hope to find them someday. again... this really does depend on the mu and their interpretation-- but all in all, a solid irene.

final rating: ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ ( 7 scales tipped out of 10 )

chrom.

supports: the supports in game are fucking hilarious, but i don’t know how i feel about them in a romantic context? 

inheritance: chrom’s lord class is non-inheritable, but at least irene would get aether and the (albeit unrealized) ability to wield falchion, if lucina’s sibling supports are anything to go off of! otherwise, the only new class irene would get out of the mix is archer, and i actually couldn’t find the village maiden!lucina stat modifiers for a reference... but chrom’s default growth rates are the highest in skill and speed, so i feel like him as her father would definitely influence that. as for the brand, it’s on the back of her neck!

hair colour: yknow i didn’t think i’d be crazy about lord blue(tm), but it looks really nice with brown eyes... also, irene wouldn’t have to rely on magic to disguise herself as lucina while acting as a decoy. :3c

sibling(s): i’ll admit i’m not the biggest lucina fan out there anymore after some... personal stuff, but i do think lucina would be a cute older sister for irene... if not a little intimidating. while irene would idolize her big sister, she would also often feel as though she’s left in lucina’s shadow... which wouldn’t help much with her self esteem-- hell, she’d feel as though she HAD to work as hard as she already does just to match up... and it could lead to extreme recklessness on irene’s part-- which is NOT something you’d want from a princess of the realm or a knight. 

overall: i love princess irene, but chrom isn’t exactly my first pick for her exalted parent-- mostly because of lucina and the very limited class pool irene would get as a result; she’s barred from lord and chrom’s only other class that doesn’t overlap is archer... like, oof? that said, i honestly do really love the idea of chrom BEING irene’s father. he’s just... such a good dad? he’d really, really help her unlearn a lot of the habits she drilled into herself to be a “model princess” and ideal knight just by... you know. being himself! being younger than lucina, irene’s memories of chrom aren’t as vivid, and honestly a little warped by her sister’s and other father’s perceptions... getting to know the real man would be. so good for her!!! tldr chrom could be a really great dad for irene, but... he has a few teensy things holding him back from being phenomenal. when it comes to royal irene i love papa chrom, but i do think uncle is a bit better.

final rating: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ ( 6 unpeeled oranges out of 10 )

lissa.

supports: they’re cute! they’re not my absolute favourites, but lissa getting to marry her first love is sweet. i just happen to prefer frederick and lissa with other people.

inheritance: i’ve always really liked the concept of pegasus knight and healer irene, and lissa provides both of those things with the cleric, troubadour, and pegknight lines! also galeforce. gotta love galeforce. while they’re classes that would take a bit of work for irene to really blossom in, from a character development standpoint i think they’re wonderful. like-- she doesn’t have to imitate frederick entirely to be just as good of a knight, she can incorporate things her mom taught her as well. like owain irene does have the brand surface as lissa’s daughter, and it’s still on the back of her neck.

hair colour: lissa’s blonde and emmeryn’s blonde are actually super close in colour! it’s nearly impossible to tell, but emmeryn’s is slightly more saturated. either way i prefer irene with darker hair colours, but the royal blonde is cute.

sibling(s): oh dear god i don’t think irene’s equipped to handle owain of all people as her older brother... she was a really shy little kid, and as much as she’d love owain i do feel like his energy would be........... overwhelming?????? for her? that said i think owain would also know when to dial things down for her sake... that said, irene would really admire owain and while not bold enough to take part in justice cabal shenanigans, she would support them from a distance! still, being lucina’s cousin is... hard.  

overall: i actually don’t have strong feelings on momther lissa one way or another! it’s a pairing i’m not overly invested in, but it’s one of those pairings i think would be cool in-game, if irene was an actual unit. it’d... just come at the cost of messing up owain imo. sooo yeah. it’s not awful, but there are definitely better pairings out there.

final rating: ★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆ ( 5 frog pranks out of 10 )

sully.

supports: i do like the tidbit that sully was training for knighthood at 15-- it makes the headcanon that ylisse was so desperate for recruits during the apocalypse they were knighting trainees that young a little more plausible, as my hc is that irene was knighted at the tender age of 15 for those exact reasons. that said, the supports themselves are kind of... meh. they felt perfect leaving off at a, the s-rank feels a bit “well we have to marry them off now so you can get the kid i guess” and shoehorned in than anything. 

inheritance: sully shares her base class with irene, but since frederick also has the wyvern rider class in his kit, the only new class offered to irene is myrmidon... which is kind of sad. myrm’s a great class, but OOF that class pool...

hair colour: sully’s red is the softest and dullest out of all the red haired gen 1s, and it’s nice on irene... but eh. there are nicer.

sibling(s): ... i just don’t like kjelle all that much. i don’t know why. i never really use her... i think it’s because she’s an armoured unit and eh, no thanks. i like the idea of irene and kjelle being friends, though... just not siblings.

overall: while having two knightly parents would make irene’s transition from shy, girly child to lady knight a lot easier, sully... is not a mom i’m a huge fan of for irene. her class pool is ridiculously limited, the family dynamic with kjelle isn’t one i’m a huge fan of... while i think irene would be inspired by and look up to sully, it’s hard to see her as irene’s mother. more like a mentor, if anything. you feel?

final rating: ★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆ ( 4 business swords out of 10 )

miriel.

supports: i’m actually doing this one in my current awakening run! while the supports are fun and i like them, i’m... not a huge fan of their ending and ‘miriel vanishing for weeks at a time’. like. uh. okay.......... cool........... i guess?? that said, they’re nicer than sully’s supports lmao.

inheritance: miriel flips irene’s entire concept on its head-- as frederick’s daughter, she’s a very physical based unit who doesn’t really... excel at magic. meanwhile, all of miriel’s classes are magic. a miriel!irene inherits the mage, dark mage, and troubadour lines-- while i think she’d struggle with anima, light, or dark magic, i always see irene as having a natural, innate talent for healing. she would make a decent war cleric! 

hair colour: miriel’s hair is one of my favourites in the game and irene pulls it off well! it’s that pretty, dark red...........

sibling(s): maybe i’m just biased and adore bp too much, but the entire reason i like miriel as irene’s mother is because of laurent! i think they’re a nice match as siblings. studious, observant, kind laurent and his little sister... they’d both take care of everyone else and it could probably be a little overbearing, but... it’d be really sweet. i love it. i also headcanon laurent to have been the one who used his magic to make irene’s hair blue whilst she pulled a frey and acted as a decoy in the bad future... the angst potential there is lovely. imagine realizing your little sister embarking on what’s basically a suicide mission really is the only way to slip past enemy lines to safety? and setting her up to do just that?  r i p laurent. but also please consider irene being a late bloomer to non-healing magic and her brother teaching her. it’s good shit! >:3c

overall: the main appeal of miriel to me is getting laurent as a brother, and the concept of a late-blooming magical irene. miriel’s and frederick’s supports are good but i’m not 100% sold on their ending, and there are just frederick pairings i like better.

final rating: ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ ( 7 mysteries of the universe solved out of 10 )

sumia.

supports: YES??? YES!!!!!! mu aside, frederick is my favourite sumia pairing! ... out of what’s available in game, anyways. sumia’s just so earnest and eager to help out as much as frederick does and he’s endeared by it and I’M endeared by it and they’re just so ridiculously SWEET it rots my teeth and yes pLEASE...

inheritance: sumia passes down pegasus knight, cleric, and knight-- once again giving me the option of f a l c o n  k n i g h t  i r e n e complete with galeforce. and i love me some f a l c o n  k n i g h t  i r e n e.

hair colour: it’s lighter and less saturated than her default fred brown, but sumia’s hair is very pretty on irene... i like it a lot! 

sibling(s): i know i said owain would probably be a little overwhelming to have as a brother, therefore it ought to be the same for cynthia... but i actually don’t see that being the case! before their parent’s deaths, cynthia was shy and soft and girly-- much like irene. i can see both sisters vowing to grow stronger and become knights of ylisse together-- they just have different ideas of what constitutes heroism. irene’s vision of a hero is more like their father’s: someone who’s always looking after everyone, even when it goes unnoticed-- and sometimes it works better when it’s unnoticed. cynthia is dazzling glamour and drama, ready to punish evildoers in the name of the moon with the coolest entrances and speeches ever. she keeps morale up with theatrics and works hard to be that shining light for everyone with them, where irene supports from the shadows. while she’d be adverse to acting out cynthia’s flights of fancy in the bad future, she... could be roped into trying in the past, and it would help her kick a lot of her reservation and shyness. cynthia and irene are good sisters and i love them!!!

overall: i love fredsumia in general, so sumia as irene’s mom is just so good to me already???? even without thinking about it too deeply, i can just look at sumia and be like ‘yeah, she could have a kid like irene.’ 

final rating: ★★★★★★★★★☆ ( 9 flower fortunes out of 10 )

maribelle.

supports: i actually really like frederick’s and maribelle’s supports. they’re hilarious and sweet and just-- yeah. i like maribelle being willing to learn menial tasks to better instruct her own servants and just... yeah!!! it’s cute!!! i like maribelle/fred!

inheritance: maribelle gives irene a lot of the classes lissa does-- troubadour, pegasus knight... then mage. anything that can give me galeforce falcon knight irene is a good time!! it’s a shame brady could do better for a father...

hair colour: god maribelle’s hair is bright... but it looks cute with the brown eyes!

sibling(s): oh my god brady and irene would be really cute as brother and sister... they’re both soft kids(tm) and the narrative of irene having to work really, really hard to become a knight lends itself well to her being a duchess’ daughter!! i also have a hc that irene used to hang out in whatever ‘medical bay’ brady cobbled together after his scare with that guy who became a risen mid-healing, to both have an excuse to avoid any burning of bodies and protect brady from another incident... look they’re just. cute.

overall: while it does sacrifice some of brady’s potential, irene being maribelle’s daughter is solid and interesting!! fred’s and maribelle’s supports are genuinely good, irene’s backstory lines up well with maribelle being her mom, brady’s a great brother, and gameplay wise she gets good class options! maribelle? solid choice!!!

final rating: ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ ( 7 parasols out of 10 )

panne.

supports: these are actually supports i quite like! frederick learning new things and overcoming fears are always a joy to see, and seeing a more relaxed side of panne is really cute... they’re good!! 

inheritance: panne gives irene a unique class in taguel, as well as thief and wyvern rider! while she’d have to be very careful of anti-beast weapons, the thought of irene with the bunny ears is... cute...

hair colour: dark colours really do suit irene; i just wish i had the patience to edit taguel ears onto that icon... because she’d definitely have them.

sibling(s): mmmm yarne’s another kid i’m not huge on, and i do feel like they’d clash as siblings... while yarne is self preserving to a fault, understanding the weight of his (and irene’s) legacies as the literal last two taguel in the world, irene throws herself into danger regularly as a knight without any regard for her own safety. there would... probably be arguments about it. i dunno, yarne just... also doesn’t work as fred’s kid imo?? it could just be personal preference...

overall: taguel irene!!! taguel irene!!! while i love panne’s and fred’s supports and the concept, the family dynamic with yarne just... doesn’t... click very well for me? they really do feel like they’d be at each other’s throats a lot over clashing ideologies, and mmmm it would be fun for character development, but... i dunno. i’m just not feeling it as something to write?

final rating: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ ( 6 carrots out of 10 )

cordelia.

supports: NO!!! cordelia’s supports with frederick are some of my least favourites in the game!!! i blame the mention of c h r o m and how it is in-context. it’s like frederick’s just... settling for being second best, even if cordelia claims she’s giving up on chrom, then considering severa’s recruitment dialogue... mmmmmm. i don’t... like that... they both deserve better...

inheritance: cordelia’s fun in that between all of her class lines -- pegasus knight, mercenary, dark mage -- she can use every single weapon in the game. this trait passes on to both irene and severa, and irene does get some nice options to play around with 

hair colour: the fiery red is nice, actually, but it’s a little TOO vivid to suit irene...

sibling(s): i feel like severa’s bold and abrasive nature would either extend to her little sister or she’d be an overly smothering big sister to overcompensate for perfect mom cordelia’s absence. there’d be no in between, and shy, meek irene would... suffocate from it. they’d work better as friends than siblings.

overall: while this would be a nice pairing in a playthrough WITHOUT ruining severa in the process, i don’t like it much in context. the supports are some of my least favourites, severa isn’t a good fit for irene’s sibling, and i... just like both units with other people! 

final rating: ★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ ( 2 unrequited crushes out of 10 )

nowi.

supports: okay, the supports themselves are nice. they’re a sweet concept-- nowi wanting to make sure frederick receives recognition for all his hard work, despite him being content just... helping from the shadows. that said i still... can’t get past the whole nowi looking like a child thing. i know she’s over 1000 years old but it still feels super awkward to me? then again that’s a nowi complaint in general... so... rip nowi i really do love you i swear--

inheritance: manakete irene!!! manakete!!! irene!!! nowi also gives mage and wyvern rider, as well as decent magic growths-- late bloomer magical dark knight irene is fun, but... manakete irene

hair colour: nowi’s green is pretty wild, but i think that with the long ears it’d be cute!!

sibling(s): nah and irene would prooobably make cute siblings, but i don’t think nah’s backstory gels well with irene’s. in nah’s, both of her parents died when she was an infant. i hc frederick was among the last to die. something has to be altered pretty radically for this to fit, or else fred just up and ditched his kids, and... no. 

overall: honestly this would be one of my favourites if not for the massive edits to irene’s overall concept and the nowi problem(tm). manakete irene is a really fun concept, fred’s and nowi’s supports are really cute tbh and their ending is sweet, i feel like nowi’s light-heartedness and maturity underneath it all are something that would be really good for irene, but... the amount of editing needed to make it work kinda ruins the idea for me.

final rating: ★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆ ( 4 dragonstones out of 10 )

tharja.

supports: they’re... hm. they’re... interesting? see tharja’s supports are like how i view cordelia’s: the less mentions of robin ( and chrom in cordelia’s case ), the better. tharja talks about robin a lot in the c-a ones, but thankfully there’s no mention of them in the s. so that’s points in tharja’s favour! they’re not bad, but i do think i like tharja and frederick with other people.

inheritance: tharja passes down dark mage and archer, then knight overlaps with irene’s classes inherited from frederick. magical irene is once again on the table, but given the nature of future!tharja, i feel like irene would be horribly scared of or at least averse to dark magic and against trying it for herself. 

hair colour: dark hair colours always look good on irene... though grabbing it off tharja’s sprite was weird, because the sprite makes it look more brown than black. oh well.

sibling(s): while fred/tharja isn’t terrible, ohhhhh boy the implications it has for irene’s childhood isn’t fun. she and noire sound like good sisters, but... once frederick dies tharja snaps hard, and begins using noire as a guinea pig. given i hc frederick as one of the last to die, either irene is already knighted and in a horrible position to get noire out of that situation until their mother dies too, or frederick dies earlier and she ends up trapped in the abuse too. it’s just... a very sad situation and i can’t... i feel really bad putting irene in either of them. either she chases frederick and knighthood and unintentionally abandons noire, or she has to suffer future!tharja.

overall: despite the iffy future!tharja situation, i do think that the interactions with past!tharja and noire would make for really interesting character development. and you all know i am HERE for character development! frederick’s supports with tharja aren’t bad ones, but they’re not necessarily my favourites either. dunno, just... not huge on this one, but i don’t hate it!

final rating: ★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆ ( 5 hexes out of 10 )

olivia.

supports: this one was........... weird. like, it shows fred’s overbearingness extends to everyone when he’s trying to lend a hand and it’s really cute, but... mmmmmmmmmm i really don’t know. i like olivia with other people more and her supports can be kind of hit or miss as it is for me, even when i like the pairing. 

inheritance: olivia doesn’t give dancer, what even is the point-- no, but irene could inherit myrmidon, pegasus knight, and since dancer is exclusive to olivia, mercenary! if you want g a l e f o r c e  f a l c o n  k n i g h t  irene, it’s a good choice! 

hair colour: irene with olivia’s pink is cute, but i like darker tones on her, personally...

sibling(s): irene being inigo’s younger sister could be fun? they’re both shy characters and deal with it in different ways-- irene threw herself into training, inigo followed the ‘talk to girls’ advice. i can see them lowkey clashing over that, but still being close? it sets up for really fun shenanigans in fates too, as irene and corbett go to fateslandia on their own and settle in hoshido, meanwhile inigo’s summoned there by anankos and ends up in nohr... on a less potentially tragic note, irene being soleil’s aunt is cute. 

overall: this is another pairing i like more for the sibling than the parents, but it’s still a solid one! the supports are kind of weird to me, but then again as much as i love olivia her supports are... mmmmm. irene gets great classes out of the deal, as well as the coveted galeforce, and inigo is a fun brother. all in all, it’s one of the better ones! 

final rating: ★★★★★★★☆☆☆   ( 7 dances out of 10 )

cherche.

supports: these are my absolute favourites, with sumia’s supports being just sliiiiightly behind them. i just love how highly frederick and cherche hold each other in high esteem from day one? they learn from each other, they snark about virion in private together, and their ending and their “famously disarming smiles” is so good??? power. couple. 

inheritance: cherche passes down wyvern rider, cleric, and troubadour. healer irene is back in play, which i love!! she wouldn’t get minerva as a wyvern rider because gerome already has her, but it’s Fine.

hair colour: mmm, it looks so cute on her! i love cherche’s pink...

sibling(s): the contrast between brooding, distant gerome and gentle, shy irene is really fun to me! i feel like they’d be super close as kids but get along less as they grew older, but that also opens the doors for that sweet, sweet character development and reconciliation. and if you know anything about me, i live for character development.

overall: cherche is irene’s default mom for a reason. frederick’s and cherche’s supports are my favouites for them both, she lends really well to the idea of irene being less talented with offensive magic but having a hidden talent for healing, and her hair colour is pink-- but still that nice darker tone that i like on her. gerome is... a bit of a piece of work, but they contrast in an interesting way and the development that comes with reconciliation is appealing! so yeah! i love!!! cherche!irene! 

final rating: ★★★★★★★★★★ ( 10 snacks for minerva out of 10 )

emmeryn.

supports: they, uh... don’t have any. the draw for fredemm in general is that he’s a knight and she’s the exalt, and i mean... it’s really a sweet concept! i do prefer emm/phila and frederick with other people, but it is an emmeryn ship i still really like! it does require some shifting things around on irene’s part as she’d now have to be older than all of the children to even exist in the bad timeline, but... eh. details.

inheritance: emm’s classes are the same ones as lissa’s, so see her section! as always with princess irene, the brand is on the back of her neck.

hair colour: it looks really close to lissa’s, but it’s just a little more saturated...

sibling(s): not counting emmeryn fankids, irene would be an only child. i guess that means she would treat lucina, her sibling, and owain like siblings of her own! that said, she would still undergo the lucina problem-- being related to falchion’s bearer and unable to wield it herself  despite being a member of the exalted bloodline does a number on irene’s confidence and self image as a princess. now that i’m thinking about it, what if princess irene got geirskogul...

overall: if i’m doing princess irene, emmeryn is my favourite of the ylissean royal sibs to be her other parent. everything is a little more hc based and shifts around a bit based off portrayals and whatnot, but i really like exalted irene so it’s worth it!!  

final rating: ★★★★★★★★☆☆ ( 8 miracles out of 10 )

just for fun...

anna.

aversa.

flavia.

say’ri.

tiki.

[everything-jeronica-blog]

Summary:

He might have forgotten everything else but he’ll never forget her.

---

Jughead remembers.

Most people don’t, but Jughead does. Snippets of lives past, dreams of different worlds. They come to him in dreams, in moments when his surroundings blur and fade into the past, or in sudden, brief remembrances. Sometimes he’ll be reading a book when he remembers watching the queen release pigeons in the courtyard of a Mughal palace. He dreams of tying so many threads on a machine that his fingers bleed in turn of the century England. Once, he’s sitting in a cafe when everything goes blurry, and with each blink he uses to clear his eyes, things change. The metal tables turn into wooden benches; the sofa in the center becomes a marble fountain. Instead of jeans and t-shirts, the people wear robes and turbans. For a moment, just a moment, he’s a server in an Ottoman coffeehouse.

He loses time and focus during these moments. It’s easy to forget who he is when he’s been everything. He even catches a thought one day of a solitary life spent standing at the riverbank as a tree. So brief are his recollections that they feel more like dreams than past lives, and he rarely catches any concrete details. In the beginning, he only had dreams; his parents dismissed them, pegged them on an active imagination. When the hallucinations started, they took him to a psychiatrist. Since then, he has learned to keep his mouth shut and understand that most people don’t know what it feels like to have the weight of a thousand lives on your shoulders.

Layers upon layers of lives are stacked in his mind, and like a color coded file cabinet he keeps them organized with what he has of each. It took him a while to figure out how to keep things straight, and now it’s become a practice of meditation. The life as a tree is green; the coffeehouse is a deep, chocolate brown. One life is red because he only remembers a searing fire and the scent of burning flesh.

Rarely, he recalls details with an alarming strength. He remembers being a potter once, so clearly that even now he has a knack for the art. He had a twin in another life. Dylan, with brown hair and an infectious smile, who died at seventeen of a fever that left him shaking and crying from visions. That was eight centuries ago, but he still wakes up some days with an ache in his chest at the thought of him.

And three lifetimes ago, Jughead remembers falling in love.

Nothing else from that particular life remains. Not where he lived or his name or what he did. But she remains. Her laugh, sweet and bubbling. Her eyes, sparkling, that crinkled when she smiled. And the feeling of being in love—he can’t forget that. Like he’s floating, like anything is possible. Like his entire being depends on someone who matters much more than himself. It’s the best feeling, and the worst.

He might have forgotten everything else but he’ll never forget her.

Archie cards his hands through his hair with a frustration not bred of anger. Sunlight filters through the window to bathe him in a soft glow and turn the ends of his hair copper. “She’s fucking perfect,” he says, a look of wonder in his eyes and an awed, surprised sort of smile tugging at his lips.

Jughead knows what love looks like.

“Oh, yeah?” Jughead answers, fondly.

“Yeah,” Archie breathes, eyes drifting shut. “She’s—I can’t explain it. I’ve never met anyone like her in my life.”

“I know. Never seen you this damn whipped,” but he’s only teasing.

“Shut up,” Archie laughs.

“So when are you gonna ask her out, huh?”

“Tomorrow. After practice,” nervousness is etched into the lines of his forehead. “She’s a cheerleader, I told you that, right? We always get done at the same time.”

“Take her somewhere nice, not those shitty places you’re always at.”

“I’m gonna take her to the nicest place I know.”

“You really are whipped.”

“Fuck,” he mumbles. “What if she says no, Jughead, what if I weird her out or—”

“You’ve never been this afraid of people turning you down before.”

“That’s cause no one’s ever mattered before.”

Jughead has known Archie since they were young enough to think girls had cooties, and he has never been much into the idea of relationships. He’s a hit with girls, but anything beyond casual sex has never interested him. Never once has Jughead seen Archie so hung up over anyone. Never once has he seen Archie nervous.

“You ever been in love, Jug?”

He answers thoughtlessly. “Yes.”

Archie’s brows raise. He mustn’t have realized what he was asking, because Archie knows very well that Jughead has never fallen for anyone seriously. But Archie doesn’t question him, perhaps registering the way Jughead’s face closes off.

For a moment Archie waits, and then he says, “It’s the best feeling. And the worst.”

Jughead smiles. He’s thought that countless times. “Bring her over if you’re so serious, yeah? I wanna see how amazing she is in person.”

“You won’t be disappointed.” Archie laughs breathlessly. “She’s perfect.”

“You mentioned.”

“Hey, I’m serious.”

“I know. I get it.”

If anyone gets it, he gets it.

—

Every year on the anniversary of Dylan’s death, Jughead travels back to a forgotten field near Riverdale that was once home to a quiet village. The village is long gone, as are its inhabitants, but when he nears the town, the memories start to flit in and out of his mind. Most of them are of Dylan. Time has swallowed up all markers of his grave, but Jughead remembers. If someone were to ask where he was going he would have no answer, yet his feet carry him to the field where he and his family buried Dylan with surety.

There he cleans sticks and leaves from the ground. Though he is no longer religious, he prays, because Dylan is of a different time, and when he is with him, so is he. He sits and collects his thoughts, has burger in the town, and then he leaves.

Instead of going straight home when he returns to New York, he stops by Cheryl and Toni’s apartment. It’s one of those days where the past is overwhelming and his fragile hold on himself wavers. Caught between what was and what is, Jughead feels lost. So he seeks comfort with Toni, the only other person who remembers.

Toni has a better sense of her lives than Jughead does. Not only does she remember more, her approach toward her past is more clinical. She has learned to separate herself from her memories and focus only on the present. They first met five lifetimes ago when she lived in his village. He has known her, and Cheryl by default, in every lifetime since. Cheryl and Toni have one of those loves that lasts through every life—soulmates, some people would call them.

Toni has a mug of hot cocoa already waiting for him when he gets there. He always feels at home in their apartment, cute and cozy and littered with knickknacks. She pats the sofa next to her, tossing a knitted blanket covered in cats onto his lap.

“You don’t look so good,” she says.

He leans his head back and closes his eyes. “It’s like I’m caught in this never ending state of nostalgia.” A longing ache for time that will never return. Every minute that passes feels like losing something when he is so aware of how the present will turn into memories.

“Dylan died eight hundred years ago and you still visit his grave. You’re making yourself nostalgic.”

“I can’t help that some memories are so strong.”

“You’ve got to separate yourself. How will you look forward when you’re always looking back?”

“You think I don’t know that?” He already finds it hard enough to focus on the present. He doesn’t know how to center himself when the memories of the past tell him everything he does now won’t matter at all in the next life.

“I think you’re not trying hard enough.” Jughead glances away, frowning, and Toni takes his hand. “You’re only going to end up hurting yourself.”

—

Jughead meets her a week later.

They stop by on their way to their date because Archie, in his nervousness, forgets his wallet. Jughead steps out of his room at the sound of voices to find her, hovering by the door until Archie beckons her inside. She’s dressed to kill. That’s what Jughead notices first. A black dress that looks extremely expensive, high heels, and a pearl necklace to top it off. Jughead starts to smile, ready to crack a joke about how Archie possibly caught a girl like this when all he ever wears are t-shirts and jeans, when he looks, really looks, at the stranger in their apartment.

The empty glass of coffee in Jughead’s hands falls.

He doesn’t even move to catch it. He’s too busy taking in the wide smile and brown eyes. He knows those eyes. He’s dreamed about them for three lifetimes.

“This is Veronica,” Archie says, but Jughead hardly hears him. There’s a roaring, rushing noise in his ears. His head feels light. “Veronica, this is Jughead. He breaks three glasses a day.”

Veronica. This time her name’s Veronica. Veronica smiles in greeting and Jughead returns it automatically, distractedly. Archie’s voice has brought him back to his senses. He picks up the mug, thankfully unbroken, and places it on the counter with shaking hands.

Archie’s in love. He has been talking about Veronica, perfect Veronica Lodge, for weeks. Jughead has never seen him so in love before, never seen him in love at all, really, never seen him give anyone more than a few nights. But this girl standing in front of him is no stranger to Jughead. He’s been waiting for her for so long he barely remembers what it’s like to have the empty space inside him filled.

“You go to NYU, too, right?” Veronica is saying, her voice distant to Jughead’s ears. He finds himself nodding. Veronica’s voice is light, airy; Jughead wants to hear her sing. “What are you majoring in?”

“Writing.” He’s not even sure how he’s speaking. He just keeps staring, fixated on Veronica’s face and the eyes he has only ever seen in his dreams.

Veronica stares back, tilting her head like a curious puppy before she says, “You look familiar.”

Jughead can’t breathe.

“Got it,” Archie emerges from his room, waving his wallet triumphantly. “You guys getting along?” His arm slips around Veronica’s waist so easily.

Jughead feels sick.

“I’ve gotta go,” he mumbles, and rushes to the door without looking back.

He doesn’t know where he’s going. The way passes in a haze. Maybe it isn’t her, he thinks, maybe he just wants it to be. He’s been thinking about her so much lately that his mind is playing tricks, confusing coincidence for reality.

They say you can see a person’s soul through their eyes. Through lifetimes where appearances change completely, Jughead recognizes people by their eyes—because their bodies might change, but their souls remain the same. That’s how he recognized Toni and one of his teachers, who was his neighbor in his last life.  

And that’s how he knows Veronica. He may play at doubt to comfort himself, but in his heart the truth is undeniable. Veronica is the one he’s been looking for.

And if she is, then it’s over. Jughead will never have her again. He tries to tell himself he’s being dramatic—it’s just a date, after all, not as if they’re getting married. They might decide they aren’t for each other, and then Jughead can get to know Veronica and—he stops himself there. It’s silly, and it’s selfish. How can he wish for his best friend’s relationship not to work out, especially when he knows how much Archie cares? Were it any other time, Jughead would have no problem fessing up to Archie and asking him to back off because Archie is never invested in the people he brings home. But this time it’s different. This time Archie is in love.

And Jughead can’t get in the way of that.

—

“So.” Veronica clears her throat awkwardly. She stands across the kitchen counter from Jughead while Archie makes coffee.

Three weeks have passed since their first date, and Jughead has been avoiding Veronica like the plague. He cancels plans with Archie if he knows Veronica is involved and comes home so late he starts to feel sick from lack of sleep. It’s another matter that he can’t sleep even when he tries, because when he does he dreams about Veronica and wakes up feeling sick from guilt instead. It doesn’t help that, for some strange reason, Archie and Veronica really want them all to hang out together. So far he’s managed to avoid that—at least until now, when he made the mistake of coming home between classes to find them already there.

“How are classes going?” Veronica offers.

“Fine,” he fiddles with his phone, pretending he doesn’t see Veronica’s face fall.

“Jughead’s been working on this big assignment for his class,” Archie says, placing their coffee mugs in front of them. “He’s in the library all night, basically.”

“That’s rough. I get like that when I’ve got an assignment coming up, too.”

Archie is a naturally touchy person, and with Veronica he’s even worse. So when he comes to stand by her, he wraps his arm around Veronica’s waist immediately. “When do you find out the dates for the next one, anyway?”

“Next week,” she takes a sip of coffee and smiles up at Archie. “It’s good.”

Archie swoops down and kisses Veronica’s cheek. Veronica flushes immediately, shooting a glance at Jughead. Jughead’s stomach rolls. Archie asks Veronica something. Jughead isn’t listening; he’s too busy tracking the way the red spreads down to Veronica’s collarbones. In the middle of Veronica’s answer Archie kisses her nose. Veronica pushes him away halfheartedly with a hand to his chest; Archie takes the hand and intertwines their fingers.

“You guys are gross,” Jughead says, trying for a lighthearted tone. He pours his coffee into a to-go cup. “I gotta go. Don’t fuck on the couch.”

He walks out the door to Veronica’s objections and Archie’s no promises!

Jughead was seven when his parents first took him to the psychiatrist for his hallucinations. The news spread around school pretty quickly. Teachers whispered about it with each other until students overheard and convoluted the story.

I heard he’s crazy.

Don’t crazy people always turn into serial killers or something?

He ate lunch alone every day and spent recess hiding from the older boys who thought it was funny to trip him and watch his beanie go flying. Even now he remembers clearly Archie’s smile the first day he sat next to him at lunch. Wanna play video games after school? For a long time, Archie was his only friend.

He was sixteen when his dad went to prison and he was basically homeless. For three months he stayed with Archie, where he was treated like family, until Jughead’s mom finally brought him home.

A friend like Archie doesn’t come around every lifetime. Jughead won’t let him go for anything.

It’s just his luck that he runs into Veronica again that evening, coming out of a classroom. Veronica waves, calling, “Jughead!”

Jughead nods and keeps on walking, even when Veronica starts to talk. “Gotta go.”

He feels guilty as soon as he turns his back on Veronica, but it’s better this way, he reasons. Keep his distance and it won’t hurt so much. But his plan backfires, because when he gets home that night Archie is waiting for him.

“Hey. Why are you being such an asshole to Veronica?”

The guilt weighs him down. His shoulders slump, “I’m not—I—”

“She thinks you hate her or something.” Archie hesitates. “It kind of seems like you do.”

“It’s nothing like that. I’ve just—the writing for my class is kicking my ass and I haven’t been sleeping all that well and—I’m tired. That’s all.” When Archie doesn’t answer, he adds, “I’m sorry if I’ve come off that way. I’ll make it up to her.”

Finally, Archie nods. “I figured you were just stressed.”

Jughead is working in one of the school’s empty class a few nights later when someone knocks softly on the door. He calls for them to enter, and when Veronica steps just inside the doorway, Jughead is so surprised he fumbles the pencil he holds.

“Am I bothering you?” Veronica says, a plastic bag clutched tightly in both hands.

“Uh—no—I mean, of course not.”

“Archie said you’ve been staying in here really late these days and he’s worried that you aren’t eating and I just got back from the library and I figured you still were too so I thought I’d bring you some food and—I hope I’m not bothering you,” she finishes her explanation lamely, glancing at him.

Jughead pats the empty chair beside him and tries to look less intimidating. “I was really hungry. Thanks, Veronica.”

After that he makes an effort to avoid her less, and Veronica jumps on the encouragement. She texts him cute stickers, finds him at school, wanders into his room to talk when she’s over. A day comes when Veronica stops by the apartment while Archie is at work.

“Archie’s not here.”

“I came to see you,” Veronica says, cheerful and woefully ignorant.

Veronica becomes a permanent fixture in Jughead’s life. She comes over for dinner, joins them at the gym, brings them snacks when they’re stuck at school. Jughead feels like an awkward third wheel around them, but for some reason they like having him around.

He hates being around.

Sometimes watching them makes Jughead sick to his stomach from want. He would give anything to have what they have. He would give anything to hold Veronica without a care, just to look at her without worrying about being obvious. And once Veronica starts to consider them friends, it becomes even more difficult to hide. The first time Veronica calls him Juggie he wants to curl up into a ball and disappear because it’s too hard, living like this.

It doesn’t help that Veronica really is fucking perfect. Sure, she looks in the mirror too much and can be snobby at times, but she’s thoughtful and hardworking and kind of selfless and Jughead starts to realize that the memory of love cannot hold a candle to the feeling of really being in love.

Because he falls in love with Veronica more and more every day. With the laugh she flings her entire body into, eyes squeezed shut. With the hardworking nature that traps her in the library even later than Jughead. And with her kindness, how she’s always looking out for everyone but herself.

Before, Jughead loved a memory; now, he loves Veronica. He finds it makes things so much harder.

—

He comes home late one night to an extra pair of shoes by the door giving away Veronica’s presence. The living room and kitchen are empty, so he tiptoes to his room in the hopes of avoiding her. But as he passes Archie’s room, he hears it—a soft moan, too high to be Archie’s. Jughead flushes, stumbling. It’s followed by another one, longer, more wrecked. His body heats up so fast he starts to sweat. He has a sick, desperate wish to stay and listen, to hate himself because he’s not the one causing Veronica to make those sounds. For a brief, helpless moment he wonders—would he be able to steal Veronica away if he tried?

He runs. Forgets his coat. Shoves his shoes on and doesn’t tie the laces. Down the stairs, down the street, he doesn’t care where. He ends up at a bar, where he sits in a corner of the room and orders too many bottles of beer. He drinks to forget but instead he can’t stop thinking about it. Can’t stop thinking about who Veronica would choose if it came down to it, if he tried and if he succeeded and he knows Veronica thinks he’s attractive, he knows it. Maybe she would leave Archie for Jughead if she knew how Jughead felt.

He drinks until he’s crying, slamming his fist into the table. “I’m such a fucking asshole, such a fucking asshole,” he says it, over and over and over again to chase away his cruel thoughts until someone’s wrapping their arms around him and saying his name.

He wakes up in Toni and Cheryl’s apartment and doesn’t remember how he got there. They’re both tiptoeing around him like he’s fragile and he hates it.

“Jughead, you’ve got to get yourself together,” Toni says. He doesn’t look up. “Jughead.” She reaches across the counter and takes his face between her hands, forcing him to look at her. “We may be born again, but we are not impermanent. Don’t let your past lives interfere with this one.”

Veronica is, thankfully, gone when he returns. Archie’s face melts into one of worry when he sees the state Jughead’s in.

“Hey, are you okay?”

His kindness makes Jughead feel worse. He doesn’t deserve it. He brushes him off and locks his door and curls up under his covers. Night falls; he dresses well, fixes his hair, and leaves.

Jughead kisses a stranger in a club and goes home with her, seeking comfort in the arms of another, but he leaves emptier than before. So the next night he goes back and gets in a fight instead. This time he really does find solace in the crack of a fist against his jaw, in blurring vision and the taste of blood. Each blow he receives feels like retribution, every blow given like salvation.

By the time they get kicked out and the other man scurries off after spitting at Jughead’s feet, Jughead is already worse for wear. He can’t go home and face Archie looking like this; he definitely can’t go to Toni. Somehow he chooses the worst option of all—he stumbles into the library of their university, walking past empty tables, looking for someone he knows will be there even though it’s too late to be stuck at school.

He finds Veronica in the middle of writing her assignment, glasses on and face scrunched up in concentration. She looks up and Veronica sees him, her eyes widen. She rushes to Jughead with an exclamation.

“What happened to you?” she reaches as if to touch Jughead’s face but draws back last minute. “You got in a fight.” Her tone is slightly accusatory.

“Not on purpose,” he lies, fishing for Veronica’s sympathy.

“Should I call Archie?” Veronica pushes Jughead inside, sitting him on the cold floor, her gaze traveling over the cuts and bruises on his face.

“Don’t call Archie,” he says quickly. “I don’t want to worry him.”

“There’s a first aid kit in here, hold on,” she rummages through the supply closet and comes out with a box.

Jughead shouldn’t be here. It’s not too late to leave. But he lets Veronica clean the cut on his lip with an alcohol swab and dab ointment on his bruises, frowning in concern. Jughead can’t look away from her. The upset curve of her lips, her furrowed brow. He knows it’s making Veronica uncomfortable, can see it in her eyes.

“What?” Veronica finally asks.

“Nothing.” He closes his eyes but Veronica is burned onto the backs of his eyelids. “I’m sorry.”

“You know,” Veronica says quietly, “You really do look familiar. Think we’ve met before?”

Jughead laughs. It breaks off in a strangled noise.

Veronica takes it for physical pain. “You should go home and rest.”

“I don’t want to go home.”

Something in his tone must alert Veronica to a greater problem because she reaches out and brushes strands of hair from Jughead’s forehead. “Tell me what’s wrong, Jug.”

It’s so hard to resist when she speaks with such sweetness. Jughead wishes he could tell her about how he’s lost and hopeless and half of it is because of her, but he can’t, so he just smiles. “I’ll be fine, Ronnie.”

He does go home, eventually. Archie is already asleep, but he sees the state of Jughead’s face in the morning. Jughead tells him he got in a fight and that should be all; they’ve both gotten in plenty of drunken fights before. But Archie knows Jughead. He knows it’s not just a fight. And when Jughead shrugs him off, he yells, what the fuck’s wrong with you these days, huh?

He spends most of the day smoking on a bench outside the university, too weary to attend classes but unwilling to face Archie. Archie isn’t home when he gets back that night.                                

His ceiling holds no answers but Jughead stares at it anyway until minutes turn into hours and sleep remains elusive. It’s much nearer to dawn than it should be when Archie peeks into his room, quiet and hesitant.

“Jug? Are you awake?”

“Yeah.”

Archie slips into the covers next to him. The bed is too small for the both of them, and they shift and bump into each other until they settle, Archie’s nose pressed into his shoulder and his arm flung across Jughead’s waist.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Jughead asks.

“Nah.”

Silence settles over them, a comforting weight. Jughead knows Archie worries about him but can’t find the words to ask him what’s wrong. Unlike Archie, Jughead has never been good at expressing his feelings, and Archie understands that.

Enough time passes that Jughead starts to think Archie has fallen asleep when he speaks. “Remember when we were thirteen and tried to sneak into that club?.”

Jughead smiles. “Remember how the bouncer who caught us tried to lecture us about the importance of school?”

“And you started debating it so I kicked him in the shin and ran.”

“You almost got us killed, asshole.”

“We made it out, didn’t we?”

“Barely.” Jughead laughs a little. Sometimes he gets so caught up in the memories of past lives that he forgets about this one. “Man, we had a lot of dreams back then.”

“We still do.”

“Only I’m not naïve enough to think they’ll come true anymore.”

Archie sits up abruptly, nearly elbowing Jughead in the face. “Don’t say that.”

“We’ll never really get what we want.”

“Yes, we will. I know we will. Look at you, Jughead, you’re one of the best writers in the university. If you’re not going places no one is.”

Jughead snorts quietly. “Thanks.”

“Is that why you’ve been so down?” Even though he can’t see Archie’s face in the dark, Jughead can picture his troubled expression perfectly. The crease between his furrowed brows, the stubborn set of his mouth.

“You know that story I’ve been working on all semester? I failed the assignment. Professor said it wasn’t genuine.”

“Everyone fails assignments. That doesn’t mean shit.”

“It must mean something.”

“It means you try something different next time. You try harder. Anyway, art is subjective, grades are bullshit.”

“Thanks, Mr. Nonconformist.”

“I mean it.”

He passes a hand over his face, ashamed of the way his voice trembles when he answers. “Sometimes I feel like everything is hopeless. Every effort I make leads to nothing.”

“I know.” Archie settles back down beside him. “Sometimes I feel like that, too.”

“What’s the point of trying if you’ll never get what you want?”

“Well. Sometimes what you want isn’t what you need, you know? Maybe you won’t get what you want, you’ll get something better. Or maybe what you want will come around later, in a way you weren’t expecting. Just because it’s not working out now doesn’t mean it never will.”

Jughead feels like the biggest piece of shit in the world because he’s lying next to Archie thinking about Veronica. I’m sorry. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

—

Jughead is very well aware of the truth of the phrase “nothing lasts forever.” So when Veronica announces she’s leaving, Jughead thinks it must have been inevitable.

Archie comes home one night, crying. Veronica’s managed to get a scholarship abroad. So she’s transferring from their university. I don’t do long distance relationships, she tells Archie. We can make it work, Archie says, but Veronica is adamant. And Jughead thinks a part of Archie knows it’s better this way, too, because neither of them is ready for such commitment.

So even though it hurts, Archie lets go.

Jughead is too caught up comforting Archie to dwell on how he feels himself. The news doesn’t quite hit him until Veronica knocks on the door two days before she leaves.

“Archie isn’t here,” Jughead says automatically.

“I came to see you. To say goodbye,” she rubs the back of her head. Her face is drawn, dark circles prominent beneath her tired eyes. She may have been the one set on breaking up, but Jughead thinks Veronica might be taking this harder than anyone.

“Come in.”

“No, it’s okay. I just—just want to get it over with.”

“Oh.”

“Hurts.” She looks up, laughs without humor. “Saying goodbye to everyone.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” she steps forward and wraps her arms around Jughead. Jughead hugs her back, resting his cheek on her head and clutching her dress so tight his fingers turn white. Veronica is warm and smells like coffee and perfume and Jughead can feel his heart breaking. He’s losing her again. “Stay in touch, yeah?” His voice cracks and Jughead holds her tighter.

“Yeah.”

It’s a cruel irony. Veronica and Archie aren’t together anymore but Jughead still can’t have her. He will have to comfort himself with the memory of this embrace, all he’ll ever have of Veronica, for the rest of his life. Maybe the next one, too.

Veronica pulls away first. The emptiness in Jughead threatens to swallow him whole. “I gotta go now. Finish packing.”

It doesn’t make him feel any better to see that Veronica’s eyes are wet, that at least she cares about Jughead enough to shed tears. “Yeah.”

Veronica steps back, reluctance written all over her face. She hesitates like she’s steeling herself. Then she nods. “Goodbye, Jughead.”

She smiles, one last time, the big one that shines brighter than the sun. Jughead knows he’ll be dreaming about it for days. Veronica doesn’t look back as she walks away.

[oropher]

Sawkill Girls (Review)

Sawkill Girls

by Claire Legrand

Beware of the woods and the dark, dank deep. He’ll follow you home, and he won’t let you sleep.

Who are the Sawkill Girls?

Marion: the new girl. Awkward and plain, steady and dependable. Weighed down by tragedy and hungry for love she’s sure she’ll never find.

Zoey: the pariah. Luckless and lonely, hurting but hiding it. Aching with grief and dreaming of vanished girls. Maybe she’s broken—or maybe everyone else is.

Val: the queen bee. Gorgeous and privileged, ruthless and regal. Words like silk and eyes like knives, a heart made of secrets and a mouth full of lies.

Their stories come together on the island of Sawkill Rock, where gleaming horses graze in rolling pastures and cold waves crash against black cliffs. Where kids whisper the legend of an insidious monster at parties and around campfires.

Where girls have been disappearing for decades, stolen away by a ravenous evil no one has dared to fight… until now.

REVIEW:

I think I first saw this book on booktube? Or maybe it was bookstagram and I was very intrigued by the cover and then, I went to Goodreads like a good girl and found out more about it. I wasn’t sure if it was my kind of book but then, recently, I went on an e-book spree and bought it. I am so glad I did.

“Come for a while, reads the sign at Sawkill’s ferry dock, and stay forever.”

This was first Claire Legrand book and what a smashing introduction to her writing and imagination! I should mention that I read it in a single day and it was simply because I couldn’t really put it down and leave it. It just wasn’t possible for me. So, I read on, there were moments when I was really left wondering ‘What the hell is happening in this book? Am I ever gonna really understand?’. That was in the beginning but as the plot evolved and more mysteries unfolded, I could really see what was happening and then, I literally couldn’t put it down.

“Decades of dead girls. Poor girls and rich girls. Black and brown and white girls. All of them Sawkill girls.”

Sawkill Rock, a lovely place full of lovely people and lovelier woods but it holds a history of sadness and horror. Girls have been going missing and assumed dead far more often than people might feel comfortable with. No amount of search parties or wish-making is able to help them find the girls. They just vanish and never come back. The way Claire Legrand describes the island and the people just makes me wish I was there. Almost. Considering everything else, I would rather not, you know?

“Tragedy had touched Sawkill, again and again and again, but after each girl’s disappearance, once a respectable amount of time had passed, everyone seemed to stop caring.”

There are three main characters, all of them, heartbroken in their own way. Marion, a young woman who has lost her father and is trying her best to make sure that her mother and her sister are alright in the face of such loss. She hasn’t really had the chance to grieve for her father in the same way as her family because she’s become the rock that carries them forward. She is also plus sized and whose sexuality I wouldn’t want to define but she likes girls? Then we have Zoey, she’s black and sort of on the asexual spectrum and has had a tough time since she lost her best friend to island just like untold number of girls. Her father is the town sheriff and she has a really good relationship with him that is tested as the story progresses. Lastly, we have Val, who belongs to one of the most prestigious families on the island and who has some pretty dark secrets which are damaging not only the island but her too. She has had relationships with guys but she is also attracted to girls. Her sexuality isn’t quite defined and I wouldn’t want to.

There’s also a few more secondary characters two of which I am not even how to describe but one of them I can happily talk about. Grayson. Zoey’s ex-boyfriend who is best friends with even after the break-up. He’s a precious bean and I was so happy whenever he was the page. Seriously. Such a bean. There’s the island itself, yes, it’s a character with feelings and thoughts and strategies. The Rock has its own role to play in the whole mystery and the parts are written so well that sometimes I just read them again for the sake of it.

“What I’m saying is that girls hunger. And we’re taught, from the moment our brains can take it, that there isn’t enough food for us all.”

This book, along with the horror and the fantasy element of it, also deals with how girls are viewed and raised and pitted against each other in littlest of ways. How they are generally underestimated without much conscious thought, it’s just almost default thought process sometimes and that speaks volumes. It also deals with how people, even people who know better, sometimes can’t help their thoughts. It dealt with the asexuality spectrum in a way that felt realistic. Because even when people understand, there are times when words leave lips that aren’t well-thought out or deserving but are only the after effects of emotions. Those words are unforgivable and yet, we are shown how those things can happen. Ace-phobia is very much real and very different from homophobia but just as important and I am so glad Claire Legrand addressed it in such a way.

This book is very feminist and I am glad for it, it shows three very different girls from different backgrounds who are trying to deal with loss and grief and life in general in their own way. They are brought together because of tragedies around them and are then almost made part of the cult and sacrificed but they change the cliche. I had and still have mixed feelings about the cult shown in the book, the way the men are shown to be very one-dimensional and almost too offensive. I understand that was the way they were supposed to be and one of the members did have doubts and decided to be better but on the whole, I wanted a bit more flesh? More personality. I understand that they were supposed to represent the entitlement that men have enjoyed for far too long but well, something didn’t sit well with about that, hence the four stars and not five.

“You are mighty. You are one, and one, and one. You are fragile. You can move mountains. You are breakable. You will never break. This power is mine. And now it is yours, too.”

Another problem with the book was the main villain, the Collector. Initially, I was really intrigued and frankly, that was one of the reasons I couldn’t put it down but near the end of the book, I was left a bit disappointed? I mean, the way it all worked out even with the background information we got about the Collector. I was…sort of not in awe. Also, the ending. It’s not that I didn’t want a good ending but the way the plot had moved in the last few chapters, I had sort of got my closure near the end and then to read the actual ending. It was…not bad? But not what I would have expected from all that happened in the book so far, you know?

However, overall, this book is really good. I am seriously so, so glad that I picked it up. Claire Legrand’s writing is so good and the atmosphere and the aesthetic of the whole book just made it so easy to get lost in it. I would definitely be on the lookout for her next works and I want to read Furyborn too! If horror and fantasy along with some gore is your thing, then you should definitely pick it up. There are some trigger contents and if you are uncomfortable about the following things then probably don’t pick it up. Violence, grief, loss of a loved one, gore, parental abuse, sexual abuse, blood, bleeding, talk of miscarriage, animal death, descriptions of murders, etc.