#(Hopefully I will be a bit less busy later on but it is hard to say)

[askchuuyanakahara]

(Sorry for the lack of updates! It's been a bit busy and I haven't found the time to draw for this blog! I might have to take a week break so I apologise for that.

I'm still active on twitch if people still wanna see me drawing and I hope to see everyone in another week or so!)

[stirthewaters]

Too Sharp to Touch pt.3

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: slight language, descriptions of blood and blood usage

Summary: you decide to ask Wednesday to teach you to fight, only to discover she has a different plan in mind

Pairing: Wednesday x Reader

“Teach me to fight.”

That’s what you were going to say. Simple. How hard could it be? Surely, Wednesday wouldn’t say no, right?

You had got out of your werewolf anatomy class early, dismissed with a homework assignment that you could work on later, but now your main focus was on working up the courage to ask Wednesday to teach you how to fight.

She had a soft spot for you. You were almost positive you weren’t making that up. Surely the fact that she threatened your bodily harm slightly less than others at Nevermore, or in general, was a good thing, right? And besides, she had helped you out after your fight. That has to mean something. And no, of course you weren’t looking for a reason to get into a fight just because you knew she’d be there, but… hey, it was a perk. 

It still made that little patch of fur on the back of your neck prickle just thinking about those eyes of hers.

Enid had deliberately said to you that all you had to do was ask. No tiptoeing about it, just ask her.

"Come on, Y/N, it's not that hard. She's not going to bite." "Hopefully," you responded dryly, swinging your heels as you sat on her bed. "I just don't want to have to go back to fighting instructors, they suck ass."

"Well, you'll probably have to you don't ask," Enid said with a small smile. "She likes you, Y/N. Just go for it."

Those words had been banging through your head for the past three goddamn days.

Shouldn’t be a problem, right? Worst case scenario you’d just have to get a werewolf fighting instructor instead… oh god, that would be embarrassing. Most werewolves were naturally good at fighting. Why couldn’t you be the same? It was definitely frustrating, to say the least.

You continued to pace the halls, brainstorming. Wednesday was at her Hummers meeting, but it wouldn’t be long before it was over. You had a little bit of time. Why were you even stressing it out this much? You were a werewolf! It’d be a piece of cake! Besides, Wednesday was only human, after all. Or maybe not; you weren’t entirely sure what the Addams’ were.

Perhaps you could get her something. Maybe some flowers and chocolate? To convince her to help you out? Well, you didn’t have enough time to run into town and get some chocolates, but the flowers you could definitely do.

You got up, scrambling down the hallway and hurrying down the stairs, ignoring the calls from an occasional teacher to slow down, headed for the greenhouse.

You arrived just as class emptied out, luckily, and you fought your way - literally fought; you caught more than a few elbows in your side - through the crowd of purple uniforms. Stopping by the door, you quickly checked to make sure everyone had exited before slipping inside.

You were welcomed by the cool temperature of the greenhouse, accompanied by the soft humming of the electricity, but you didn’t stop long, examining the different plants arranged around. Surely nobody would mind if you took a couple flowers? You peered at the different arrangement of flowers before your eyes caught on a lovely black dahlia, recognizing its spiky petals and dark hues to be the flower you wanted. Carefully pulling two or three from the planter, you held them carefully, exiting the greenhouse and closing the door carefully behind you as you hid the plant in the pocket of your blazer.

You hesitated briefly at the door to Wednesday and Enid’s dorm room, still catching your breath from your sprint. You could hear movement inside and you knew it wasn’t Enid; the blonde was busy working on an art project with Divina and Yoko today. You held your breath briefly before knocking your typical three knocks on the door before entering.

Quiet music came from the gramophone in the corner, signaling to you that your assumptions were correct. You turned your head to see Wednesday exiting her closet, dressed in her black and white checkered jumper with a jacket thrown over it. 

“Y/N.” She paused, the slightest hint of suspicion in her eyes when she spotted you. “What do you want?” The raven didn’t comment on the fact that you had entered the dorm without permission and you noticed. 

Now on the spot under Wednesday’s stare, you took a deep breath, forcing your hesitation down as you pulled out the black dahlia’s from behind your back, noticing too late that they were slightly crumpled; you had to bite back a frustrated huff at the sight of them. You knew you shouldn’t have put them in your blazer pocket.

“I was wondering if you’d teach me how to fight?” Silence.

More silence.

Too much damn silence.

You looked at her, feeling embarrassed about asking her like this. Her eyes slowly gazed from the flowers up to you as you stammered, “y’know, because I’m not the best at fighting, and well, you are, and I thought it could work out.” You forced yourself to stop talking before you could make yourself sound any more stupid than you already did. You were probably messing this up.

Wednesday seemed to examine you for a moment, eyes slowly moving to the flowers before back to you, staying silent for a moment longer before taking the flowers from you, depositing them on her desk. Before you could ask what she was doing, the raven turned and knelt by her bed, pulling out a semi-transparent jug filled with what appeared to be…blood? Confused, you didn’t have time to respond as Wednesday approached you, dumping the jug into your hands as she spoke.

“If you wish for me to instruct you, then you may first assist me, wolf.”

You looked down at the jug in your hands and then back at her, cocking your head slightly.

 “Is this real blood?” She ignored your question, placing a notebook inside of her bag as well as what appeared to be a sponge and some other materials.

 “I wish to begin implementing more realistic depictions into my novel. All you will need to do is act the part of a corpse for a bloodstain pattern analysis.”

“A corpse?” You repeated, raising an eyebrow in surprise and skepticism. The raven nodded, slinging her bag neatly over her shoulders.

“Correct” - she fixed you with that familiar glare you knew so well, already heading for the door. “And then I shall uphold my end of the deal.”

You hurried after her with the jug; despite it’s heaviness you carried it without a problem. “Where are you planning on doing this?”

“The woods,” came the reply. Once again you had to quicken your pace to catch up with her. How could a person so short move so damn fast? 

“So, is this real blood?” You repeated your question again; you didn’t have an issue with blood - after all you were a werewolf - but even you had to admit that if Wednesday so casually had a large jug full of real blood in her dorm it was a little concerning. The scent of it was a little different than human blood; your sensitive nose picked up a slight taint to it.

“Does it really matter?” She responded with a slight roll of her eyes. “It’s pig’s blood.”

You fell into a quiet silence as the two of you walked over the uneven terrain, the hushed silence of the woods engulfing the two of you as you entered. It was calming.

“So I’m going to be a corpse?” You said to fill the silence.

Wednesday nodded, adjusting the bag around her shoulder as she walked. “Indeed. I’ve played the role numerous times for my own amusement in the Addams Mansion. Consider yourself fortunate I’m even letting you in on the act.” With a sigh, you followed her as she led the way, the jug making swishing noises as the thick blood sloshed around inside. 

“And how long will this take?” 

“If your performance suffices, then not long.”  - Wednesday slowed her pace slightly, her gaze fixed on the woods - “we’ll find a suitable clearing where I can conduct the analysis. You’ll lie down, I’ll do my work, and then afterward you’re free to do as you please.” The raven eyed your clothing for a moment. “I assume you won’t mind dirtying your clothes.”

“Of course not,” you muttered sarcastically. “We werewolves love bloodied clothing.”

“Yes, because impeccably clean clothing is such a priority in the middle of the woods,” Wednesday scoffed, rolling her eyes in response. 

Eventually she seemed to reach the spot she wanted, a gloomy clearing shrouded in shadows. It fit the vibe - or Wednesday’s vibe at least - the shadows encompassed most of the main clearing and the sounds of the Academy were too faint for even your heightened hearing to pick up on.You looked at Wednesday for instruction and she merely gestured for you to lay down on the forest floor. You set the jug down and awkwardly arranged yourself over the ground, wincing and plucking out a few uncomfortable rocks under your spine.

Once you had gotten comfortable enough to be in the position for a good amount of time, you watched as Wednesday set down her bag on a log, retrieving her materials and standing there for a moment as she examined you, dark eyes roaming over your body. Was she scanning you for imperfections? Observing you to give you some tips on how to act more corpse-like? Or was it something else entirely?

You started to speak before you were cut off by the raven kneeling down at your side, bringing the sponge, an already slightly bloodied handkerchief, and the jug of blood over to begin. You didn’t flinch once as she began to carefully and precisely dab the blood onto specific spots of your clothing or skin.

You held as still as you can manage, save your baited breath as Wednesday delicately smeared a nice glob of thick blood over your neck, pausing only when she saw your muscles tense slightly. Her brows furrowed just barely as her hand hovered right above your neck, not moving.

Now, Wednesday Addams was certainly not a person who blushed; in fact you seriously doubted that she even had the capability to blush; you wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t. Instead you watched as her nose scrunched just the slightest bit, the freckled skin over her nose darkening faintly, eyes flickering to yours once as she muttered, “don’t move.”

You forced your muscles to relax, watching as she smeared another good portion of blood on the side of your neck, feeling the cold thick liquid slowly running down your collarbone as she hesitated yet again, seeming to get stuck watching the blood on your neck before continuing, acting as if it never happened, arranging the blood in a pattern that appeared to be extremely specific to what she required.

Once done she prepared her notebook and began writing, pencil moving at impressive speeds with expert precision as she occasionally glanced back at you for reference, muttering once in a while under her breath, eyebrows furling in concentration as she recorded her observations before she repeated the process all over again.

When you were receiving a nice bloodstain on your lower calf you felt a raindrop on your nose as the sky darkened further, a low rumble of thunder making itself heard throughout the woods. You glanced at the sky and felt your body tighten a little at another soft echo of thunder throughout the woods; you never liked storms but you definitely weren’t going to seem like a coward in front of Wednesday. Especially not now. So you bit your tongue, laid your head back against the moss and let her work, trying to ignore the precise, somewhat gentle touches accompanied by the sound of pencil on paper.

You found the whole situation odd yet fitting.

After a bit longer, Wednesday sighed and stood, taking down a last few notes before starting to pack up her bag, replacing her materials neatly.

“You may get up now.”

With relief you sat up, looking down at the new bloodstains on your leg and neck. You reached down to try and wipe it but it stained. You huffed slightly, realizing you were going to need a good shower when you returned. Your clothes could use a good wash too if you managed to wash the scent of pig blood out of them.

You sat up, brushing the loose dirt and forest debris off your shirt and pants, stretching your aching joints; somehow some tiny rocks had managed to find you spine nonetheless.

“Meet me in the fencing hall tomorrow night,” Wednesday stared at you for a moment, not bothering to thank you as she abruptly turned and started walking again.

You hurried after her, catching up easily as you were used to the forest terrain; when you caught up you huffed, “no thank you for my service?”

“I will display my regard for your work by improving your fighting skills instead of supplying you with empty compliments,” the raven looked up at you with slightly narrowed eyes. “Don’t push your luck.”

You couldn’t resist a little roll of your eyes but you nodded. You never acknowledged the fact that you both knew she wouldn’t actually refuse to teach you how to fight. 

Or so you hoped.

As the two of you walked, a faint rumble echoed through the sky as a soft downpour began to rinse the forest. You felt the sprinkle wash away some of the lesser dried blood and you instinctively shook out your neck and hair a little bit, not a fan of wet hair or fur.

You continued walking, suddenly aware of Wednesday’s eyes on you once more. Observing you. Not with that same interest that she did when she was working. To you it appeared more inquisitive… slightly curious. Like you were a puzzle she was determined to solve. You pretended not to notice.

But you did. 

—————

pt.4 here!

[imaginingaustin]

me, her, and the moon

summary: when you wake up after a bad dream, austin finds you stargazing as you try to ease your mind.

you returned home from work one evening to a wonderful smelling meal. you walked through your entry way into the kitchen to find austin unloading the delivery bags that were spread across the counter.

“perfect timing! the food just got here.” he said with a smile. you walked over to him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before going to your room to change from your work clothes. you walked back out to the dining room where austin had plates made of food. you sat down with him and started eating, making small talk and catching each other up about your days.

“i’m just glad its friday and i dont have to worry about work again until i go back on tuesday.” 

“you’re off monday?” he asked, raising a brow.

“yes, fortunately. my manager gave me the day off because they ‘recognize how hard i’ve been working and can see that i am pulling more than my fair share of work.’” you said, mimicking your manager’s voice, causing austin to laugh.

“well, i can vouch for that. you have been working really hard these past few weeks and deserve much more than just an extra day. but at least your boss can recognize that.” austin said, and you nodded in agreement.

“i’m just waiting for summer when work calms down. then i wanna take trip, just me and you. i don’t care where, but i need to be on a beach with a margarita in my hand.”

“that sounds like a perfect idea. i’ll get planning right away.” austin said with a smile. you finished dinner, and lounged on the couch watching tv before you started to fall asleep. the two of you moved got ready for bed, you quickly falling asleep once your head hit the pillow.

a few hours later, you were jolted awake by a nightmare. you sat up in bed, panting and trying to catch your breath while remaining as quiet as possible so you didn’t wake austin. his light snores filled the room, bringing you back down to earth. you watched him sleep, heart swelling at the sight, as your breath finally calmed. you quietly climbed out of bed, grabbing your water bottle from the nightstand, and moving to the living room. you contemplated turning on the tv, but ultimately decided to move out onto the back patio, beautifully illuminated by the moon.

you plopped down on the patio couch, looking up at the stars, finding peace in counting them. it allowed you take your mind off the nightmare you’d had, and sitting with the ambiance of the night was calming. you sat out there for a while before you heard the back door open. you turned to the noise to find austin stepping out onto the patio.

“hey, did i wake you?” you asked.

“not immediately. i rolled over and reached out for you, but came up empty handed.” he sighed. “what are you doing out here?” he asked as he sat down with you. he placed his arm around your shoulder and you leaned into his side.

“i had a bad dream. i forgot what it was as soon as i opened my eyes, but i just know that it was stressing me out and i was sweating really bad.” you sighed. “i had a headache when i got out of bed, but it seems to have subsided since i’ve cooled down.”

“i’m sorry.” austin said, looking at you with a pout.

“it’s okay. its just the stress of work building up and me finally hitting the wall. hopefully it’ll subside once i’m less busy.” you sighed, intertwining your fingers with austin’s, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand.

“then we’ll be on the beach and you'll have margaritas in both of your hands.” he laughed. 

“oh that’s even better than what i suggested.” you laughed. you and austin sat there quietly as you continued watching the stars. you started to fall asleep on austin’s shoulder, and you let you rest for as long as he could before he himself got uncomfortable. you were deep asleep by that point, so he gently lifted you from the couch and carried you back to bed. unknown to you, he stayed up for a little bit longer, watching you sleep, making sure that you stayed asleep. once you’d been asleep for about an hour, he went back to sleep, holding you tight in his arms.

[venus-is-thinking]

hi! I wanted to ask if thinking about milgram will ever get new updates or posts?

Hello anon, and thank you so much for asking!

The short answer: yes, but not as much as when we were initially active. You may have noticed at this point, but other than when a new MV drops, I (admin Venus) have been the only one posting anything for a little while. So, outside of the MV drops, you probably shouldn't be counting on any content from any other admins.

Most notably, this includes the translated versions of the Minigram comics. Mercury says she'd like to get back to it someday, but we're all pretty busy (junior year of college hit us hard) and she doesn't know when she'll get back. So, possible those will be resumed/caught up on someday, but probably not anytime soon.

I'm probably not gonna be quite as active while we're between trials, just because there's less content to analyze, but I am still intending on posting some things! For example, I'm hoping to get started on a post analyzing the end of trial 2 and predicting possible developments going into trial 3. There are also some asks I want to catch up on, too (and I'm happy to answer any new ones as well). I'm officially on summer break as of two days ago, so I'm hoping to be back!

Also, I'm just gonna use this as a quick PSA to askers: sorry if I ever don't get back to your asks or if I get back months later! A lot of the time, I'll see an ask, think I need a lot of time to explain it/brush up on the info around the topic, determine I don't have the capacity to do so right now, and then forget about it. If you're ever extra-curious, don't hesitate to send a follow-up ask; it'll remind me that the original one exists.

But yeah, hopefully this clears some things up!

(Also, for anyone curious: I am also intending on getting more active on this account again too. DRDT narrative analysis of Levi accomplice theory coming... hopefully at some point. I lowkey want to rewatch all of DRDT or at least Chapter 2 before I write it, so it may take me a bit, but I have NOT forgotten.)

[jellyfishrnice]

A small premise/idea for a sevika x reader!

-

"Y'know, you knocking is a think Sev'," you say to the tall woman who barged into your backstage dressing room, you didn't react when she slammed the door and locked it, only fixing the smudged lip liner on your lips.

You were performing at the last drop for the first time in a month, being a desired singer in the undercity and topside was a very busy career; wether casual birthday parties for rich assholes on topside or just a random club in the undercity (Sevika has been trying to get you to call it Zuan), it made you money and you enjoyed it. How could you complain?

You couldn't complain, but Sevika definitely could.

"What do I hear about you singing for one of the council members?" She grit her teeth to try not to say something she'll regret. You rolled your eyes and continued to apply your lip liner carefully, only looking at Sevika though the mirror of your vanity.

"They asked me, and payed me generously. What's so confusing," you shrugged and added a little lipgloss to your soft lips and rubs them together before you felt Sevikas strong hands grab your shoulder and whip you around to face her.

"You know damn well we're at the brink of war, and you decide to play dress up with the enemy -" she inhaled sharply and pulled herself away, her nonmechanical hand running down her face. You bit your lip before letting out a soft sarcastic laugh.

"What does it matter to you, I thought that I'm "just a fling, "quoting you directly, by the way!" You said while adjusting the strap to your dress, Sevikas nostrils flared in frustration before she flinged off her coat onto the nearby chair and collapsed onto the couch, rubbing her temple. You didn't bat an eye at her obvious frustration, only checking your apprence one more time before standing up from your vanity chair.

"Where are you going?" Sevika asked, leaning forward on the couch. "Where do you think? I'm on in 10," you groaned and slipped on the new shiny black heels that were bought for you by some random admirers from topside.

"Can we please just talk about the danger there is to you, a woman from the undercity, being surrounded by topsiders who couldn't care less about anything other than fucking-" You didn't let her finish her sentence before walking out and slamming the door shut.

"God, she always does this!" You shouted to the bartender who you couldn't remember the name of. You took a shot and slammed the glass onto the old splintered bar. You wiped your mouth and adjusted your dress (that barley went past your mid thigh) and marched your way up to the stage.

Before you can even get through half the bar, you feel a very similar calloused hand grip your arm and drag you away upstairs to a dark office.

"Sevika what the fuck!" You shouted and ripped your arm away from the beast of a woman. She stared down at you with seemingly nothing in her eyes.

"I'm literally on in 2 minutes! I need to be down there and-"

"Just shut up please," she mumbled out before cupping your face with her large hands and leaning down to kiss your soft, plush perfectly lined lips.

Well not perfectly lined anymore.

You tried pushing her away for a moment, but the familiar way she held the back of your head and the taste of smoke on her tounge made it incredibly hard to pull away. After a moment or two, you melted into her arms, wrapping yours around her shoulders.

She let go of your lips and started to kiss down your jaw and eventually reached the length of your neck, leaving small marks that she knew people would see later on stage.

"You're so - mmm- annoying Sev," you mumbled softly next to her ear. She only hummed gruffly as she continued to bite and suck on your neck. Before you could say anything else, she picked you up by the thighs, wrapping your legs around her waist, and was laying you across the desk in the office you assumed was hers. Hopefully, not Silcos, or this would be incredibly awkward.

"Missed you so much, sweetheart," she groaned into your neck and let her hands travel to your hips and waist; your small dress riding up even more to expose more of the soft skin.

"Shut up sev'," you muttered whine letting her kneel down to have her face between your legs.

'I should really think twice before coming back here,' you thought, and then your mind went blank as Sevika pulled your lacy underwear to the side and pushed herself forward.

-

Little sevika thing since im obsessed with her 😫 thanks for reading!!

Not proofread forgive me 💔

[masked-alien-lesbian]

Hey if this isn't too much...how about an au for soldier Raelyn and princess Hana

A historical version of Shipwrecked with soldier Raelyn x Princess Hana AU

(This might or might not be what you wanted but I was inspired lol so here you go) Also I made Hana a bit more bold so she might be a little OOC, hopefully not too OOC though.

Climbing the ranks in the royal navy was a difficult endeavor, especially if you weren't male so Raelyn had to work twice as hard as any other officer and despite becoming a lieutenant, the Admiral gave Raelyn the lowly jobs. And although they were delegated to being pretty much Hana's personal footman on this embassy, they found they didn't quite mind serving the beautiful princess.

She was kind and actually looked at Raelyn when she spoke to them. She asked questions about Raelyn's life, past experiences and likes and dislikes. Raelyn had never felt this seen by a noble before or well seen by anyone like Hana.

So yes, maybe Hana asked for Raelyn's assistance on tasks better suited for her hand maidens. Surely helping a lady, much less the Princess of Cordonia, get dressed and undressed was inappropriate for someone as lowborn as Raelyn? But they were ordered to tend to Princess Hana's needs and defying her would be worse, right?

Right. So Raelyn ignored the soft moans Hana uttered as they untied her corset with trembling hands. Her corsets were just tight, and releasing that pressure must be a relief. Raelyn had no business replaying those moans later on as they tossed and turned in their bunk at night.

Raelyn ignored how often Hana would grasp their hands in excitement every time she spotted a new sea animal and the way it made the butterflies kick up a storm in their stomach. They tried to forget the first time Hana fed them chocolate.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

"I think I'm in the mood for a piece of chocolate. Do you like chocolate Lieutenant?" Hana asks as she rummages among her things.

"I'm not sure, Princess. I've never tried chocolate." Raelyn answers. At this Hana looks aghast.

"Truly? It's wonderous! You must try a piece!" The beautiful princess says holding out a piece of chocolate wrapped in pretty gold paper.

"My princess, I shouldn't. Chocolate is expensive, you shouldn't waste it on the likes of--" Hana interrupts Raelyn by gently placing her hand on their mouth.

"Now none of that. Here. Open wide." Hana commands, the hand that was on Raelyn's lips now were cupping their jaw, lightly pressing their cheeks to open up for her. Raelyn obeyed, captivated by Hana's brown eyes and the way she looked at Raelyn's lips.

"Stick your tongue out." Hana orders, Raelyn's furrows their eyebrows.

"Princess-"

"Don't you want to be good for me?" At this Raelyn nods and sticks their tongue out. Hana then places a chocolate square on Raelyn's tongue.

"You're such a good soldier. Now savor it. Let it melt in your mouth." Hana says never taking her eyes off of Raelyn's lips. The flavor of the chocolate swept across Raelyn's tastebuds and their eyes widened.

"It's so good." Raelyn says, Hana smiles. And than swipes a little bit of chocolate from the corner of Raelyn's mouth on her thumb but instead of using a handkerchief to clean it off she stuck her thumb in her own mouth. Hana moans and her eyes fluttering were probably an over exaggeration but that sound, that memory would stay with Raelyn forever.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

But now these inappropriate thoughts and feelings had to be put on the back burner. Right now the ship was sinking. A storm had came with little warning and the sailors failed at keeping the ship afloat. Raelyn had tried to leave Hana in her quarters to help but Hana had begged Raelyn to not leave her. Perhaps that is what saved them both, as the waves capsized the ship, dragging all the men screaming out into the angry sea.

Unmanned, the waves crashed the ship into the rocks and now more and more water was seeping into Hana's quarters.

"Princess, we must try to get to the rowboats. We're not safe here." Raelyn says, Hana nods fearfully but tried to put a brave face on. When Raelyn opens the door, immediately the sea swept in waist deep. At Hana's gasp, Raelyn turns worriedly towards her and grips her hand.

"It's fine! I'm fine! Just took me by surprise." Hana says reassuringly.

"Take it slow and watch your step, my princess, there most likely will be debris underfoot." Raelyn says but Hana didn't point out with the way Raelyn walked in front of her leading her out, that Raelyn was sweeping all the debris out of Hana's way.

They made their way out onto the decks and Raelyn's breathes out a sigh of relief at the sight of the rowboats still intact and tied down. Suddenly the ship tilted and the force ripped Hana's hand out of Raelyn's grasp.

"Raelyn!" Hana screamed as her body slipped down the side of the ship towards the ocean.

"Princess!" Raelyn hollers, throwing themselves after her catching her with one hand, anchoring their body precariously on the railing. They both looked in each other eyes, knowing that was a close call. Suddenly barrels and and anything not tied down rained all around them as gravity did its job.

"Ugh!" Raelyn groans as a crate grazed their face on its way into the ocean.

"Raelyn!" Hana cries out in alarm. Raelyn glares at the sea and with a cry of effort hauls Hana up and back onto the ship.

"Go my princess! We may have to climb the deck to get to the boats but I'll be right behind you! I won't let you fall. The ocean will NOT take you from me." Raelyn mutters determinedly and although riddled with fear of their predicament, it gave Hana the strength to climb the steep incline of the deck, feeling Raelyn's form behind her gently boosting her up.

Finally they hauled themselves into a boat and huddled together as the ship gradually sunk further and further into the ocean. Hana shivered soaked as she was by the furious waves and Raelyn immediately took their coat off to drape on her shoulders.

"But you'll be cold." Hana tried to protest.

"Not by much, I run hot. And you're more important." Raelyn says causing Hana to shake her head.

"No I'm not more important, Raelyn, in case we don't make it, there something I need to tell you--"Raelyn cuts Hana off.

"We're going to make it. I will make sure you make it, my Princess." Raelyn says before hurrying to untether their little rowboat from the sinking ship. After they were free, Raelyn battled the waves that tried its best to capsize them for what felt like hours. When the storm finally died down, Raelyn slumped over in exhaustion.

"Come here Raelyn." The princess softly orders, pulling the exhausted soldier down on the rowboat's floor with her. Raelyn was too tired to protest and just sinks into her arms. Hana clutched onto her precious lieutenant half asleep as the same waves that tried to kill them, gently pushed their rowboat towards the shore of an unoccupied island. Tomorrow would be a different battle. For now, the princess and her soldier were alright.

🌊⛈️🌊⛈️🌊⛈️🌊⛈️🌊⛈️🌊⛈️🌊⛈️🌊⛈️🌊⛈️

[vgperson]

What Did I Do In 2022?

Game Translations That Aren't YTTD: 1. Okay, maybe 1.5.

----

First of all, while I didn't add it until later in the year (not entirely unmotivated by the Stability of Platforms), my site now has an RSS feed for notable updates of any kind! I mention this upfront because I'm mostly just going over the things that are already listed there. It currently retroactively covers everything back to 2020, but I might add more past stuff over time so it can better serve as a general "everything I've ever done" page.

In February, I translated Kenshi Yonezu's POP SONG (and an interview). Noel The Mortal Fate Seasons 1-7 also got a revamped version on consoles (Switch, PS4); the console versions include a new Season 3.5 translated entirely by me, and the rest of the seasons have a revised script which is more thoroughly edited by me than even the redone Steam translation was.

In March, the update adding Kai to Your Time To Shine came out. Yes, he is Kai.

In April, I finally finished up my unofficial Japanese translation patch for Petal Crash. たのしいね、クラッシュ！ It actually just got some extra attention after the Petal Crash run for RTA In Japan about two days ago, which is kind of wild. Is this what it's like to be famous...? (clueless)

In May, I translated Kenshi Yonezu's Shin Ultraman theme song M87 (interview, interview), and the coupling song from the single, ETA. And there was an article about the 10th anniversary of his debut!

Also in May, the Ib remake came out on Steam in English! Told you they'd contact me. It was later announced to be coming to Switch, scheduled for March 2023.

In August, Your Turn To Die was announced to be coming to Steam. It's planned for early 2023, but to be clear, it'll release first in Early Access still with no final part, though with some exclusive mini-episodes and character profile sheets. Apparently once that's out, the actual completion is estimated for 6 to 12 months later... but, you know. Estimates are hard.

In September, I put together a guide for and officially "released" my Custom Translation Engine plugin for RPG Maker MV, the one I made for the Ib remake, and back-implemented into Your Turn To Die shortly after I was contacted about it coming to Steam. It's fancy (in-game language switching!), convenient (minimal direct editing of code!), and you can use it for your own translation projects if you want!

In October... well, I didn't do anything new for it, but I'll take credit for The Witch's House MV coming to consoles. (Switch, PS4, Xbox) I also translated everyone's favorite Chainsaw Man opening KICK BACK, associated interviews, and the single's coupling song Y'all Should Be Ashamed.

Finally, in December, after lots of spending my time elsewhere and indecision about how I should go about returning to doing some dang free game translations, I concluded that what I'd really wanted to do all year was translate Uri's PEDESTAL.

I think some people latched onto specific parts of Uri's original explanation for why it wasn't being translated, such as the cultural aspects (I honestly winced at her blunt remark that the story was "no good at all"), but while Uri indeed had those doubts at the time of release, the only real reason it wasn't translated at the time is that I did a less-than-ideal rushed playthrough that slightly hurt my overall impression of its quality, and I felt too busy at the time to work on something with lots of text that was likely to be divisive. So similarly, me finally feeling up to it was the reason it did get translated. I probably should've come back to it quite a bit sooner (after I was made to give up a certain other translation, say), but as I alluded to in last year's post, I was self-conscious about "my big return to free game translations" being something that might not have wide appeal. Uh, glad to be past that, hopefully.

Oh, and ever since finishing PEDESTAL, I've been working on all sorts of overhauls to my site, but like... not the kind that actually majorly changes any part of the visible design and annoys people (and if something did change in an annoying way, it's probably accidental). Some of it's just better consideration of mobile browsing (stuff like images or tables sticking out of bounds at mobile resolutions), or making things more convenient for myself behind the scenes (did you know I made a program to add "br"s to every line of all lyrics content before considering I could just have the page code do that, and also better?).

Some more major observable changes include general renovations to the lyrics page (bigger font size, buttons that hide individual languages to aid in side-by-side comparison), and more convenient navigation of OSTER's tweets, such that I could actually imagine someone reading through them all the way from the start without it being too much of a hassle.

----

While I'm glad to be over the PEDESTAL hump, I don't... necessarily have any definite plans for upcoming free game translations. I mostly just have some stuff on a list that I may have to make myself check out soon enough. Also, Game Atsumaru (which you may know as The Site That Hosts YTTD's Japanese Version) is ending in June??? So uh, might have to accelerate checking out stuff on there, though I guess it depends on how many creators are able to migrate. (Nankidai does plan to put YTTD's Japanese browser version up somewhere else.)

As I mentioned, Your Turn To Die's Early Access release on Steam should be coming up early next year with those mini-episodes and character profiles, and the game might be completed within the year. No promises. I mean, I don't have anything to promise, it's not my game.

Speaking of my game... also no promises. But I'd really like to release one. We'll see what happens. There's also a different kind of original project I recently returned to trying to make real, which could come early in the year, but who knows. As should be apparent, I'm working on a lot of different fronts here, so I frequently feel bad about neglecting such-and-such type of creative work, which sometimes means nothing actually gets done and released. Ultimately, though, it's probably better to follow what I most feel like doing, rather than force focus on one thing and end up not actually getting much done.

Which is to say: hoping to finish something in the new year!

[writersdare]

Paris Broke My Heart (p.2) | Calum Hood

Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader (she/her)

Summary: A whole year apart. Is there even a chance for Calum and Y/N to be together?

Warning: angst (happy end), fluff, friends to lovers, a bit of cursing and mentioning of alcohol

Word Count: 1 868

Requested: yes and yes

Author’s Note: Read the 1st part here! Without it the story wouldn't really make any sense ♡ I liked the dramatic ending, but I think I like this one better. Hopefully you'll enjoy it, too ♡

Time was making a cruel joke of Calum and Y/N. It wasn’t flying fast like they hoped, on the contrary, it was going extremely slow, torturing day by day. The more weeks were passing by, the more painful it was to be so far from each other.

“How is your new apartment?” the girl called Cal right after landing in Paris and entering her new home. She looked around, having truly no idea how to answer his question. The flat was fine, light and rather spacious. Back to Los Angeles, she dreamed of a normal place to live in, not a small studio with crazy neighbours. However, having a good apartment in Paris did not make her happy. In fact, she didn’t feel anyhow better in another country. The heart was still aching. And Cal’s words “please, don’t go” were still bouncing in her head.

“It’s alright,” Y/N mumbled and bit her lips. “Don’t forget to take care of the plants I gave to you, alright? I worked really hard to keep them alive,” she smiled, but the joy sounded fake.

“Sure, don’t worry.”

He moved the plants to Ashton’s apartment. Cal knew it was pathetic and ridiculous, but even stupid flowers were hurting him, reminding about Y/N. He was angry with himself for letting her go. Other days, if he had too much of alcohol in his blood, he’d be mad at her for ruining everything they had. And that night at the club… She didn’t even talk about it. Did she regret that much?

The first two weeks Y/N was crying every single night, missing her friends, missing Calum. She didn’t regret what had happened between them, however, she hoped it’d have happened much earlier, not few days before her leaving.

Despite some awkwardness in their goodbyes, Calum and Y/N stayed in touch. Or better to say they tried to. The difference in time zones were killing them, it was so much worse comparing with the period when he was on tour. At first, they tried to keep up with their casual messages once a day – when it was morning for her and evening for him – but slowly the texts were shorter and rare. The phone calls became less pleasant and later disappeared at all. After some time, months being in Paris, Y/N got used to her life more or less. At some point she even let the friends know she met a nice guy, and more and more often Calum would see on social media her photos always next to that guy. Few times Cal was thinking to remove Y/N from his following list just to stop seeing her happy face, while he was so devastated. 

“Please, tell me it meant something for you.”

Y/N opened her eyes lazily, but closed them immediately, feeling extremely sleepy. However, recognising the voice on the phone, the girl jumped in bed and glanced at the French boyfriend, lying next to her. Thankfully the guy didn’t wake up from the call.

“Calum,” she whispered and, putting on a first shirt she found in her closet, hurried up to leave the bedroom. “Are you drunk?”

“Is that what matters to you, huh? Only this?”

“It’s night here, Cal, I can’t talk now,” she whispered.

“Sure, you can’t. Is he there? In your bed?”

Y/N clenched a hand into a fist, trying to hold back the tears.

“It’s not your business, Cal.”

“It is mine. It supposed to be mine,” he mumbled and sobbed, feeling like shit. He was drunk, it was a rather normal condition of his lately, on the days off. “You left me, as if I never meant anything to you. How could you? After all… after all we had together…”

“I left you?” Y/N outraged in a whisper, going to the kitchen. “Do you think I wanted to leave so much? But you didn’t say a thing. You didn’t tell if it was important to you that I stay.”

“You sent this application at first place!” he snapped.

“And you never asked why I did that, Calum! I couldn’t stay any longer, it was killing me! You were killing me!” she couldn’t hold back the pain any longer. “I chose this path, because it’s better this way. I’m moving on, and you should, too.”

“So, this is it? You saying you don’t give a damn about what happened in the club, Y/N?”

“It was everything to me,” she said and closed the eyes for a moment. “But it doesn’t matter anymore,” Y/N finished the call and came back to the bedroom, texting Luke on her way to look after Cal as, apparently, he couldn’t do that himself.

Surely Y/N did not stop having feelings for Calum, it’d be naïve to think so. But the life kept going, she knew she needed to halt looking back. They couldn’t be together; Cal didn’t even offer to visit her in Paris or invite to his place for the weekends. He was playing his part again, being all cold and detached from her, and that time the girl decided to let it be.

However, it was rather ignorant for Y/N to believe she could find her happiness with someone else. And even if she didn’t think so, she at least hoped she’d be able to hold on to her imaginary love for a little longer. Just few months passed before saying to the French boyfriend rather trivial “I’m sorry, but I’m in love with my best friend”.

Y/N did not come to LA on winter holidays, she thought it would be for the best. Otherwise, she’d start crying again, would experience the feelings towards Calum even stronger, and it’d broke her completely, irrevocably. She did not visit the city of angels during her days off or other vacations, and Cal did not fly to Paris to see her. Funny enough, both realised pretty soon that they were suffering not because of the distance between them, but simply because of the feelings towards each other.

And the whole year passed just like that, yet it felt like eternity. In spite of that, when Y/N sent Calum the only message about her flying to LA next morning because Paris was not her home, the musician felt like he was back to the past.

To the happy one, where Y/N was not leaving, and he felt like he had all time in the world to be with her. To the time, when they were hiding from rain in some old local store with a gumball machine.

“Look!” she wiped wet hands on soggy jeans and started to search coins in her pockets. Calum was quicker, though, so he put few in the machine, and the girl began filling her mouth with yellow, green and red gums that looked more like some plastic. No matter how passionate Cal could be about the taste of each – he claimed that the red one had a strawberry flavour, the green one was apple-flavoured and the yellow was a lemon – to Y/N they all tasted the same. The tongue was changing its colours like a chameleon, though. The girl gave a blue one to her friend, so he took it by his lips, and they switched places. It was Y/N’s turn to put the coins in the machine, while Calum would catch the gums for himself. 

“It makes my hungry,” he mumbled, trying to chew ten of them at once, while the girl was spending her last coins on few more gumballs.

“Let’s wait a bit longer, the sun is already peeking out of the clouds,” she noticed, and they both glances at the window, which possibly wasn’t washed since the opening of that store. Usually, a summer downpour wouldn’t last long, so they were sure they’d be able to leave the place quite soon.

“I’d die for a cup of tea and some soup now,” the musician giggled and shock his head actively, when Y/N tried to put the last gum in his mouth. “I don’t have a place in there anymore! Y/N!” he laughed and closed the mouth with a palm.

Just few hours after that he wasn’t smiling anymore, finding out the girl was going to Paris for the whole damn year.

Here he was, though, in the airport where he experienced maybe his very first real heartbreak. Calum saw the girl’s sleepy face and smile that would always light up his dark world. Approaching him, she touched a shirt collar first just to make sure Cal was real. They hugged each other tight, closing the eyes and trying to forget the whole year being apart. Y/N was hearing his rushed heartbeat and thinking how stupid she was believing she could stop feeling anything romantic towards her best friend.

“I love you,” she wanted to say, but only whispered. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he said, but thought. “I wish I could just say how much I love you.”

An hour in taxi, and they were home. Her apartment did not really change much, even though it looked a bit alien after such a long absence. 

“Why didn’t you visit?” when superficial conversation was over, the girl could not help asking. She didn’t mean to start a fight, but that question was bothering her for the whole year, and she finally felt brave enough to ask that. 

“I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to come back to LA then,” Cal mumbled quietly, almost whispering.

“You do understand how stupid it sounds, don’t you?”

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” he smirked. “I just couldn’t come. Couldn’t. You left; you made your choice. I had to accept it.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears. She sobbed and shook her head.

Cal swallowed and closed the eyes for a moment.

“I called my ex your name, Y/N.”

“When?...”

“When we were making love,” he chuckled sadly and turned the head towards the girl. “Every night… I was imagining you instead of her,” Calum’s cheeks flared up with a blush. The guy knew how wrong it was, of course, he knew.

“I guess she was very mad,” Y/N looked away, remembering the girl from his old posts. She didn’t buy it even for a slight second and was sure they were dating just for marketing reasons. Yet, she did notice Calum not liking Y/N’s photos where she was in an embrace of her ex. So stupid.

 “I said my ex that I’m in love with you, so he threw away the tickets to Milan. It wasn’t very romantic.”

“I guess I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re not.”

“Of course, I’m not,” he smiled a bit, feeling better for the first time after finding out she got a boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. “I love you,” Cal said all of a sudden and took her palms in his. “I love you,” he repeated, simply bursting out the secret. The guy was ready to say it over and over again until she’d finally listen. 

 “I can’t believe you’re here. I won’t survive without you next time.”

“There won’t be the next time,” Calum warned and covered her silly lips with his after she replied,

“I love you, too, my best friend.”

taglist: @dgrangaa, @gracieboogirl

Moodboard ♡

– gifs aren’t mine and belong to the rightful owner – saw the 2nd here @ghost-of-you –

© writersdare | all rights reserved

All stories are original and written by me. Do not copy, trace and post anywhere without permission and credit. The stories are fictional, they do not correspond to reality and written just for fun ♡

Masterlist | Prompt List

[in-need-of-gally-content]

|Chapter•Nineteen|

•|Masterlist|•

When (M/n) opened his eyes, he guessed it was rather early still, the silence of the Glade buzzing in his ears, filled by the ambience sounds around, but there were no sounds that could be produced by humans.

He sat on the bed, slowly and carefully, and he was able to feel how his pain was almost fully gone, he just had to be careful with certain movements and probably not lift heavy stuff, but he felt fine and the bruises looked good as well. Maybe he could get some work done if he could make Gally give in.

And that was gonna be his objective, he only had one obstacle in his path, and it had the name of; Gally.

Hopefully, it won't be too hard.

But first, he had to use the bathroom.

//////

He went back to his treehouse with a light jog, going up the ladder to change his clothes into something more light, the day was getting warm but hoped it wouldn't be too hot later in the afternoon, and he stepped down again, greeting Bark with a good morning hug.

"Oh, you're already up," he looked up, squinting his eyes due to the sunlight coming through the tree branches and leaves, and there was Gally, making his way to them. Bark backed away from (M/n) and went to greet the blond as well, who smiled and messed with his fur a bit.

"Yeah, that's unusual," they chuckled and soon began making their way back to the Homestead, "I feel pretty good today, actually..." He said acting nonchalantly, but Gally didn't miss it.

He looked at (M/n), who had his lips pursed and wasn't looking at him. Gally had a grin on his face, shaking his head and softly patting his shoulder, now (M/n) was looking at him.

"We'll see, dummy, we'll see," he huffed and pouted but didn't say anything, following Gally inside and waiting in line for their breakfast portion.

The blond looked at him, almost dumbfounded at the fact that (M/n) was queueing with him to eat, even Fry was pleasantly surprised, and with a smile, he served (M/n) a smaller portion of his breakfast and they made their way to their table. Only a few of their friends were already there, eating and simultaneously falling asleep.

(M/n) waited until Gally had eaten something before asking him if he could work, telling him that he was feeling good and felt like he could handle it. So when Gally was smiling and talking to the others as they began fully waking up, he took a deep breath.

"Gally-," his voice got cut off by the sound of thunder going on outside. A few guys jumped at the loud and sudden sound, and they glanced outside, seeing how the sunlight they had less than five minutes ago was disappearing behind dark clouds, the sky turning grey.

Everyone was silent, just waiting for the rain to start, and they didn't have to wait too long, because it began pouring.

"Well..." He turned to look at Gally as he spoke, picking up some more of his breakfast, "Now we gotta wait."

(M/n) remembered that Minho had once told him about the rainy days in the Glade, this was the first one he'd witnessed ever since he arrived, so he was kind of lost on what to do. Minho said that the Glade gets a little boring when it's raining, they have stuff to entertain themselves with while they wait, and enough shelter around to not be all of them packed inside the Homestead, but the majority had to wait until the rain passed to be able to work.

Runners can't go in the Maze or they have to come back as soon as it starts raining because the floor gets slippery. Builders can't work under the rain and have to watch over everything to make sure nothing starts to rot, and if it does, replace it immediately before it collapses. Slicers can still work if they want, but they complain about how staying in the Blood House for too long makes them nauseous.

The only ones that didn't mind the rainy days were the Track-hoes, the plants would get watered and they just had to check up on the sticks holding them up.

(M/n) was curious to see how everyone would keep themselves busy while they waited for the rain to leave.

//////

So far, everyone had chosen to stay inside in the dining area, playing board games or joking around and talking. They had a lighter lunch since they weren't working or using their energy, and now, (M/n) had excused himself to go stay in the living room as well.

The sound of rain was relaxing, and there were only minor leaks in the Homestead. He watched Dmitri and Brandon, walking around the place and taking notes of where the leaks were while placing down buckets to hold the water in.

Even if looking out the window was nice and all, he was getting just a little bit bored.

"Doll?" (M/n)'s whole body tensed when he heard the distinctive pet name and voice of Lucas. Slowly, he turned to look up at him, shifting on his spot on the couch, and he watched how the greenie smiled at him, inching closer to take the available spot next to him, "How have you been? We haven't been talking recently-"

Another loud thunder echoed making the greenie jump, slightly startled and scared. He instinctively latched onto (M/n)'s arm, which he didn't like, and he was subtly trying to pull away from his hold, but Lucas just held onto him tighter.

"Sorry, I'm... Scared of thunder..." He mumbled, almost unsure of his words, and (M/n) frowned, trying not to look like a complete asshole that didn't give a damn. But that was the issue, he did not care about Lucas.

He just cared about having something to do or somewhere else to go where there wasn't an annoying greenie poking around his business.

And it seemed like his thoughts were heard.

"(M/n)..." Gally came back inside the Homestead, his clothes wet from the rain, he had taken off his boots by the front door to not get the floor covered in mud, and he had walked in calling for him, when his green eyes landed on Lucas, specifically staring at his grip around (M/n)'s arm.

He frowned and took a few steps forward, feeling just a little satisfied when he saw the greenie back away immediately.

"Come with me," he reached his hand out and waited for (M/n) to grab it, who took it in less than five seconds, thrilled at the thought of getting away from Lucas, and spending time with Gally.

They went up the stairs and into his room, closing the door behind them.

Without saying a word, Gally began undressing and (M/n) forced himself to turn around, slightly flustered at the thought of Gally feeling comfortable enough around him to simply start taking his clothes off.

As he tried to distract himself from the shuffling sound of clothes behind him, his eyes landed on Gally's desk. He saw a few journals, some more worn than others, crumbled paper and some drawings placed around in a messy manner, but something else caught his eye.

It was a wooden statue. A really small and cute one.

(M/n) smiled and chuckled as he took a step and gently grabbed it. He spun it around in his fingers, observing the chunky-looking wooden bear he was holding.

Gally heard his quiet laughing and turned around, fully changed into dry clothes and walked up behind (M/n), looking over his shoulder what he was laughing at. And that's when he saw that he was holding one of his most recent wood sculptures. It had been a while since he had done one, so he made something simple. A tiny bear. He was happy that (M/n) liked it.

"You can keep it, if you want," he spoke in a whisper, not wanting to ruin the chill ambience between them. (M/n) glanced up at him, and Gally felt his breath getting stuck in his throat for a few seconds, realizing how close to each other they were standing, again.

He was definitely thinking about it. He wanted to do it... But he couldn't.

"Really?" (M/n)'s voice snapped him out of his conflicted thoughts and he nodded, knowing his voice would waver if he spoke, "Thank you, Gally, it's so cute."

Gally nodded and watched how (M/n) put the tiny bear in the pocket of his hoodie. And he decided to say it, otherwise, who else would appreciate his sculptures and compliment his abilities if not (M/n)?

"Here, I have more, take a look," they approached Gally's bed, and the blond reached for another crate he kept under his bed. He had a few of those full of things that had some kind of sentimental value, and it helped him keep going, now he had an excuse to show them to someone else.

And the thought scared him as much as it excited him.

//////

Unfortunately, the rain did not stop until really late in the evening, stopping a little while after the Maze Doors closed for another night. While everyone was bored out of their mind, but enjoying the day off they got, (M/n) and Gally were still locked up in his room.

(M/n) told him he would like to learn how to wood carve and Gally was eager to teach him, so far, he hadn't been able to do anything with much detail, but he was getting there. (M/n) was just enjoying spending time with Gally, away from the greenie, sometimes getting lost in the way he would excitedly explain him something, or how he would chuckle at his struggles before helping him.

He could never get tired of spending time with Gally, could he?

A knock on the door distracted them from their fun, and Gally stood up, walking to the door. Newt was standing there.

(M/n) noticed, of course he did. He saw the happy grin growing on Newt's lips when he came face to face with Gally, shifting slightly in place to support his weight on his right leg, his head tilting ever so slightly to the left.

"Fry told me to come get you because dinner is ready, Gally, and I wanted to talk to you about something..." Newt's eyes caught sight of (M/n) sitting on Gally's bed, fidgeting with a piece of wood in his hands.

And he saw it. He saw how Newt's expression soured, the smile fading to show a frown instead, and (M/n)'s body tensed. He thought he and Newt were okay after the whole incident the other day, what happened during the time they didn't talk?

"Talk about what, Newt?" Gally pressed, leaning against the door, but Newt simply shook his head and turned around.

"It's nothing, uh... Dinner's ready, guys," he muttered again, making a subtle motion with his hand to dismiss the matter, and turned around to leave.

(M/n) stood up from his bed and stood next to Gally. Both of them observed Newt's back as he left, carefully making his way down the stairs.

"Did I..." (M/n) frowned as he spoke, catching Gally's attention as they stepped outside of the room, "Did I do something to Newt?"

A quizzical expression came across his face, and he looked down at (M/n), noticing that he was confused as well as hurt, though he tried to hide it. Gally hummed and shook his head, "I don't think so. Why?"

(M/n) grimaced at his response, and began walking toward the stairs, "He looked at me and just... Got annoyed at me, I don't know what happened."

Gally blinked a few times, trailing behind (M/n), wondering to himself, what could've been bothering Newt? Could it be that he was tired of constantly hearing Gally babble about (M/n) when they were together?

He will have to ask him, and try to get him to tell him, but he doubted Newt would just openly talk about his feelings and what was bothering him.

///////

When Gally woke up, the first thing he did was wait for Newt to wake up, maybe ask him what was going on, but his approach might've been just a little too aggressive and oppressive because the last thing he got wasn't the truth out of him.

"Just drop it, nothing's wrong, now stop being a twat," and he walked away just like that.

Gally let out a heavy sigh and made his way into the dining area, getting his breakfast and dragging his feet to the usual table where (M/n) was already sitting at, drinking from his coffee cup and eating a muffin. He looked at it a little confused, and sat down in front of him.

"Where you did get that?" He asked (M/n) right as he took a bite of it. The (h/c) haired male chewed enough to be able to swallow it without choking.

"Jim is learning how to bake, and I was there to taste test," he responded with a grin, before taking a sip of his coffee, humming in content at its taste.

Gally grabbed his utensil and started eating his breakfast, "And how's the taste?" He was expecting a verbal answer from (M/n), caught off guard by his action.

"Wanna try?" He lifted the muffin to his face, and Gally looked at it for a few seconds, debating whether he should or not, but he trusted (M/n) to not give him anything that tasted bad, so he shrugged and leaned closer, taking a bite off of it.

"Hm," he hummed as he felt the dough coming apart in his mouth, just the right amount of sweetness where it was nice but not overwhelming and had some flavour, "This is pretty good."

(M/n) chuckled and smiled, nodding, "I know, right? He has a talent for baking."

While breakfast went by pretty fast, (M/n) was debating asking Gally if he could finally go back to work, seeing as yesterday the rain prevented him from doing so.

They walked outside, stepping on the dirt that had stiffened up again after a couple of hours, only a few spots had mud and there were a couple of puddles around the whole Glade. He trailed behind Gally, holding his hands behind his back.

"So... Can I work today?" The blond glanced over his shoulder at him and huffed, shaking his head.

"No," (M/n)'s mouth opened in shock at his quick answer, he didn't even hesitate.

He quickly jogged until he was walking right next to him, "But I- I feel fine, Gally, please, can I-?"

"Knowing you, you'll be overworking yourself, and I can't let that happen, so again, no." And he just left him standing there.

(M/n) frowned, feeling just a little mad at Gally's concern, but he also couldn't blame him for assuming he'll overwork himself... Because he was a hundred percent right. He sighed and crossed his arms. He wasn't gonna give up that easily, he wouldn't stop bothering him until he agreed to let him work.

//////

And (M/n) stayed true to his word.

While everyone around enjoyed how annoyed Gally was getting at him, he wasn't saying anything other than 'no' over and over again at (M/n)'s request. Something about seeing their Keeper in distress, caused by the newbie, made the majority of Builders smile or laugh, but they always made sure to look away, wipe the grin off their faces and continue working, or pretend like they were getting progress whenever Gally would glare at them.

They were aware of the punishment Gally could give to them and they did not want to mess with him. But they were having fun at his expense.

(M/n) knew he was being a cheeky bastard, asking over and over again 'can I work?' without giving Gally a break, but in the end, his hard work paid off.

"Okay! Fine, you win, you can work today, (M/n)," Gally said just a little exasperated at the (h/c) haired male, who let out a snicker and quiet yet victorious 'yes!'. Gally sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "'Bout to give me a headache."

(M/n) apologized quietly and began making his way to the group doing the heaviest work, but he was held back by the collar of his shirt, preventing him from doing so and making him whine.

"Light work, (M/n), don't a slinthead, come on," he looked back at Gally, who had a smirk on his face, pretty sure this was payback for almost driving him nuts with his constant bothering.

//////

The work he was given was really the lightest. He had to bring ivy or rope over, sticks and even the toolbox. But other than that he had nothing to do, he was resting against a nearby tree and watching them do all the work he wanted to do.

He was getting bored out of his mind, so he decided to be nice and do something while everyone was busy working.

(M/n) began making his way to the Homestead and into the kitchen. He saw an empty crate by the door and he grabbed it, placing it on the counter before checking the cabinets and the fridges.

He carefully put six water bottles inside the crate, and a snack for each Builder. Dinner was still a few hours away and he figured they were thirsty and hungry, and he wanted to be helpful.

During his search for a snack or sweet everyone liked, he spotted the last sweet out of the bunch. He grabbed it and put it in his hoodie pocket instead of in the crate with the rest, he picked it up and made his way outside.

(M/n) walked toward the Builders, who looked at him from afar, and Alec was the first one to come up to him as he arrived.

"Where were you?" (M/n) smiled and looked at everyone, slightly swaying side to side and bringing attention to the crate in his hands.

"I went and got some water and snacks for you guys, figured you wanted some," everyone cheered and walked up to (M/n), thanking him and ruffling his hair, too happy about having a break to even feel bothered with having to share the bottles.

Alongside his hair being ruffled, he was hugged by the majority, while Mikah and Doug, leaned closer to kiss him, whether it'll be his head or cheek.

Gally stood a bit away, frowning about the affection (M/n) received from Mikah, unable to stop himself from feeling jealous. But the way (M/n) laughed the kiss off confused him, he acted as if getting kissed by the guy he liked was nothing... Unless he didn't like Mikah...?

But that didn't make sense, Gally was convinced it was the curly-haired blond (M/n) liked, he interacted with him differently from how he was with Minho, whom he simply acted as he did with everyone else he was friends with. So, of course, he was gonna be confused by how (M/n) shrugged it off and manoeuvred between everyone to make his way over to him.

The crate had found its way to the ground, placed on top of planks and (M/n) had grabbed a bottle. He stood in front of Gally and handed it to him.

"Unfortunately, they took all the snacks and sweets I brought," he mumbled glancing back at everyone else, Gally hummed and took a few gulps of his water, handing it to (M/n) who silently denied it, and kept watching how the rest enjoyed their food.

"Yeah, well, that's alright, I'll have to wait 'til dinner," he muttered, trying to ignore the subtle growling of his already empty stomach, but out of the corner of his eye, he noticed (M/n) reaching for something inside the pocket of his hoodie.

Gally turned to look at him, a subtle frown on his brow, and he watched him, attentively.

(M/n) completely avoided eye contact and silently handed Gally the sweet he hid. No way in hell he could forget this was Gally's favourite sweet.

"It was the last one left and I know you like it, so I took it with me," this wasn't that big of a deal, and it didn't have to mean something, yet somehow Gally couldn't shake the feeling of knowing that (M/n) remembered something he said in passing, just mentioning things to the air.

And here (M/n) was, bringing him the last share of it.

He could've kissed him, and he did. Just a small kiss on his forehead, "Thank you," he mumbled as he lingered close to (M/n).

Gally turned around as soon as he backed away, too embarrassed to look at (M/n), who was thankful he did, otherwise, he would've seen his reaction.

He covered his face with his hands, feeling the heat on his cheeks against his palms as his body got covered in goosebumps.

However, even if he avoided Gally seeing him, there was a small group of Builders who did see them, they witnessed their interaction from start to finish. Alec, Xan, Kurt, Mikah and Doug were frozen in place, eyes opened wide as they followed Gally with their sight before going back to stare at (M/n). The situation was... Unusual, but not unwelcomed.

"Should we help them?" Doug looked at the rest, who were now staring at him, with frowns on their brow as they looked at him, "Or maybe... Not?"

The first one to break his serious demeanour was Mikah, who wrapped his arm around Doug's shoulders and brought him closer, "You didn't have to ask, Doug."

//////

After managing to calm down, (M/n) looked around at everyone, and decided it had passed long enough, so he was gonna bring the crate back from where he took it. He greeted a few guys he came across with and hurried to make his way back to the Builders, but when he was already out of the Homestead, he made eye contact with Lucas. He was making his way over to the Homestead, or he, (M/n) wasn't sure and he didn't want to know.

But his opportunity to pretend like he hadn't seen him was gone when the greenie smiled at him, so he couldn't walk away as if nothing had happened because that would be rude.

He clenched his jaw for an instant and made his way to lean against one of the supports that held up the roof above the hammocks, and he waited, looking away awkwardly.

"Hey, doll," (M/n) released a quiet groan at his pet name, why does Lucas keep calling him like that? He didn't care and did not want to know either way, "We couldn't talk at all yesterday so I wanted to..."

Lucas continued to try and make small talk with him, not realizing, or more like not caring, that (M/n) wasn't responding or talking back. But (M/n) noticed how the greenie tried to get closer to him, which he didn't like, so he backed away from the support he was leaning on and took a few steps forward.

"Why don't we walk around the Glade?" It definitely wasn't a question, he needed to be in an open space where anyone could spot them easily.

Lucas was about to refute, say that he didn't want to, that he wanted to stay here and talk, but (M/n) already got a head start so he followed him.

He smiled and looked around at Glade, sighing at the gentle breeze moving their hair, "Oh, I see, you want everyone to know," that you're annoying? Absolutely, "Well, I'm sure Gally would not be happy once he finds out that we like each other, doll."

They what?

(M/n) immediately stopped walking and abruptly turned around, staring at Lucas with anger in his eyes and internally starting to freak out.

"We what, greenie?" Lucas chuckled and held (M/n)'s hands gently, acting as if it was the most obvious thing.

"I know you like me, you can't stop looking at me, doll," in what kind of world was this shank living in? It didn't make sense, "And I know you're scared of admitting it because Gally is so possessive and he can't take no for an answer, but you don't have to hide it anymore," (M/n) was frozen in place, shocked and disgusted.

This guy was delusional to an extreme he didn't even know was possible.

He assumed (M/n)'s feelings and read them as love ones? Instead of dislike? Nah, he had to say something to make Lucas understand how he felt about everything he just said and all of the things that had happened, "Greenie, I don't -"

"Just Lucas, doll, although... I wouldn't mind it if you call me yours," oh mother-, (M/n) had to swallow his spit quite harshly, otherwise he would've puked.

"Okay- no, listen, I... Greenie, I am a guy, and I feel like a guy, even though I... Look like a girl," Lucas' smile didn't falter, looking at him and slowly caressing his hand, "You're just confused, you don't like me, you're attracted to who you wished I was, alright? And I don't..." His hold was getting tighter, but he continued, he had to be clear with him or he'll never understand, "I don't see you that way either."

(M/n) wasn't expecting to hear Lucas laughing at his words, releasing his hand and reaching up to hold his face instead, staring into his (e/c) eyes with his sharp grey ones.

"No, doll, I'm not confused, you are, now is time to stop lying to me and to yourself," (M/n) felt his throat tight as his stomach churned, but Lucas was nowhere near done, "You can be the perfect wife if you live life the way you're supposed to, as a woman," it was safe to say he was speechless, his mind spinning, "You've been living with only guys for so long that you think you're one of them too."

(M/n) found it in himself to take a deep breath, an attempt at easing the rising anger inside him, who does he think he is, trying to tell him who he is and what he isn't?

Even though he really wanted to punch the greenie in the face, he remained relatively calm.

"No, Lucas, I am a man-" he had barely started arguing back when a deep frown appeared on Lucas' face, his hands lowering to hold his arms, just above his elbows, his hold rather tight and painful.

(M/n) held back a grunt of pain as his bones pressed against his ribs, and maintained their eye contact, despite the crazed look on Lucas' eyes, open wide as he glared at him.

"I could never like a weirdo, you hear me? I like the woman that I see in front of me, not a guy... I'm not gay, doll, that's disgusting," (M/n)'s teeth gritted, determined to punch some sense into him, just to get his point across.

But while he tried to behave and be civilized, he could hear how Lucas kept mumbling, mostly to himself but (M/n) could hear him due to their proximity.

"I won't forgive you if you keep pretending to be a guy just to fit in. You're wrong. Everyone that sees you as a guy is wrong. They're truly messed up for believing your nonsense, doll."

Well, that was all it took.

(M/n) lifted his arms as much as he could and pressed them against Lucas' chest, pushing him hard enough to make him trip and fall to the ground. He looked up at him with an angry look in his eyes, ready to yell at him for what he did, but (M/n) didn't give a damn about Lucas or his feelings.

"I am not interested in you like that, greenie, now shut the hell up!"

Thankfully, (M/n)'s outburst caught the attention of those nearby, including the Builders.

Gally was the first one to be next to him, instinctively holding (M/n)'s hand and standing in front of him, just guarding him slightly, "Back to work, greenie."

Lucas glared at both of them from the ground, but Gally took (M/n) away before he got to say anything to them.

[zxmickeyzx]

Mumbattan Ch.5

Barista! Pavitr x Artist! Miles

Miles came into the cafe for some chai tea, to see his friend Gwen on her shift and make some art while relaxing in the cafe. Instead he got some Barista who looked very annoyed when he tried to order and then became very passionate about ranting to him about how people say chai tea instead of just saying chai. Miles didn't mind him lecturing him on it though.

At least it was from someone so cute.

First ~ Prev ~ Masterlist ~ Next

The customer who he learned was named Miles from Gwen, did not show up the very next day again much to Pavitrs disappointment. After the talk with his Maya Auntie, he wanted to make sure he apologized properly, but it had been about two weeks since he last saw him. He thought back to their last interaction and didn't remember anything he did or say to warrant him not come back again. Hopefully he did not cause another misunderstanding and he was just overthinking it as usual. 

The cafe was less busy at the moment, as it was the middle of the day most people were either working or in school at the moment. So he took advantage of this moment to just stare into space. Honestly it was not his fault, he was cleaning but he was just so bored. He hated slow days. Maybe he could call one of his friends to keep him company, while he did enjoy Ben's company at a certain point he needed a break from the man and his dramatic flair and Gwen wouldn't come until much later. Gayatri was here earlier but she left as soon as her shift was done. ‘Hmph Traitor’ 

While lost in his train of thought he didn’t hear his name being called.

“PAVITR!” 

He jumped and froze a bit outta shock, he turned to see who called his name with such urgency. Turns out that person was Gwen. She looked frustrated with him at the moment.

“Oh! Hi Gwen!” He beams a smile at her, but she gives him a frustrated sigh in response. 

“Pav, are you okay? I have been trying to get your attention for a bit.” She gave him a bit of a concerned look. He just shook his head in disagreement. 

“No, I'm okay. I am just so bored. Are you clocking in now? I thought you worked later.” Maybe he got the times wrong. 

“Hm no. I am not working yet, Ben is covering my shift for a bit longer, said he needed the cash. I will work later though.I start when the rush starts later at around 3. You’ll be working with Ben til then?”

He groans. More Ben. 

“Don't worry I heard that Lyla is taking over more shifts when she comes back.”

“Lyla is coming back?! I thought she quit because of school?” He said in disbelief.

Gwen chuckles. “Yeah, but remember she was going to come back when her mister as TA was over. Mr. O’hara is a hard ass.” 

Lyla used to work at the cafe when she was 16 until her 2nd year in college when she became a TA for her class. Apparently Mr. O'hara, who he has heard so much about, is very strict and hard to please. It takes an extreme amount of effort to pass his classes. Before her no one wanted to deal with him, many of his former TA’s would quit within a week so it was surprising that she was his TA for a whole year. She actually recommended that they hire Gwen.

“I am excited to see her again. I missed her so much!” Pavitr really meant it, they barely saw her when she was TA but when they did it was always a joy. 

“Yeah, it’s gonna be great to work with her.” Gwen then looks around the cafe. “Hey Pav, since it's slow, why don't you take a break and hang out with us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah, me and Miles.” She points in the direction of where Miles was sitting. It seemed that he was lost in whatever he was writing, or was it drawing. He couldn't really tell. 

“Oh, um, I wouldn’t want to intrude! Besides, I am still working, never know when it needs to be all hands on deck.”

“Fine. But can you make me my usual and Miles some Chai. I swear he is addicted to it. What did you put in it to make him crave it all the time? Drugs?” She jokes.

“Of course not! I am just that good.” He smiles. “Anything you want to eat with it?” 

“You know what, can I get some strawberry cheesecake and for miles, get him two croissants buttered and toasted. I’ll pay for it now.” He nods. 

“I’ll bring it over to you guys when the order is done then.” Gwen hands him cash, and tells him thanks before walking back to where her friend was. As she seats down he goes to the coffee bar and gets started on the order. At least now he had something to do that wasn't just recleaning everything to look busy. As he started to focus on making the order, a certain someone was using him as a reference for his art studies. 

Miles was mesmerized by the way Pavitr moved while making their orders. The sun seemed to always hit him with the right lighting. His hair was so majestic, so dark and lucious, and his eyes were so bright and beautiful it pulled you in. He wanted to capture it in his art. Even though they were quick sketches, he was pretty satisfied with where the art direction was going. He was so focused he didn't notice Gwen calling him. 

“MILES!”

He jumped a bit and looked up to see Gwen just staring at him. 

“Oh! Hi Gwen, "he smiles. She gives him a sigh.

“What is up with you and Pav today?” She sits down next to him. “So what's got you all hyper focused?” She leans to look at what he is drawing in his sketchbook. A bad habit that he just accepted over the years that she will forever be nosy and can never control her curiosity.  She looks at his sketches and then at him with a raised eyebrow. “Pav?”

He looks away from her for a bit and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah. He’s just so mesmerizing, I had to draw him. You don't think he would mind right?”

Gwen chuckles. “I don't think he will mind once he sees the work when you’re finished with it. Are you sure it's only cause he is mesmerizing?” Miles, knowing what she was implying, shakes his head. 

“It ain't like that. I just thought he would be nice to draw ya know.” He turns back to continue drawing Pavitr. 

“Yeah right. Just like how you drew me before in high school cause I was nice to draw.” She teases. 

“That was different. I just met him, plus I didnt even introduce myself. He doesn't even know my name.”

“He does. I’ve talked about you to him before.” She mentions nonchalantly.

“That doesn't count, I have not introduced myself as anything other than the customer you corrected the other day.” He looks at Pavitr making the drinks to see what new position he was in to quickly sketch. “Anyway. When does your shift start?”

“In about an hour and a half. So I get to bug you more!” She lightly punches his shoulders. He just rolls his eyes and smiles. Gwen is one of his best friends, every just flows so naturally when they are together. They just vibe. He sometimes sees her as an annoying sibling that likes to bother him from time to time. His father could attest to that, calling her an emo leech who liked to come over and eat. Even though he wouldn't say it out loud he was very fond of her, like a reluctant uncle who has an honorary niece he had no say in. 

About 15 minutes later, he started to try and add more details to the quick sketches he made of the barista while Gwen was talking to him about how her band were prepping to do more shows and the difficulty to get everyone's times synced up.

“Yeah, our lead guitarist is also very inconsistent even though he usually has the most time out of all of us. Though I will say, I do enjoy being a part of this band more than the last one.” 

“That's great you finally found one that suits you. I know you’ve been looking for one ever since I met you.” 

“Yeah, now if only we can sync up so I can play more. Margo said she could help us with our scheduling problem. I believe in her, if anyone can help us organize our messy style it's her.”

Margo was a computer science major, and was practically a tech wiz. She was also extremely detail oriented and particular with her things. It was really funny because Ganke was the opposite of her while also being a tech wiz. They would always group up together even though they clash with how they do things. If you ask them why they always partner up they’ll tell you that it's convenient because they have so many classes in common.  

“Thank Pav!” He hears Gwen say, taking him out of his train of thoughts. He looks up from his sketchbook to see Pavitr places their order in front of them giving them a smile that rivals the sun.

“No problem! I hope you guys enjoy!” 

“We will!” Gwen grabs her drink and takes a sip. “Pav, I don't think I have properly introduced you to my friend. Pav this is Miles, he’s been my best friend since sophomore year in high school. Miles this Pav the chai activist.” She teases. 

Pavitr hesitates to respond but Miles does not. 

“Hey man, it's nice to finally properly be introduced to you. I realized I never gave you my name before, sorry ‘bout that.”  He gives him a small smile. 

“That's no problem! I know our first meeting wasn’t the best, sorry about that.” Pavitr rubs his neck a bit nervously. 

Miles gives him a small chuckle. “Its no problem man. Like I said before I didn't mind being corrected. At least I won't be sayin ‘Tea Tea’ anymore. Feel free to tell me any other things I may be sayin wrong.”

“Well people like to say ‘naan bread’ which is the same as saying ‘bread bread’.” Miles groans in response.

“Youre kiddin! I've been saying ‘bread bread’ this entire time?!” 

Pavitr laughs and relaxes, he finally apologizes and it seems he really was worried for no reason. Miles was very respectful and liked to lighten the mood. He can see why Gwen liked to hang out with him a lot. 

“Well now you know.” He teases. He sees Miles take a sip of the chai he had just made.

“Man, this really hits the spot. You know your stuff.”

Pavitr’s skin turns a bit redder at the compliment. “Thanks.” 

Just then a group of teenagers walked into the cafe which caused Pavitr to sigh. He was just getting to know Miles but he guesses the conversation would be cut short for another time. 

“Looks like duty calls for me. I guess we have to cut this conversation short.” He pouted a bit.

“Don’t worry Pav, we can always talk later when I work on shift. Plus Miles will be coming here more often. He said he likes the cafe vibes. I think he is really here cause I’m so awesome he can't handle not havin our vibe sessions as much.” She jokes.

“Yeah right. I’m glad I don't have to see your face as often. Plus who said I am coming for you, if anything it's Pavitr’s Chai that’s bringing me in here.” Miles jokes back to switch Gwen just rolls her eyes. 

“Sure buddy, whatever you say. I know you love me.”

Pavitr chuckles as he walks away. “Well I’ll talk to you guys later! Enjoy your stay Miles!”

“Hey! What about me?” Gwen shouts a bit to him.

“You're gonna be working later!” He responds before arriving at the coffee bar.

Gwen groans. “He’s right. I do love working here even if not all the customers are great.”

“At least you have me here to keep you company. You can’t get rid of me easily.” Miles gives her a pat on the shoulder. 

“Yeah you're right. Are you gonna stay the whole time? You know I can go home by myself.” Miles just shakes his head.

“My parents would kill me if I don't walk you back late. I know you can handle yourself but you're like my sister I gotta make sure you get home safe.”

“Yeah, thanks Miles. I appreciate it.”

“It's no problem!” He goes back to continue his art trying to capture Pavitrs essence on paper. Gwen peeks again to see his process. 

“You sure you're drawing Pavitr just for reference?” She teases.

“Oh shut up!”

Prev ~ Next

Tagged List:

@ar1-thecat, @marrz-sucks, @amaterasusanowo, @l3m0n4d3-st4nd @aesthetichoney2111

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

A Cup of Tea and Paracetamol pt 2/?

I’m back with part 2! Sorry for the delay, last weekend was wildly busy. This part features a staunchly miserable Elijah, so I hope you guys enjoy that. Unedited, basically unread by me until I look at it later and hate myself for a random spelling/grammar mistake. Part one can be found here, if you’re interested in reading that/understanding what’s going on in this part lmao. I’m thinking this is going to be 3 parts, and the final one should be up later this week (hopefully. No promises lol). 

OH ALSO I am very much so not from England, I’ve never been outside the US so I’m sorry if I say something that sounds super weird or wrong about England. Just go ahead and pre-suspend your disbelief that basically no cold medication can be found in London while you’re at it. This is fiction and it’s at the mercy of what makes my characters the most miserable lmao. 

Enjoy!

cw: male sneezing, colds, contagion is mentioned but not explicitly in this part

A Cup of Tea and Paracetamol (pt 2)

“Stop laughing.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m not laughing, I’m getting it together,” Greyson took a deep breath slowly, but it came out once again as a squawk of a laugh. Elijah elbowed him hard in the arm before snatching his bag off of the moving carousel.

“You’re an ass,” Elijah grumbled, moving towards the exit.

“Boss, hey, I’m sorry, man,” Greyson said jogging a bit to keep up with Elijah. “But I mean, come on. It is kind of funny.”

“I literally cannot think of anything less funny,” Elijah said, pulling his hand sanitizer out of his pocket for the millionth time that day and squirting the last of it on his hands. “That was a fucking nightmare.” The sick man Elijah had been sitting next to literally couldn’t have done a worse job of keeping his germs to himself; he had basically sneezed and coughed for the entire seven hours, minus maybe thirty minutes of snoring with his open mouth facing Elijah. Greyson hailed a cab as Elijah shuddered; at least it was over.

“We’re gonna have to find an English CVS or something,” Greyson mused. “Do they have Emergen-C here?”

“I have no idea,” Elijah said, massaging his temples before opening the cab door. “Let’s just get away from this godforsaken airport.”

The ride to the hotel was thankfully quick, and by some miracle, the gift shop in the lobby did stock Emergen-C. Greyson and Elijah loaded up, dropped their things in the room, and headed out to dinner. Their first day was completely blown because of the flight and the time difference, so over their meals Elijah was busy texting the contact for the event.

“What’d she say about the product we ordered?” Greyson asked, his leg bouncing nervously under the table. Elijah gave him a pointed look and showed the chef his text stream with the contact – a woman named Samantha.

“She said she has it all,” he said as Greyson read through their texts. “Stop worrying so much.”

Greyson snorted. “That’s rich coming from you,” he said, taking a bite of his sandwich. “The king of fuckin worrying.”

“It’s a festival event, Grey. We’ve done a thousand of them. It’s not like we’re doing it in Mumbai and we don’t speak the language.” Greyson shrugged and Elijah sent off another text.

“Okay,” Elijah said, clapping his hands together. “Tomorrow: prep. It’s 1,000 portions, if we get to the kitchen at seven, it’ll probably take us ten hours to get everything done.”

“Seven?!” Greyson asked, incredulous. “Isn’t that like three in the morning our time?”

Elijah shrugged. “We have to get it done, Grey. We don’t have the team help us; I think the event provides a couple of culinary students, but that’s it. It’s gonna be a long one.”

Greyson groaned and put his head in his hands. “Fine,” he said after a moment of mourning his sleep. “But I’m gonna complain the whole time.”

Elijah chuckled as he flagged the server. “I’d expect no less.”

***

Greyson peeled his eyes open at the ass-crack of dawn to see that the bathroom light was on and the shower was running. Jesus christ, he thought, does Elijah ever fucking sleep?

The chef rolled unceremoniously out of bed and grudgingly shoved his legs into jeans and his arms into his chef coat. It was so goddamn early. He was so goddamn tired. While buttoning his chef coat, Greyson fantasized about running away, skipping the event and just enjoying London like it was a vacation; beer and fish and chips in a dark pub, strolling through museums with no schedule, taking a long ass hotel nap and then going to a Michelin-starred restaurant for dinner. Yeah… now that sounded like a trip.

Just as he was about to pound on the bathroom door and ask if Elijah had fallen in, Greyson heard his boss’s breath hitch.

“hehh...huhNGTSH-uh!”

Oh, mother fucker.

“Lij…?” Greyson called into the bathroom. When he didn’t get an answer, he knocked tentatively. “Y’okay in there?”

Greyson heard nothing for a moment, the a sudden – “HGTSHH-ue!” Greyson set his jaw in anticipation, and just as he was about to knock again, Elijah opened the door.

“I’m good,” he said, his voice slightly lower than it usually was. “You ready?”

“Uh, yeah,” Greyson said, motioning to his getup. “Are you sure you’re alright? I heard you, uh… sneezing.”

“I’m fine, Grey, just steam from the shower. C’mon, we need to meet Samantha in the lobby in five minutes.”

Greyson followed Elijah silently to the elevator, and continued his silence as they descended to the lobby. He couldn’t lie; he was worried. Worried about his boss, a bit, but mostly worried about the event - if Elijah was sick, who was going to work the booth with him tomorrow? He couldn’t do it himself, he knew that much for sure, but, to be frank, he was fairly scared of invoking Elijah’s wrath by asking if he was sick, or even offering to get him medicine. Instead, while Elijah went through the finer details of the event with Samantha, Greyson snuck off to the giftshop, bought two bottles of water, and filled them both with Emergen-C. Before Elijah could notice he’d left, Greyson breezed back to the lobby and placed a bottle in his boss’s hand.

“What’s this?” Elijah asked as he waved goodbye to Samantha. Greyson shrugged.

“Emergen-C. Long flight, long couple days; better to be safe than sorry.”

Elijah gave Greyson a pointed look, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he unscrewed the cap of his water bottle and chugged half of it.

“Right,” he said, screwing the cap back on. “Let’s go check out the kitchen.”

***

Not to be dramatic, but Elijah really wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through the weekend.

It was about seven hours into prepping the short rib nacho they were serving for tomorrow’s event, and Elijah’s eyes were drooping at even the thought of another seven hours. He’d definitely been entirely too optimistic about his and Greyson’s abilities to get this knocked out in ten hours; the culinary students he’d assumed would be helping them prep were, as it turned out, scheduled to help run the booth tomorrow, not cook with them today. Elijah and Greyson were balls-deep in chopping, searing, frying, and basting with no end in sight. And it really didn’t help that Elijah couldn’t seem to get one little thing under control.

“hehhNGTHSH-uh! HGSTH-oo!” Elijah sneezed into his elbow for what felt like the billionth time that day and sniffed as hard as he could before returning to slicing potatoes on the mandolin.

“Careful,” Greyson said, also for the billionth time. “Do you want me to take those over, boss? We really can’t have you slicing your finger off.”

“Ndo,” Elijah said, wincing at how his own voice sounded. “I’mb good.”

Whatever monster of a cold the man on the plane had had yesterday, it certainly traveled quickly. Elijah had woken up that morning with a scratchy throat and slightly runny nose, and now at just after noon he was fairly sure he was dying. “HETSSHCHH-ue!”

“Bless,” Greyson said, curt. At the beginning of the day, Greyson had been sympathetic – almost overly sympathetic, bordering on neurotic. He’d offered to buy Elijah medicine in the gift shop, which Elijah had staunchly declined until about ten am. After the third offer, Elijah had broken down and given up on the ‘I’m-not-sick-I’m-totally-fine’ charade. “Fine, yes, find me what they have.”

But Greyson had come back empty-handed, with exception of the mystery drug the man on the plane had requested yesterday – paracetamol. After a quick google search, they found out it was pretty much just tylenol.

“Tylenol??” Elijah had asked, dumbstruck. “That’s really all they have?”

Greyson had nodded. “I asked the woman at the front if there was, like, a drug store somewhere that sells dayquil and she had no idea what I was talking about.”

“You have got to be fucking shitting – HGTSHH-oo! Huhh...hehESTCHHH-ue! Snf.” Elijah wiped his face on his sleeve, defeated. “Shittigg mbe.”

He was not. A call to a local drugstore confirmed that dayquil and nyquil weren’t available in the UK, and their best bet was going to be the paracetamol. Elijah had tried to stifle a groan, and Greyson had offered his sympathy.

“I’m sorry, boss,” he said as he browned the short ribs in a huge tilt skillet. “I can ask the front desk to make you some tea?”

After Elijah had grumbled something about hating tea, Greyson had sighed and seemingly given up on the niceties. Now, several hours later, he had taken to not even mentioning Elijah’s condition.

“HRETSSHHOO!” This one caught Elijah off-guard, and he ended up doubled over his legs with his arms over his head to keep from contaminating the food. “Mbother fucker,” he mumbled, moving towards the hand washing station to blow his nose. From across the kitchen, Elijah heard Greyson sigh.

“Boss,” he called as Elijah threw away a handful of paper towels. “Go take a break.”

“Grey, we have so mbuch left to do. I’mb not leaving you.”

“Lij, please. Just go lay down for an hour or something, I literally am standing here with my stomach in my asshole freaking out that you’re not going to be able to do the event tomorrow, so please please just go and take a nap with some tea. Please.”

Elijah raised an eyebrow at Greyson and coughed lightly into his fist. “What the fugck are you talkigg about?” he asked, walking closer to the chef.

Greyson ran a nervous hand through his hair, then, noticing what he’d done, snapped the gloves off his hands and threw them in the trash with much more force than was necessary. “I’m just worried, dude, like you look like fucking hell. You look like you’re going to fuckin keel over, and I literally cannot do this event by myself. I can’t, Lij.”

Elijah huffed out a laugh that turned into a dry cough. “Greysond,” he said, as gently as he could muster, “I don’t care if I have two brokend arms and two brokend legs. I’mb going to be at the event. Okay? It’s a cold. I’mb fuckigg miserable, but it’s a cold. It’s gonna be fine.” He placed a careful hand on the chef’s shoulder and shook him lightly. “Okay?”

Greyson let out a shaky sigh. “Okay,” he said. “Good,” Elijah said, giving his friend’s shoulder a squeeze. “But you’re right about onde thing: we ndeed a break. And I think I mbight take you up ond – HGSTHH-oo! HRSHH-uh! Huhh…hhNGSTHH-ue!” Elijah groaned into the sleeve of his shirt and took the paper towel Greyson held out to him. “Ond the fuckigg tea.”

[leebrontide]

Secondhand Origin Stories, Chapter 12

Here's this week's chapter! Reblogs welcome!

For those of you just joining us, I'm posting a chapter a week of my free near future scifi/low neon cyberpunk YA/NA novel, Secondhand Origin Stories, which has been described as

"-a character driven, compelling story full of family, queerness, corruption, brain altering nanites, secretly teen parenting AIs, and taking aspects of the superhero genre to their very human and rarely-explored natural conclusions."

For an index of already uploaded chapters that hopefully I will remember to update, content warnings and more, check here:You can follow along by following #SHOSweekly

Chapter 12

The next morning, Jamie was pleasantly surprised that she could get Aldis to let her help out around the office. She didn’t ask to go with the trucks, since obviously she’d ruin the “super-movers” image, but at least she could carry flat boxes to and from the ground floor garages for the pack-and-move client they had later that day. Then she inventoried boxes and tape, and headed back to the office. Being productive kept her out of her head and away from her phone. She just wasn’t ready yet.

She was a little surprised to find Aldis at the office desk when she went back upstairs.

“Morning. I--”

Issac poked his head in the office. “I’m headed out to lunch.” He looked at Jamie. “How do I look?”

Jamie regarded him for a second. The suit was fine. Issac, on the other hand... “Kind of sick.” Maybe he shouldn't have joined Yael in eating leftover birthday cake for breakfast.

He fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeves, tugging them down. “I didn’t end up sleeping a lot last night.” He held up his wrist, the translation bracelet glimmering inside his sleeve. “Software tweaks. Got a restaurant business meeting. It’s gonna be way worse than the grocery store.”

“Hope you plan to share those tweaks,” Aldis suggested cheerfully.

Issac shrugged. “Sure, why not. There must be a forum or something.”

“Hold on,” Jamie ordered, and ran back down the hall to the VIP suite. Her assisting Aldis had coincidentally kept her out of the apartment long enough for Opal to shower and get dressed.

Jamie found her bags and started rummaging. “I just need to find--” When she looked up, Yael was staring sullenly at the window, still laying on the “bed” they’d made by shoving the couches end to end. Xe was wearing a t-shirt declaring that “every pizza is a personal pizza if you try hard and believe in yourself.” 

“Yael, shouldn’t you have left already? Is that really what you’re wearing?” She realized after she’d said it how much she sounded like her mom. She found what she was looking for in her bag.

Opal leaned over the back of the couch. “You should probably take this kind of seriously. If I had an interview with the head of the APB, I would be trying to look as superheroic as possible. Especially if my brother was skating by on nepotism and a sketchy job to avoid getting arrested.”

Yael looked up at Opal, then sighed. “Fine. For Issac, then.” 

Opal rolled her eyes just slightly at Yael’s grudging acceptance, then glanced at Jamie, expecting to find sympathy. 

Jamie smiled back, wishing Opal’s smile looked less sad.

“Hey.” Yael lifted xyr phone, tilting xyr head back to look up at Opal. “Ambiguously-superheroic-teen selfie? I won’t post it anywhere.”

Yael was on some kind of kick. Xe’d insisted on taking pictures of Issac with his cake last night, too. Opal raised an eyebrow, but crouched down at the couch and gave Yael’s camera a dubious smile.

Jamie headed back down the hall, where she found Issac standing, talking to Aldis. “Here, Issac, sit down a sec.”

He sat down in an old brown office chair, watching her curiously. She revealed the bottle of concealer she’d brought, just in case. “You’re not usually as pale as me, but today, this might actually work.”

“I look that bad?”

Aldis leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “ ’Fraid so.”

Issac bit his lip. “OK, but only if you’re sure he won’t notice.”

“How old is he?”

“Like, 60ish?”

“Then he won’t notice,” Jamie assured. “Besides, it’ll be lower restaurant lighting.”

She helped him get the concealer on. He was almost as gun-shy about anyone touching the bags under his eyes as he was about the contacts. She hid the bruises lack of sleep had left on him, and brushed the color back onto his face. “There. You don’t look like you’ve been doing anything you’ve actually been doing.”

“You never even wear makeup,” Issac commented, checking his reflection in the mirror of his phone screen. 

“Putting on fake health is the only part I know how to do.”

Issac adjusted his tie another dozen times, then headed out towards the stairs in time to run into Yael, who was still in xyr pizza T-shirt. Jamie watched the two of them descend. Opal waved at them through the glass in the door as she followed them. She looked so miserable.

 Jamie looked around the office for a marker. Aldis went back to typing, then looked up at her. “I know I’ve said it like ten times, but you really don’t have to do this. I appreciate it and all, but it feels kinda like unpaid child labor.”

Jamie found a Sharpie, but it was purple. Was that OK? “I need something to do. And I’m sixteen.”

“Don’t you have, like, studying to do?”

Jamie shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t have to do it every day, and I’m still on track to finish everything I need way before I’m eighteen. Mom won’t let us go to college offline any younger than that.”

He nodded slowly, taking more from that than Jamie would have thought it contained. “Well, don’t overdo it.”

“You’re not going with the truck?”

He shook his head, settling back into his work. “Today is invoices and email. You’d be amazed how much of my time is that.”

Jamie smirked, trying to believe he was staying for work, not to babysit Jamie. “No I wouldn’t. Mom says she spends half her life emailing. And she’s always talking about company finances.”

“Hah. Guess your mom is an entrepreneur, isn’t she.”

“Yep. Her and Jenna started the company right after graduation. Jenna went to college really young. Mom says that’s why she won’t let us go early. Jenna got picked on a lot.”

“Jenna-- Bion?” he asked. 

Jamie nodded. “Is it OK if I use purple Sharpie to relabel the box cubbies? They need it.”

“Sure. Long as it’s readable, I don’t care.”

Jamie nodded, heading back towards the stock room, but stopped at the door. Would it be rude to ask? Aldis seemed nice, laid-back, but it wasn’t like she knew him well. And she really didn’t know if this was a sensitive subject or not.

But he was tall, and given the hauling everyone around here could do, he was strong. Curiosity got the better of her. “Hey, uhm. Can I ask you something a little personal?” His raised eyebrow and chair swivel suggested she may have crossed a line. “I won’t complain if you say no.”

“Well, now I’m curious. Tell you what. You can ask, and then we’ll see if I want to answer.”

Jamie nodded. That was more than fair. “I was just-- you’re taller than Drew, and maybe stronger, since you’re younger. And you help people, so I can tell you care, so-- why aren’t you a superhero? Or any of the rest of your employees? Why move furniture?”

She expected him to tell her about the racial prejudice in the APB, or about the difficulties with networking if you didn’t know someone. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, and gave her an opaque look. “Why do you think I’d want to be a superhero?”

The question was so bizarre she just stared at him for a long moment. “Why wouldn’t you?”

He scratched behind his ear, tilting his head as if he was as confused by her as she was by him. “They get shot a lot. Also electrocuted, burnt, dismembered…”

“But they get to help people!” Somehow, she couldn’t picture Aldis as a coward. He seemed so self-assured and put together. He was an entrepreneur, like Mom. That involved risk and leadership.

“So do we. And, since I got the choice, I’d rather help people without having to hurt anybody else.” Jamie bristled, and he saw it. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad we’ve got superheroes. But if I can run the rest of my life without violence, I’m going to.”

“But what about ‘with great power--’” 

He laughed, but it wasn’t mean, just surprised. “A superhero can defend the world from supervillains, but somebody’s still got to haul around furniture, create decent jobs, and look out for people in a bad situation trying to start over. There’re more problems superheroes can’t handle than ones they can.”

“Aren’t you proud of Opal, though?”

“Yeah, I’m proud of her! We all are. She’s got a fire in her, and she’s working for it. But her life is hers, and mine is mine. Honestly, though, I’ve got as much respect for her second-guessing it now. She refuses to be part of the problem. That’s character. I hope it works out for her, but I’m glad she’s gonna do it on her terms. And I can’t pretend we wouldn’t all sleep a little easier at night if she took a safer job.” 

Jamie’s heart sank. “She’s really thinking of quitting, just because of my dad?” 

“Personally, I think there’s more she’s not telling me.” Sure, like Jenna’s arms and legs and absence, maybe. She didn’t know what exactly Opal had told him. Like Opal, he probably filled in the gaps with whatever made sense to him. “But taking a kill order from someone you can’t trust isn’t a little thing.” He looked at her, carefully. “Do you think she should trust him?”

The question caught her off-guard. She had to think about it. She didn’t like her own conclusion. “No,” she quietly answered, finally. “I’m not scared of him. He didn’t hurt me, and I still don’t think he would’ve. But he loves me, and he doesn’t love Opal, and there’s something…wrong with him. Right now. He’s not himself.”

“Probably shouldn’t be a superhero, then.”

The idea of Dad not being a superhero didn’t fit into her head. He was ageless. He’d been a superhero long before Jamie, and it’d always seemed like he’d just keep on being a superhero even after Jamie was gone. She’d realized years ago that someday he’d look like her son, not her father. He was the constant the rest of life changed around.

Except that he had changed.

She looked at Aldis blankly for so long, he started to look at her funny. “I should go label the cubbyholes,” Jamie said.

He nodded, seeing through her, but letting it go. He interrupted her retreat. “Hey. You’ve got pretty impressive power, too.” Jamie turned around, baffled. “You can talk to any superhero you want, I bet.”

Jamie nodded, not sure where this was going. “Any of the US ones, anyway.”

“Plus, your mom. Who seems like a heavyweight in politics and bioengineering.”

“I hope I can talk to her.”

He gave her a sympathetic look. “I’ve been there. Opal was light on details, but I hope it works out for you.”

“It’s. I don’t think it’s as bad as it looks.”

“You’re still here, though.”

She shrugged. “Issac needed me to be.”

The VIP suite was different when she was by herself. Bigger, more echoing. It smelled like sausage, frosting, cardboard, dust, and what had to be some shower product of Opal’s. Jamie was sure neither Yael or Issac owned fake-strawberry-scented body wash. Home never had this many smells going on in one space; the air was too aggressively filtered.

She meandered over to the threadbare couches. This might be the most alone she’d ever been. Aldis was down the hall, but there wasn’t any SI-- no system with cameras, here. No family around. She leaned over the back of the couch, looking around for something to do. Yael had washed the dishes. Jamie wasn’t sure she could even get into her school files. There was only one thing in the world she was supposed to be doing, and she still didn’t feel ready to call home. 

The need to accomplish something started to itch in the back of her mind. She dug her guitar out from where she’d subtly stashed it. Issac hadn’t commented on her bringing it. She started tuning it. 

Too many thoughts went spinning through her mind. Nobody here would tell her what to do or not do. She finally had freedom to act, but had no idea what to do with it. 

What had she wanted more freedom for?

The windows here were low to the ground, and not as clear as the ones at home. But there was some sky visible. No cityscape, though. She was in the city now, not above it. What had she wanted to do, out here?

Out of the blue, she remembered her carnival narwhal, left on the floor at home. Of Dad flying her up to “save” it. The feeling of flying, of helping. 

“Martin, can you hear me?”

No answer. They’d meant it, about the privacy, then. She picked up her phone. Their number had been added to her contacts, and she called it. Martin picked up before it even rang. “Jamie! Hello! May I use the video function? Did you get my email this morning?”

Jamie smiled awkwardly, and arranged her phone so Martin could see her, sitting on the concrete floor. “Sure. And no, I haven’t checked my email yet.” She went back to tuning. “You email?”

“I email a lot, actually. I’m on a lot of forums, too.”

Jamie wasn’t allowed on forums outside of schoolwork. Security issues. Nobody to stop her, now. “What did you email about?”

“It’s very long…sort of everything I’ve collected that I wanted to show you for about the last three years. Nothing important.”

Her tuning stopped. Martin had waited all this time, wanting to talk to Jamie. They hadn’t trusted Jamie enough to actually talk to her, though. Just like how Jamie was struggling to trust the generation above her. “Well, I don’t have much to do today. I’ll read it.”

She started to let her fingers run through tunes aimlessly. “How is everybody?”

“My privacy protocols are still in place. I can’t tell you about the others.”

Jamie slouched against the side of the bed. “Right.” She stared out the window again. “I’m going to call home. I’ll figure out some way to make sure you stay safe.” She was sure of that much. She just didn’t have any idea how. 

Really, she knew what she’d wanted freedom for. She knew what she’d wanted to do, out in the real world. She wanted to protect her city. Her home, and her family, and all the strangers who went about their lives around her every day.

She rested her forehead on the headstock of her guitar, growling in frustration. She could do whatever she wanted, out here. The only one who could stop her was her own body. It wasn’t even that bad of a body. It worked the majority of the time. But it wasn’t super. It wasn’t ever going to let her to anything extraordinary. “I’m lying. I can’t make you safe.”

“I don’t feel especially unsafe right now.”

“Me either,” she answered. “But it’s possible we’re both in denial.”

* * *

Physical labor didn’t require very much of Opal’s mind. Usually, that was a good thing. Her body could be hauling a couch, while her mind was working away at her future plans and dreams.

Today, not so much. She’d never give up just because someone told her “no,” but she’d never, in all her years of planning, studying and preparing, considered that she might not be able to trust the Sentinels enough to work with them. She’d always focused on the changes she wanted to carry out with the APB. She’d never considered that the Sentinels were really, at their base, just an APB branch. Why would they be any more trustworthy?

“Hey!” Miguel's shout shook her back into the present. She’d almost run him over with an armchair.

“Sorry!”

“You’re at work. Wake up.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Hey, give her a break. She might have to fight LodeStar tomorrow or something,” Jayvon put in.

“Not funny, Jayvon,” Opal grumbled.

“I’m not kidding. You wont give us details, but his kids are suddenly living in the suite? Something bad went down. And if he’s not here helping, it doesn’t look good.”

“You better not have told anyone that they’re here.”

They both gave her unimpressed looks. “We’ve worked here longer than you. We’d never tell about somebody in the VIP suite.”

And it really didn’t seem like they had. Otherwise, the office would be inundated with news vans, or at least camera drones, and so far, she hadn’t seen anything. Jayvon gently took the armchair from her. “Go take a break. Get your head clear, and come back.”

Miguel nodded. “We’re ahead of schedule, anyways. Just don’t take forever with it.”

Opal slunk out of the fancy manor house, thankful and feeling guilty for it. She ducked behind the van, hoping the home’s owners wouldn’t come out to chastise her for slacking. She leaned her head back against it, enjoying the sun on her face for a long couple minutes. But the world wasn’t going to stop for her crisis of conscience. Last night was as close as she was going to get. 

She’d said she was giving up. Quitting this and finding a new dream just made sense. No matter what cute old baby photos Jamie came up with, Opal had to deal with the present.

But the very idea of it felt like cutting off part of herself and throwing it in the trash. She wasn’t sure how to make herself do it.

And even if she wasn’t a superhero, she was still herself. Even if she didn’t want APB endorsement, she still wanted to help. To protect. And those three weirdos were under her hospitality, now. Maybe Jayvon was right-- maybe she should be worried about how Mr. Voss would react to her helping his kids practically run away from home. She might be running low on hope, but there was still work for her to do.

She thought of Capricorn’s hand on Mr. Voss’s arm in the clinic, of his watchful eyes. Of the way he rooted for Opal and said she had grit. If anyone could get her more information, it’d be him. 

She glanced around the van, but nobody was paying attention to her. 

Opal texted Martin quickly. Is there any reason I shouldn’t talk to Capricorn about what happened yesterday?

The answer was instant. MARTIN: None whatsoever, as far as I can tell. 

She answered Guess I will then. Then yelped, as Martin took that as an instruction and put the call through. She put the phone to her ear, not wanting a visual call when she felt so shaken.

Capricorn sounded surprised, but pleased to hear from her. “Hi!”

“Hi,” Opal answered.

“Everything OK?”

No. Not at all. “Nobody’s hurt or anything.”

She heard a sigh of relief on the other end. “Then what can I help you with?”

Words tried to burst out of her, but she bit them back and tried to arrange them into tidy, polite lines. No matter how nice Capricorn had been to her so far, she couldn’t afford to offend him, now. Her voice shook, but only a little bit, and she honestly couldn’t tell if it was nerves or anger. “I want-- I need to know what’s wrong with Mr. Voss. Jamie says he didn’t used to be like this. But there is something wrong with him, and he’s freaking me out, and he scared Yael. Every time I see him, he looks about two seconds away from killing somebody.” Opal didn’t want to be that somebody, and she didn’t think she could stop him if he chose somebody else.

Silence on the other end of the line. She worried for a second that he might try and deny it. That would be worse, wouldn’t it? If the Neil Voss Jamie remembered and Opal had idolized had never existed in the first place? Opal heard a very quietly muttered “Shit.” Another pause. “This really isn’t my place--”

“I need to know. I’m sorry, sir, but they’re living with me now and I don’t even know what the situation exactly is. I need to know if he’s something I need to worry about.”

“No. God, no. He’s not--” A pause so long, she checked to see he hadn’t hung up. 

“OK.” He was quiet when he spoke. “That’s fair. You deserve to know. You’re right that he’s…struggling. The thing with this job is, it takes a toll on you.” He sounded tired. Sad. “And me, Neil, and Solomon, we can survive it. And we can heal. We heal fast, even. So can you. But fast isn’t always good. Neil’s been fighting since 2002, continuously. He’s broken and healed every bone so many times, his x-rays look like a city map. Seams everywhere. Soft tissue scarring-- if we heal before we get medical attention, things haven’t always been stitched or set back into place. Neil should’ve been retired years ago. He’s in constant, 24/7 pain. And he’s no lightweight about pain, believe me. I’ve seen what he can take, but for him, it never lets up. Some days, it’s more than he can take. But if he leaves, we’re a team of two, and they send a stranger into the house to live with us. To live with his kids. Or, he and the kids have to leave. He’s been trying to hold on long enough to train in Yael. He knows he’s a mess. He just can’t fix it.”

“But, that doesn’t…”

“The other part-- the reason you probably think he’s a drunk-- is that when you hurt all the time, eventually you have to do something about it. And it’s not like he can take an asprin and call it a day. Even if he wasn’t altered, that wouldn’t even touch what he’s dealing with. So…the thing is, he’s pretty dosed up. All the time, now. And since he caught Issac mid-fall, that was kind of the last straw for like seven of his joints. So he’s even more of a wreck, and on an even higher dose, than he has been. I don’t even know how he’s staying up.”

Opal could only connect the dots because she’d heard her mom talk about work. Chronic, severe pain. “Are you telling me that LodeStar has been high on narcotics for literally years?” There was a long, very not-comforting pause. “But then he shouldn’t be--”

“I know.”

“That’s completely--”

“Yeah.”

“And everybody’s just going along with this?”

“I tried to get him to retire. Melissa’s tried. Even Solomon’s tried. But we just-- none of us have it in us to make him. He’s my best friend. He has been for a long damn time. And he’s going to, just...he needs a little while longer.”

“So you all take orders from him like that?”

“No. Look, he’s messed up, but he knows he’s messed up. We haven’t taken orders from him in years. And I swear to you-- my hand to God-- in the field, he listens to me.” Opal thought back to the rumors that Capricorn was crushing on LodeStar. To the way he always had his eyes on him in interviews. It wasn’t a crush. He was keeping an eye on LodeStar because he knew he was compromised.

Opal leaned her head against the van. This was so messed up. This was not comforting at all. “But still though--”

“I know.” He sighed again, his voice even quieter. “I know. I know I’m on the wrong side in this. But this is the only family I have. I just can’t get myself to force it on him. I didn’t realize until yesterday how bad he’d gotten. But you might notice, we haven’t exactly been in the field since this went down. I can tell you that’s not an accident.”

Opal closed her eyes, trying not to groan out loud.

“Look, I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you. How are the kids?”

“They’re fine, I guess?”

“Think they’d be up for visitors?”

“As far as I know, nobody’s mad at you. But I’m gonna tell them what you told me.”

“If you want. I was hoping Neil would get his act together enough to own it in front of them, but he’s down for the count with that broken collar bone.” 

“Right,” she agreed miserably.

“I warned you it was a shit job,” he added, sounding sorry.

“Yeah, you did.” She straightened. “So I guess I’d better get back to my day job, then.”

“Tell the kids I said ‘hi,’ OK?”

“Sure.”

They hung up. 

Well, she’d known better than to expect Capricorn to pull some magic answer out of a hat and make everything OK again. At least he’d respected her enough to give her a clear answer. That was the only reason she was willing to trust everything else he claimed. 

Opal wanted to punch something. It wasn’t an urge she got a lot, but she felt it often enough to be used to shoving it down. What was she gonna punch-- the van? Denting Aldis’s van wasn’t gonna help anything. 

Her phone sighed, and she jumped. The screen said she was connected to Martin. “I’m so glad this is finally out in the open. It’s not as if not saying anything takes willpower-- I can’t break privacy protocols even when I want to-- but watching the fallout of people not talking has been very painful for me. I’m glad you’re going to tell the others.”

Opal leaned against the van. Martin’s sad little voice took some of the fight out of her. “Your family is a mess, pen pal.”

“Oh, I know,” Martin said. “Believe me, I know.” And Martin didn’t have an out like Opal did. 

“I’d fix it if I could,” she told them. 

“I still have hope. I think things could still turn out all right.” Hope. That was what Opal missed. Hope had given her strength. “Opal, if you go back to Detroit and decide not to be a superhero, will you still be my pen pal?”

Poor kid. “Sure. I’d like that.”

“I like being able to really talk to people directly, like this. This is so much easier.”

“Does that mean you’re going to tell the rest of your family about you?”

“I…maybe I’ll see how all of this ends up going, first.” Even the sweet robot kid didn’t trust these guys. “But since I can suggest things directly now, can I suggest you call someone to make you feel better? I don’t know you well enough to know who that would be, but you sound upset, and I think that would make you feel better. It makes me feel better!”

“Heh. That’s a really good idea. Thanks, Martin.”

“Happy to help!”

She pulled up her mom’s number. She had to get back inside soon-- if this was her only job, she’d better pay attention to it-- but a little Mom time might help clear her head. Plus, she had some questions to ask a nurse.

* * *

Issac peered into the window of the darkened restaurant, tucking his translation bracelet up into his sleeve. It was so ludicrously sensitive, a couple layers of fabric wouldn’t pose any problem at all. Lasansky knew it was there, obviously, since he’d been the one to put it on Issac. But the point of these damn things was to be discreet. He checked his reflection…though if his concealer was showing, he wouldn’t be able to make it out in a window reflection.

He was a brilliant engineer, years ahead of his time, with cool android eyes. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Lasansky probably wouldn’t be able to see the text on his eyes, anyway. He wondered if other people could. He should have checked the bathroom mirror last night.

God, his eyes itched.

He braced himself, and walked in, chin up, shoulders back. Looking nervous or unsure in a place like this would only draw more attention. Virtually everyone here was in a suit or some other business attire. He already stuck out by being young and bruised. He approached the maître d’, realizing with a little smile that his tweaks were working. He got a bit of errant text across his eyes, but he’d set it to a 1.5m radius of the bracelet, with additional alerts for a few key words, like his name. The maître d’ looked at him expectantly, and Issac choked for a second. Would he have to give his name? There were people right behind him. They’d hear. He leaned in a little, trying to be quiet. “I’m meeting Mr Lasansky.”

Martin said that nobody had reported on yesterday’s little exodus from the Plaza yet, but eventually, someone would notice that the kids of the Sentinels were out and comparatively unprotected. Issac was not going to rush that.

Looked like Lasansky hadn’t wanted to give out Issac’s name, either. The maître d’ showed Issac to a private room. That would have been the only thing even partially saving Issac, if Issac hadn’t gotten through those tweaks last night. Lasansky was sitting, leaned back comfortably in his chair, thumb moving over his phone screen. He didn’t look up until Issac sat across from him. Then he gave him that big, bleached-to-hell smile of his. Here’s the latest member of the Lasansky Securities family! Welcome to your first day at the new job.

Issac forced a smile. Family. Sure. He’d just functionally lost his parents, and he didn’t know this guy or anyone else who worked for him, but OK. If Lasansky wanted to call Issac family, Issac could bite his tongue and put up with it. At least in this “family” the criteria he’d be judged on would be concrete, knowable, and accompanied by paperwork he could see ahead of time. And he was deaf before he joined, before he’d been accepted. 

Issac couldn’t deny that the circumstances were weird and, OK, a little suspicious. OK, maybe more than a little. But Lasansky just really wanted Issac’s tech. Issac's skills. He valued what Issac had to offer. Better than back home.

Lasansky sat back, and seemed to study Issac himself for the first time. He smiled, shaking his head ruefully. Y’know, I feel for you. I really do. 

Noooo. Issac just wanted to talk about work. “Uhm…? I’m OK.”

He waved Issac’s baffled reassurance off. Oh, of course. Of course. I just keep thinking about that family of yours. That can’t have been easy to grow up with. Them having so little faith in you.

Was that what had happened? Definitely not with Jamie and Yael. They’d believed in him. They’d been wrong, but they had believed. 

“It wasn’t really like that. Mom got me all the tech I needed and everything--”

Ah. Lasansky answered with a sad, knowing expression. So it was only after-- He tapped his own ear. 

Stay neutral. Don’t flinch. Don’t look down. Tight smile. “Something like that.”

Lasansky nodded. Drummed his fingers on the table, creating unnecessary text noise. Y’know, it really is amazing how quickly people can turn on you, as soon as you show weakness. Right when you need them the most.

Issac looked away. What the hell was this? Issac couldn’t imagine Lasansky wanted Issac to have an emotional breakdown at a business lunch, so what the hell was with all this prodding? “You never did tell me why you were interested in me? I mean, in my work? You own prisons. Why get into medicine, now?”

Sterling nodded, gravely. Glad you’re paying attention. The fact is, Mr. Tillman, your technology could revolutionize the criminal justice industry. Eighty-three percent of our inmates report at least one event likely to result in brain injury. Think about that. I know you’ve seen the effects of a brain injury firsthand. Impulsivity, sudden nonsensical rages, paranoia, inability to think through their actions-- every one of these is likely to lead to dangerous criminal behavior. And as it stands, we can’t, in good conscience, let these people back out into the community. Imagine the kind of rehabilitation we could provide if we could treat these sorts of injuries. It’s this kind of forward-thinking, cutting-edge work that keeps us the APB’s only licensed prison provider. 

A knot undid itself in Issac's spine, and he grinned. “That completely makes sense. That would be huge.” 

OK, so Opal and Jamie didn’t like Lasansky. Opal missed her dad. Issac couldn’t fault her for that. And Jamie said they were over-incarcerating people, but that was the APB’s fault, really. And here was Lasansky, trying to help people in prison and reduce the prison population at the same time. That was hardly supervillainy. This was exactly the kind of work Issac wanted for his nanites. To help people be who they were supposed to be. Now he could prevent crime at the same time! Ha! He might even end up stopping more altered-specific crime than the team, over the course of decades. 

How many altereds became violent because an injury had robbed them of their self-control? How many of them weren’t who they were supposed to be? Issac knew not every brain injury was as severe or caused as huge of an effect as Jenna's, but he had no reason to think she was the only altered who’d been through that.

Lasansky seemed genuinely pleased by Issac's agreement. Exactly. You’re a big-picture guy, I can tell. Just the person we need to complete this team.

“Team?”

Sure! You didn’t think we’d make you do this all alone, did you? We’ve been tinkering with similar projects for quite a while now, and when your essay went out into the world, I thought, “Boy, what a shame he’s going to be busy for God knows how long with school, when he could be learning on the job!” But it looks like everything’s worked out, huh?

It actually did look like that. Issac smiled, much more genuinely. He wasn’t hearing, but maybe he was bouncing back, after all. Not being on Mount Olympus didn’t mean he couldn’t have a decent life. And if Lasansky could reach out to help people be better versions of themselves, so could Issac.

We’re just going to need the data from your original trial. We couldn’t have dreamed someone would be so bold that they’d test this on themselves. That took real stones. That’s gonna move this project up by years. Do you know how hard it is to get a permit to test on human subjects? Ha! Of course you do. But now, since you paved that golden road for us, it’ll be worlds easier. It’s already been shown to be nonfatal, even under a malfunction! 

Wait, what?

Lasansky reached across the table, put a hand on Issac's shoulder, and looked him in the eye. For once, he was completely earnest. I know you must hate walking around with such an obvious weakness, but the failure of that trial has helped get your work into the hands of people with the resources to make your dream real. And that failure, that’s only going to make it faster. 

Issac felt exposed. Obvious.

But vindicated. Nothing he’d been through would matter, if he could just get these nanites working and to the people that needed them. 

* * *

Yael plopped down on the designated park bench, stretching xyr arms along the back of it, xyr legs out in front of xyr. God above, xe did not want to be here. Xe wasn’t even a little ready to deal with Nodiah’s ability to throw xyr off balance. Everything in xyr life was already such a mess. Xe didn’t know what xe might end up saying to him-- or asking him. Papa’d said they’d talk about it. Xe didn’t need to hear it from Nodiah.

The park was nice, at least, aside from being searingly hot. Xe fiddled with xyr phone, reading an almost endless email Martin had sent overnight. Its tone was chipper, but nervous. Completely endearing. Martin’s memory was way better than Yael's. 

Yael's smile died on xyr lips. A secret artificial-- no, now Issac’s insistence on the term “synthetic intelligence” made sense, of course he wouldn’t want Martin to be called artificial-- a secret synthetic intelligence, then, in the plaza itself, watching an unsuspecting superhero team, and befriending an alienated bioengineer. Xe groaned, leaning further back on the bench. 

Yael couldn’t picture a good ending to this story.  

To most teens, the concept of supervillainy probably seemed abstract. Cackling evil madmen twirling their mustaches and building death rays. Papa hardly ever talked about the family he came from, but xe was pretty sure none of them had done much cackling or mustache-twirling.

Martin had sent Yael health statistics on xyr hamsters and, like, 12 apologies that they hadn’t found Skittles for xyr. Martin was sweet. They were trying. They were family.

Nodiah was prompt, of course, and too soon, xe could make out the imposing shape of xyr uncle walking from the parking lot towards the bench. Did he even own any jeans? Or anything other than suit pants? It was Saturday. Even Melissa didn’t wear suits on Saturdays.

Did he think of Papa as his brother? Did he even see Yael as family?

Xe wondered for the millionth time what sort of family Miriam and Ezekiel had been to Papa. Not for the first time, xe wondered if Ezekiel and Miriam had ever even seen the others as family. They’d had Yael. That didn’t suggest a sibling-type relationship. Maybe it was just Papa who saw his line as a family.

Yael hated how the membership on Yael’s mental list of who was “family” kept shifting around. Family was supposed to be forever, not change from day to day.

Xe couldn’t imagine Nodiah affectionately hoarding hamster videos for anybody. Or even leaving little piles of hamster bait around.

From a distance, surrounded by regular people, he seemed huge.

When he stopped a few feet from the bench, looking down at xyr with pinched lips and a considering gaze, xe met his eyes. He didn’t say anything, so Yael didn’t say anything. Xe watched him with open suspicion that matched his frank assessment. He sat next to xyr without a word, gazing over the park. Gradually, Yael let xyrself relax. The air felt like the whole city was submerged in stale bathwater, but xe was dressed for it, and watching the people was nice. 

Nodiah’s voice was as sober as his suit. “This is what I protect. This is the mission of your father, and every other superhero team in this country.”

Yael couldn’t object to that. The whole human life cycle was stretched out in front of them. There was a couple having a picnic on the grass, with their baby crawling around next to them. Over there, some little kids playing tag. Some other kids about Yael's age were playing basketball. A little ways away, two old women laughed loudly on another bench. 

Yael nodded. Wanting to protect a scene like this should be easy for anyone.

“For you,” he continued, “It’ll be harder. You’ll need to be be on your guard at all times to establish your character, to prove yourself trustworthy to the American people.”

“You came all this way to tell me that? I thought you’d be back in DC by now.”

“I came here to cover a duty your father’s obviously ignored.” Maybe he really was just looking for someone to talk to. “I’ve followed you, Yael. For as long as I have been able, I have watched you from a distance. Medical records, school reports, even the construction contracts from when you used to destroy walls in a tantrum. The records from when you broke Dr. Tillman's leg.”

“I never--” Yael objected.

“You were two years old. I’m not surprised they hid it from you.” Was that possible? Could Yael have hurt xyr family that long ago?

“How did you get it all?”

He looked at xyr out of the corner of his eye. “From Solomon, mainly. When it was outside my technical jurisdiction. That was his gift to me, and I accepted it.”

“But if you were so worried about me, then why haven’t we ever met?”

He pursed his lips. Yael studied him. His face wasn’t any more like Yael’s than Papa’s was. In his less-familiar face, it was more obvious that they looked almost the same age. Or they would have, if it weren’t for his suit. “Because I couldn’t afford to know you publicly. Your very existence is a threat to the safety of every altered in the US. To accept a family connection to you would be to fail to reject Ezekiel and Miriam, which the Secretary of the Altered Persons Bureau can not afford.”

One question answered, then. He’d already decided that they weren’t family. “Go, then.”

“Don’t be brash, Yael. You’re too big for it. Solomon gave me a gift, so I am repaying it by giving a gift to you. I’ve come to give you the warning that Solomon, your parents, and I never got, and that Solomon’s failed to give you. I know you’ve been raised on a steady diet of superhero and science fiction tripe. Cartoons and comic books and all that colorful propaganda. I’ve subsidized enough of the garbage, I know exactly what goes into those things. But I hope in all that, you were exposed to the older works-- novels, especially.”

Where was this going? “I mean, I read, if that’s what you mean.”

“But what have you read? We are the science fiction of former decades. They wrote about us long before we existed. When I came into the outside world, I knew enough to find out how they saw us. Dating back before our founders were born, I could find us in stories. Always the same. Gods, or monstrosities. We are Superman, or we are Frankenstein’s monster. And half the time, even if we would be Superman, we end up monsters anyway.”

“I’m not--”

“Of course you’re not,” he spat. “No one is. The wretched truth is that there are no angels or demons on this Earth. Just billions upon billions of humans. I have my own thoughts about what comes after this world, but I’ve seen too much of humanity to think anything but human instinct and the primal forces of nature rule here.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He turned, facing xyr fully. “Yael, I fought for my job for one reason and one reason only. To fend off peasants with pitchforks. This world doesn’t need us. We are made useful only because we are already here, and some of us need to be fought. The public tolerates superheroes because it knows there are supervillains. But those are the only two roles available. Who you are doesn’t matter, compared to who they judge you to be. No matter how strong we are, people will rise up and fight if they see a monster. And eventually, they will win. The presence of a scant few of us in colorful costumes convinces them we can handle it amongst ourselves. That military force isn’t needed. Your parents, Solomon, and I were built to conquer the world. And if we had, you would have been murdered in your cradle.”

The truth was too familiar to resist. Two roles. The one xe’d striven for all xyr life, and the one that stole xyr birth parents’ names out of Papa’s vocabulary. 

“I told you the truth in that basement. I won’t tell you anything but the truth. If you can’t make yourself into someone the public can trust, then I can’t condone any act of violence you perpetrate. No matter how just I may think it is.”

“What do you expect me to do? Change my hair? My face?”

Nodiah shook his head. “I can’t go on covering for you. Hopkins was bad enough. The other morning, on the lawn. And now this, with Voss. Don’t think for a moment we don’t know whose hands took LodeStar down. Your bloodline will be known, eventually. If you try to hide it, you’ll be a traitor, no matter how we try to spin it.”

“Then this is you telling me to give up.”

“This is me warning you to scrub yourself of anything that will taint your image further. No more disregarding the natural order by flip-flopping genders whenever you please. It is ridiculous and offensive. The ‘bisexuality’ is more than bad enough, but there is at least some precedence. No living in illegal tenements owned by shady ‘entrepreneurs’--”

“Aldis isn’t shady, he’s--”

“He flaunts his powers to make a buck. He keeps his nose clean in public, or I’d’ve had him locked up by now. But so far, at least, he keeps his goons in order, so I’ve let him be.”

“He helps--”

“Go home, Yael. Go back where you belong. Solomon’s done well atoning for his early mistakes. And Neil Voss may be a walking disaster with a very limited future, but his reputation is good. Capricorn can’t be helped, but at least he interviews well. His scandals are all decades old, now. He stays quiet. Keeps his head down between missions.

"Most importantly, Yael. You have to deal with the Tillman-Voss boy. I know you see him as a brother. He is on the wrong side of an oncoming fight, which is exactly where he flung himself. Put him on the right side, before it’s too late.”

“I don’t control him.”

“Try. Protect your family, Yael. Keep your own house clean. Solomon and I can barely stand to see each other for our shared shame. He can’t even bear to admit to you that he only has you because we failed your parents. They died, taking hundreds with them, because we fled instead of confronting them directly. Do not make the last generation’s mistakes. Stop him before it is too late. I am investigating Lasansky now. Once that is done, I will come for him. Make sure your brother is at a safe distance when that happens. This is your warning, Yael. Given only because you are who you are. You want to be a hero? Then prevent this altering technology from ending up in Lasansky’s hands. Be the person you need to be for the public to accept you in the role you want.”

“Investigating him for what? What do you want me to do?”

“Is Mr. Tillman-Voss a decent person?”

“Yes!”

“Then consider what a good person would give to make sure that technology that can reprogram the mind doesn’t get into the hands of a traitor. That is your yardstick.”

“Traitor?”

He stood, his voice gentling. “I believe in you, Yael. No matter how many walls you’ve wrecked, I think you’re more angel than devil, but you have to show them that. Be a hero. This is your chance, an opportunity to make yourself known for the right reasons. A chance to do what your father and I couldn’t do-- save your brother. If the Tillman-Voss boy is who you think he is, then protect him. By making sure he doesn’t get more blood on his hands than he can ever make up for. If he’s a good person, he would give his life rather than let that happen.”

Nodiah was 100% as upsetting as Yael expected. His life? Issac’s life? Who was Nodiah to demand or even hint at a sacrifice like that?

Yael could never let Issac die. No matter what he did. Xe could never watch him fall again.

Xe was just like Papa after all.

Xe searched Nodiah’s face, fighting down xyr silver. “This is a test.”

He shocked xyr by taking xyr hand. He held it tight-- xe thought he meant it supportively. “This is a chance. I pray it’s the only one you need, because it’s the only one I can give you. Do the right thing.”

Xe watched, dumbstruck, as he let go of xyr, turned, and walked back to his car without a backwards glance. 

Xe sat there a long moment. Yael pulled out xyr phone. To call Papa, or…Jamie, maybe. 

No Signal.

Yael blinked at the phone. Even in the sub-basement bunker, xe had a signal. Why on Earth would it fail xyr now? Xe looked up, just in time to see Nodiah getting back into an expensive but not ostentatious black car. Papa might say it was a sign that xe should take some time for contemplation. Reflection.

The phone beeped. Xe looked down. Xyr service was back.

Xe needed to get back to the others.

[homestuckdailyweekly]

Homestuck Daily - Week 1- 4/21/2024

I'm back, theoretical fuckers. I said I would probably give up in a week, and then a week later, there's no update. But jokes on you, person I made up to clown on, I didn't give up! I was busy traveling this weekend, so didn't have time to write a blog until right now. Don't worry, I'm not going to tell you about my trip. I'm planning on getting off-topic in these blogs, but a short trip is about as antithetical to being Stuck at Home that I could possibly get.

Now, with that out of the way, the first week of Homestuck. Or I guess, more accurately, the 2nd-8th days of Homestuck, written on the 9th day of Homestuck. Past-me really fucked me by writing an actual update on 4/13 instead of just the intro, and I really should figure out a consistent structure to these blog updates, but that feels more like a future-me problem. And if she gets upset, well, she's the one who procrastinated on it to begin with, so won't she feel silly. Wow, the third paragraph and I still haven't talked about the actual contents of the comic. Lets change that! I'll include what I read today too, so up to page 77 of Homestuck. Just to get it out of the way, while thinking about this first week of Homestuck, I came to the conclusion that I don't think I would have kept up with the comic if I had been a true day-1 reader. That is not to say I don't enjoy this first week of comics. However, my initial read-through of Homestuck was an extreme binge where I just kept reading until I physically could not anymore. I did not have to wait a day to get what was coming next. And this hypothetical "Day 1 Reader" version of myself would not have the enjoyment of future story beats and fondness of the characters to stay engaged and up-to-dates with early Homestuck. With personal reflections over and done with, I guess I should give a quick overview of what's happened in the first week of Homestuck?

We are introduced to the first of John's friends, TG, who is messaging John asking if he has the Beta yet. Shenanigans Occur, including Sylladex-Fuckery, clever-Disguise Making, Harlequin-hating, Grandma-Urn-Toppling, Grandma-Urn-Fixing, the usual. We then meet John's second friend, TT. Then some more shenanigans, and then entering Dad's study, ending with a haunting piano refrain that is both our first [s] page and our first piece of music.

Here's a little more self-reflection, coming up with summaries is hard. And it's only going to get harder with time. Anyways, for future reference, I think I will try my best to keep plot summaries free of the curse of knowledge. And hopefully future updates will have less me making up what these updates look like as we go along.

Alright, so I said I won't talk about my trip, but the thing to know about me is that I'm a liar and a cheat, so I'm going to talk about the trip a little bit. I'm not going to dox myself by saying where I went or where I'm from, but I will say that of the 4 kids in Homestuck, I live closest to the Lalonde residence. When I realized I could pass by the theoretical location of the Lalonde residence via a very scenic route I thought "Oh that'd be fun, but I probably shouldn't base my travel plans on a whim." Then I thought I would be introduced to Rose the day I was driving, and I realized I couldn't possibly ignore that sign. (I later learned that I was, in fact, supposed to be introduced to her the night prior. my schedule has increasingly became a disappointment in terms of accurate end-points for each day of comics). So, I plotted my day's travel to take me past the real-life equivalent of the Lalonde House's coordinates, but sadly in real life it is the site of a water power plant and I was unable to stop close enough to get a picture. I also ended up in hotel room number 314 that night, and according to a friend, "backward Homestuck numbers are still Homestuck numbers".

In very silly news, I'm working on finding a good chumhandle/Title to go along with my initials EV. Since this week was our introduction to pesterchum and 3 different chumhandles, this updates seems the best time to mention it. I think I've settled on Erstwhile for the E, but the V is being tricky. I initially went with Viewer, but it seems too plain. ErstwhileVoyeur, while sounding more interesting, also has connotations I don't necessarily want. Perhaps ErstwhileVoyage, to convey this entire experiment in the metaphor of a journey. I'll think on it some more. Until next week, when I'll hopefully spend more than a tenth of the blog talking about the actual comic, -EV

[iamthecomet]

-flops into your ask box like I'm plopping down on a bed-

First and foremost... I has been a bit since I last dropped by, so a life update is in order I'd say.

Our hours have changed at work, so I'm leaving the house earlier and working later, which has been an adjustment, but not an unwelcome one.

I am no longer having to take care of 75 little baby chickens, as they have all found their way into their new homes, and now only have to worry about our in-house birds and Juni, which is a lot less tedious than doing that plus... all those little babies.

Overall, life's been pretty hectic, I have some events coming up, plus a family member having surgery next week, so I'm just... all over the place mentally.

My primary co-worker, Tree, and I have been putting in extra time trying to get everything sorted, but so far the new bosses have been okay with the changes we've made and the data we've presented so there's that...

Secondly, how are you doing? You faring well these days?

-rolls off the bed and out of the ask box-

Lamp!

I was just thinking about you earlier (wondering how you were, thinking about checking in myself, feeling bad that I have asks from you rotting in my drafts). I'm so glad you're here ♡.

Your life sounds chaotic lately. So much going on! I'm glad the work change is good and the chicks have found homes. Hopefully things continue to get easier. I'm glad your new bosses are listening. Transitions like that can be SO hard and I'm glad it seems to be going OK.

I feel you on being all over the place. I've been busy with work events. I started librarian certification classes today! I've been having some wild anxiety lately which is bullshit. I'm managing but it really has been sapping me of all of my communication energy. Which sucks.

I'm almost done with the project I'm working on in my writers group (we started this group in August with the intention that everyone would have a finished product by May). I might actually be able to hold a book I wrote in my hand in a little over a month. So THAT feels wild. The last two months honestly just feel like a blurry whirlwind.

May things slow down and even out for both of us soon. ♡♡♡

I'm so glad you stopped by. Love youuuuu ♡

[wayfaringauthorofficial]

WIP EXCERPT!!!

I’m pushing tears back into my eyes as I listen to the phone ring, and watch my brother hold it to his ear. The lump in my throat throbs, head filled with pressure. With a shaking breath, I adjust so my forehead rests against the cool window, not caring that I’m jerking and bobbing along with the car as we travel. All I want is to take a nice, hot shower, and maybe not have to worry about disguising myself, being in hiding for the rest of my life.

The phone is held to my brother’s ear in silence for what I feel is a bit too long, but then I remember that my dad is probably working as well as figuring out a way to keep me from getting arrested again- or worse. My eyes are peeled for squad cars, or any suspicious vehicle that seems to be on our tail. I wonder if we should switch our car out. “Dalton, ask if we should get a different car. Maybe we’ve been in this one for too long?” I whisper, running a hand over my face.

He nods in response, greeting our father a second later. “Hi, Dad. I think Abby figured something out, and you’re not going to like it.” There’s a silence as he gets a response from Dad, one I can’t seem to make out. He won’t put the phone on speaker, but I’m too anxious to ask him to do anything about that. I can call my dad later if I want. There’s no energy in my body to think about a full conversation right now. “No… nothing like that. She’s in the back- she’s fine- but something’s off about Lana. Is there any way you could get one of the lawyers to look into her, figure out if she’s hiding something? I saw the card for a private investigator on the fridge. Send it to me, and I could call him if you’re too busy. I know you have stuff going on at work.”

My dad speaks for a long time, but I can’t make out any words. I wish I could; I miss hearing his voice, but maybe it’s best that we don’t talk until this is worked out. I’m endangering Dalton and Zander; I’d hate to bring anyone else down with us if our plan blows up in my face. We’re supposed to be cleaning up this mess- not making it worse. The problem is, I have no plan for how to do the former. The latter is easy.

The only idea in my mind is that we keep running, keep in touch with Dad. He’ll keep working behind the scenes, talking to lawyers about hypotheticals and doing research. I’ll make sure I don’t get myself arrested or worse in the meantime… and I’ll rely on the boys to watch my back. Everyone in my circle knows I haven’t done a good job of that myself lately. I wonder if I’ll ever get that thought out of their heads, and mine.

My brother continues voicing our suspicions, glancing at me in the rearview from time to time. He asks if we need to start worrying, if even bringing her into this ordeal at all is going to throw a wrench in the ever-changing plan to clear my name. I can’t hear my father’s answer, but his tone shifts drastically. I dig my nails into my palms, reminding myself to breathe. Everything will work itself out. We have already started proving my innocence, that I didn’t have a say in any of this. Hopefully, whoever receives that scrap of evidence will have mercy when they realize I’m more or less a fugitive, whether or not this was my doing or first choice.

Raking my hands through my hair in a desperate attempt to break free from the numbness, I yank so hard that tears well in my eyes, but I don’t care. What time is it? Have I been distracted for too long? Glancing around, I see no one following us, no police cars in my field of vision at all. A bit of the tightness in my chest goes away, but I fear it won’t be long before it returns.

“Okay, I’ll look out for it. Thank you, Dad.” Then, I see him shift, feel his eyes linger on my face for a moment longer than last time. “No, she’s out of it. She barely slept last night and she’s not really here right now. Abby’s fine, though, considering. We’re looking after her, she’s safe. I’ll have her call you later.” Muttering on the other end as my father gives his response. I sense the end of the conversation coming soon. “Yes, she’s safe. We’re all okay, just trying to keep moving. Could we switch the car out again? Is there a way you could send one our way by tomorrow?” Another moment of silence as Dad thinks, looks into it. “Perfect. Just let me know. Okay… yeah, I love you, too. Bye, Dad. I miss you.”

I never thought I’d hear my brother say that. They’ve been so distant these past few years, ever since he decided to start the company instead of going to law school. Am I now doomed to follow in my father’s footsteps instead? Will he use Mom’s death against me, too, when I tell him I want to do something else? Or will this ordeal finally put him in his place, realizing that we’re his children and not his replicas?

[shiny-jr]

i saw your new milestone and omg!!! you honestly 100% deserve the amount of followers you're getting because DAMN your writing has always been great. I think I've been reading your work since like - the think about it yan tweels oneshot??? your views on yan works in general have given me a bit of a reality check on what i like to read. i got too caught up in schoolwork to send in a prompt request lmao, but remember to take breaks and keep yourself hydrated!!!

- Big Man Anon

Whew, okay, went through the entire inbox and I think I found all the asks like these without requests. Here there are, I will respond below. Yeah, there's a lot of them.

Okay, I wanted to get them all answered at once, just so I don't sound like a broken record and so y'all don't think I forgot y'all. Trust me, I saw your asks there, it was just hard to answer them all at once, especially when I have a significant amount of requests left. I might go through them, delete the ones requesting a character I've already written about at least once or twice. Just to narrow things down, you know?

Anyways, thank you all again! Sorry I haven't had much time to answer the requests. Just remember, like I said, if I don't get to it, there's a good chance I could save it for much later. I kind of want to move on and write for other twst things again since I've gotten an interesting request or two. Maybe answering these new requests can help clear my mind enough to write for the Scarabia result of damnation again, since it's about less than halfway done I think. It's been a while, since I've been so busy. Thankfully though, I have a three day weekend this time so I'll have a little extra time to write!! Hopefully. I want to use that extra day off to try and write a little more for y'all, to provide more content as thanks for supporting me and following me.

Hopefully I can continue to create enjoyable content for you all, and here's to the next milestone. May my words and stories bring you amusement and pique your interest. Again, thank you so much for supporting me and motivating me to continue writing like this.