#So why are the slides a goddamn block of text dog

[aocello]

i hate chem ☆～（ゝ。∂）

[imaginingsoftly]

Wedding Date Pt. 2 - Tyler Seguin

Type: strangers-enemies-lovers, series

Requested: no

Warnings: swearing, asshole exes

A/N: Hey guys! I know I said these installments were going to come out on Thursdays, but I feel like my fellow Americans currently losing their shit could use a distraction. Remember that it’s out of our hands at the moment, and you deserve to take a break from the news coverage. Breathe. We’ll get through this. I love you all.

Tyler hadn’t asked any questions about Melissa’s sudden disappearance from the brunch after she woke up grumpy and disoriented before the rehearsal dinner, and she appreciated the hell out of him for it. Instead, he’d brewed her some coffee and talked about his dogs and life in Dallas. Somehow he could tell that she needed some time to not think about anything significant, and he’d given that time to her like it was nothing. 

Attending the rehearsal on his arm was almost fun, and he helped get her back to the suite early. Most of the group probably thought they were breaking off to go hook up, but that was fine as long as Melissa could get into her bed faster. He’d walked her all the way to her bedroom, despite her laughter that she could walk across the living space by herself, and she’d smiled that night as she fell back to sleep. 

Now they were getting ready for their respective roles in the wedding, Tyler as a guest/ wrangler of the middle-aged relatives, Melissa as the Maid-of-Honor. Tyler grinned appreciatively as Melissa handed him a cup of freshly-brewed coffee, and she turned back to the french press to make herself a cup when her phone began to ring. It was probably Kirsten freaking out about something, even though the wedding was a good 8 hours away. “Tyler, could you get that for me?” He could handle his cousin just as well as she would have, and hearing Tyler answer Melissa’s phone might put Kirsten in a good mood. 

“Hello?” Tyler’s voice, gravelly from sleep, sent a shiver up Melissa’s spine. Hearing that first thing in the morning was something she would be interested in getting used to. She snuck a glance over at Tyler to see him already looking at her, smirking like he knew what was going through her head. 

“Who the fuck are you?” The familiar voice, dripping in attitude and disgust, sent another sort of shiver down Melissa’s spine. Her ex, and not the hipster beer guy. 

“What the hell do you want, Liam?” Tyler looked at Melissa confusedly as she spoke, and she shook her head. Later, she tried to tell him with her eyes. He understood, and Melissa took the outstretched phone. “I told you to leave me the fuck alone.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, and for a second Melissa thought that maybe Liam had hung up. “I can’t believe you’re hooking up with someone else. This won’t look good to my parents, Melissa. It’s time to come home. Stop throwing fits.” Tyler threw a sharp look at her, like he actually believed what Liam was saying, and Melissa had enough. 

“I am not your goddamn girlfriend, Liam, so stop acting like I am.” He tried to interrupt her, like he always did, but she cut him off. “No. I’m not fucking finished. I love my job, I love my friends, and I love my freedom. I’m not interested in being some rich fucker’s trophy wife and I’m definitely not interested in being yours. Leave me the fuck alone before I get a restraining order.” She hung up before he could get another word in, throwing her phone on the counter in anger. “Motherfucker!” 

The timer for the french press went off, and Melissa prepped her coffee with jerky, angry movements. She could sense Tyler staring at her from his seat on the counter, but she ignored him as she continued to mutter curses under her breath. She should have blocked his number a long time ago, but she didn’t trust him not to just get a new one in order to reach out to her. At least this way she had proof of his continued calls and texts in one spot. 

Tyler’s voice broke through Melissa’s cloud of anger, and she actually jumped a little bit at the sound of his voice. “Bad breakup?” Melissa scoffed. He had no idea. “Well,” Tyler said with a bit of a laugh in his voice, “I can tell you one thing.” He waited until she turned to face him, an eyebrow raised, before he continued. “I’d be honored to have you as my trophy wife.” No he did not. Melissa gaped at him, more shocked he had made a joke about the conversation than about the actual comment. 

She didn’t really think, she just reacted. Tyler laughed as Melissa’s coffee spoon came flying in his direction, and he caught the utensil with ease. Her heart felt light, lighter than it usually did after phone calls from Liam, and Melissa found herself smiling back. “Hipster beer guy wasn’t my most recent ex. He was actually a guy from college, so a while ago.” Tyler nodded, and she noticed that he leaned forward like he was interested in the story she was about to tell. “I dated Liam for about 6 months last year. We met at a dinner for the university that I work at, some charity thing where the donors get to come and make sure we know that they pay our salaries.” Tyler cringed, and Melissa was sure he at least kind of understood where she was coming from. 

“Liam didn’t seem like the other donors. He’d gone to the dinner in place of his parents, and we talked for a couple of hours. He seemed sweet.” She didn’t see the red flags that she normally would have, mostly because he looked so friendly. Apparently being raised by rich and heartless parents taught you some pretty impressive false empathy skills. She wasn’t wholly convinced he actually felt empathy at all, actually. “We started dating, and it just felt easy. We were both so busy that we hardly saw each other, and I told myself I liked that. I realized later that I didn’t like the distance from a partner, I just liked the distance from him.”

“One night like a week before we hit the 6 month mark Liam invited me to dinner with his parents. I hadn’t met them yet, because apparently they were super busy running their empire, so I was pretty nervous. Liam is a pretty driven guy, and I had assumed he got it from his parents. The dinner went wrong from the beginning.” Melissa paused as Tyler patted the space on the counter next to him. She hopped up gratefully, and he squeezed the shoulder closest to him. 

“Just wanted you to be comfy. I have a feeling this next part is going to be a doozy.” 

Melissa laughed at Tyler’s choice of phrasing, though she nodded because he was correct. It was a doozy for sure. “You have no idea. So we get there, and I’m immediately othered when everyone shows up in cocktail dresses and suits and I’m over there in my teaching pants and a blazer. His mother looked like she had just sucked on a lemon when I walked into the room, and she glared down at my hand when I introduced myself like I was going to give her some kind of disease.” That wasn’t even half of it. She’d also made some snide comments under her breath about where the clothing had come from, though Tyler didn’t really need to hear that detail. 

“We finally sat down for dinner after some of the most uncomfortable cocktail conversation I’ve ever had, and then I make a giant mistake. I mention my job.” Tyler reacts perfectly, throwing a hand over his heart and fake gasping. Melissa chuckled a bit. “Yeah, exactly. So his mom gets this horrified look on her face, and turns to Liam and says, ‘she will not be working once you’re engaged, correct?’ I tried to respectfully state that I love my job, and I planned on working for the foreseeable future, but she wouldn’t take that for an answer. She kept insisting that I couldn’t work if we were going to be together, and Liam wouldn’t back me up. At one point he turned to me and said, ‘you know, I make more in a day than you do in an entire month. I can take care of you.’”

Tyler’s face looked disgusted for her, and Melissa felt a twinge of satisfaction that at least he was on her side. “I lost my damn mind. I stood up from the table and said that if the expectation was that I would be a brainless trophy wife with no ambition or intelligence then I was uninterested in continuing our relationship, and I stormed out. I’ve been trying to get Liam to realize that no means no ever since.” Melissa downed the rest of her coffee, suddenly in need of at least three more cups. 

She was halfway through making a second cup when Tyler responded again. “Isn’t one of your areas of expertise gender and stuff?” Melissa whipped around, surprised he had remembered. She nodded, and Tyler let out a scoff. “So they were pushing some idea from the 50s on you when your area of study is literally everything against that?” Melissa laughed. At least someone else understood the irony there. 

A knock sounded on the door to the suite before Melissa could respond. Tyler jumped off the counter before she could move to the door, and she admired the view from behind as he walked away from her. “Morning, cousin!” Kirsten flew through the door, sliding across the room and into Melissa’s arms with a laugh. “I’m getting married today!” The pair laughed, and Melissa hugged her friend close as she felt some tears prick her eyes. They’d been through a lot together since their days as college roommates, and today felt almost surreal. 

Kirsten pulled back with a slight frown. “Why do you look like you want to punch something?” Melissa tried to school her face into one of confusion, but her friend knew her too well for that. “Don’t bullshit me. Why the hell do you look so pissed?” 

She didn’t get a chance to make something up. “Liam called her.” Melissa turned to glare at Tyler from where he was sitting on the counter again. “He was an ass, but she handled him really well. It was kinda hot actually.” He winked at Melissa, and she flushed bright red. He had that effect on her, and it was kind of aggravating. 

“He still seems to think we’re still dating. I told him a restraining order was in the cards if he didn’t kindly fuck off.” Kirsten held up a hand for a high five, and Melissa slapped it gratefully. She had stayed in Kirsten’s guest bedroom for almost a month after that breakup because Liam kept showing up at her apartment. He stayed away from the house because John was a hell of a lot bigger than him, and John and Kirsten had been lifesavers as she tried to get over their relationship ending. 

Kirsten looped an arm through Melissa’s and began pulling her out the door, despite the fact that the latter girl was barefoot. Melissa managed to snag a pair of flip flops on their way out, though she couldn’t get them on her feet. “Ty I’m stealing your girl for a bestie breakfast, try not to miss her too much!” Melissa stiffened at her words. Maybe they’d been acting too well. She looked over her shoulder to mouth an apology at Tyler, her face bright red, only to find him smirking in her direction already. They were still staring each other down when the door slammed shut behind her. “You have a lot of explaining to do, Lissy.” 

She couldn’t keep pretending like this. “Kirs, it’s not like that.” If she wasn’t careful, Kirsten would be planning her and Tyler’s wedding by the time the night was over. Kirsten meant well, she really did, but sometimes she really just needed to chill out. “We get along really well. We’ve had a lot of time to talk, and it’s been fun. That’s all.” It was obvious that Kirsten disagreed, but she relented as they reached the patio where the brunch had been held the day prior. 

The tables were no longer set up to make one giant table, like they had been the night before. Instead it was an open area where several groups were eating, none part of the wedding party. Kirsten pulled Melissa over to a table set up for two in one corner of the patio. It was next to the vine and flower-covered wall she’d noticed the day before, and she leaned in slightly to sniff at the flowers brightening the space. 

“So,” Kirsten said with an air of mischief, “you and my cousin.” Melissa opened her mouth to protest again, but her friend cut her off. “Uh-uh. Nope. I saw the looks he was giving you, and you turned bright red every time you two made eye contact.” She was right, and they both knew it. Kirsten looked smug when Melissa didn’t try to disagree. “Listen. You’re moving to Dallas in a month. Why not hook up with him? See if he’s worth keeping around, and then have some fun. You don’t have to do the whole relationship thing babe, and you deserve to have someone appreciate your body.” 

A server came to take their order, and Melissa gratefully ordered another cup of coffee and some pancakes. “I think you’re reading it all wrong, Kirs. He’s just being nice.” The looks that he kept giving her, full of heat and interest, said otherwise, but there was no way he was really interested in her outside of a hookup. Although, would that really be so bad? Kirsten scoffed at her statement, and Melissa jumped in before she could say anything. “I don’t know if I really want to hook up with anyone this weekend, Kirs. If it happens it happens, but I’m not going to push it.” 

Her friend shrugged, though her face said she completely disagreed. “Well if you aren’t going to let me find someone to match you with, at least tell me you found a place in Dallas.” Their food arrived, and Melissa took a happy bite of her pancakes. They smelled heavenly, and tasted even better. “You were going to buy a house, right?”

Melissa nodded. “Originally I had planned on a house, maybe just outside the city, but I fell in love with this townhouse right off of Main Street. It has three bedrooms, so right around the size I wanted, and there’s so much natural light. Plus, there’s a rooftop deck with a beautiful view of the city.” This place was going to be her new investment. She was fortunate enough to have gotten a lot of scholarships and grants to do her schooling with, and professorial pay allowed her to pay off those loans rather quickly. That meant that she could start saving for a down payment on her own place and a new start in Dallas. 

She took another bite of her pancakes while Kirsten contemplated what she was saying. “I’m really happy for you, Lissy. You deserve this.” They grinned at each other, and then Kristen broke down into giggles. “Look at us! You’re a badass in your field that got job offers from like half the universities in the country, and I’m marrying my soulmate. We’re killing this whole life thing.” Melissa chuckled as she nodded at her friend’s words. 

“It wasn’t half of the universities in the country, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.” Kirsten waved a hand in a ‘whatever’ kind of way, and conversation moved to people-watching and bets over who would leave with whom tonight or how long it would take for John to tear up.

[savethelastdan]

ain't got no time, just burnin' daylight (still love, it’s still love)

I wrote this while doing prompts for Kagura Week (starts this Sunday!!!) and ended up replacing it, since it didn’t fit Kagura’s perspective enough to really be for her theme week. 

Originally written for Day 3 - Lust for Life. Title is from SZA’s Broken Clocks. 

Standing up, Sesshomaru tunes out the sputtering old man on the other side of the table. “Please call my secretary to reschedule this meeting. Good night.” 

  It’s bad enough that he’s spent every night this week with clients--listening to laughably minor problems be blown up into life-or-death mountains of issues, picking at tasteless meals in overpriced restaurants, and squinting at line after line of jargon-filled contracts until his eyes feel ready to pop out--but tonight is a whole new level of disrespect.

What kind of low-brow, uncouth person holds a confidential meeting regarding a serious legal issue in the booth of a fucking sports bar? 

Even worse, if the stained printouts of the text messages the client passed him over the table are any indication, the idiot has not only been admitting fault but also in a public forum, using enough details that his use of a throwaway account is completely pointless. 

If Sesshomaru’s father wasn’t already in the grave, his heart would give out to see the type of clients now frequenting his law firm. He wonders briefly if he could find a way to blame such a thing on Inuyasha. 

Expression grim, he strides across the room with such forceful steps that a tray-carrying waiter in a green jersey practically leaps to get out of his way. The door is nearly in sight, before someone stumbles out from the bathroom hallway right into his path. 

He stops short, acknowledging how his shoes stick to the floor with stomach-turning ease. But instead of apologizing and moving aside, the woman blocking his way shifts her weight to one hip, crossing both arms over her chest. 

It takes a second before it fully registers that she’s actually looking him up and down. 

“Well, you’re definitely not a regular.” She tilts her head, sending a wave of black hair covering her shoulder. Her eyes are deep scarlet, her ears sharpened into points and studded with earrings. Some kind of elemental demon? Ah, but it doesn’t matter. 

He opens his mouth to ask her to move, but with a sudden curve of her mouth she beats him to the punch. “Wanna bet on who’s going to win tonight?” 

“What?” The synapses of his brain move sluggishly, until he looks to her right to see flashes of color on a broad screen, mounted precariously to the wall. His refined hearing is used to tuning out the banal and unimportant, so it’s not a total surprise that he’s missed it.  “I don’t know who is playing.” Or what kind of game it even is. 

She shrugs, arms uncrossing, and he realizes she’s wearing a jersey--is she a waitress, or a customer? It seems to be appropriate attire for both. “You don’t have to know. Just pick: white or green?” 

Maybe it’s because every other night of his week (his month, his year) has been sucked dry by the demands of his job. Maybe it’s because, since taking over his father’s firm, he’s started dressing and cutting his hair and even speaking like the dead man. Or maybe it’s because, when she tilts her head again, the sleeve of her jersey slips down and he can see a stretch of scarred skin curling like a necklace, and it makes him curious.

“Fine. Green.” 

Red eyes burn with glee. “Good choice. White’s been fucking up all season.” 

It’s like being under some kind of goddamn spell.

When she says, “Come on, the speakers in the break room are better,” he follows her back down the bathroom hall right through a small door. Sitting on a scarred leather couch with an admittedly impressive television and sound system mounted across from it, he accepts the beer she offers him with a whisper. “On the house. If you don’t tell, I won’t.” 

When she cheers and curses so loudly at the game that he thinks someone might come in and shout at them, and waves her bottle towards him, he clinks their drinks together with a high-pitched chime. 

When she offers off-handedly that her name is Kagura, that her dad owns the bar but hardly ever visits (“except for special events”, which is said with a bitter grin that sends approximately a thousand red flags pinging in his lawyer brain), he finds himself handing her his business card. 

“Wow,” she hums, turning the square of stock paper this way and that so that the gold characters of his name shine. “How much did that cost?” 

It’s when the game is going into its second overtime, he finds it in him to ask. “Why did you invite me back here?”

She smirks, twisting a ringlet of hair around her finger. “Why did you come?” 

His mind stalls again, but he covers better this time. “It’s dangerous. I’m a stranger. What if I had negative intentions towards you?” 

Something flashes in her eyes. “If you attacked me, then you’d regret it.” 

“Would I?” There could be a knife tucked into the couch, he guesses. Her jersey looks roomy, maybe she has a taser holstered beneath it. Or perhaps she’s referring to her powers, though not many demons could beat a dog demon of his caliber--

Then she’s right in front of his face. A pleasant warmth fills his stomach, as her nails scrape down the sleeve of his button-down shirt. 

“You look like the kind of person who wants what I want,” she says, very quietly. 

He swallows, realizing his hand has already settled on her knee. “What is that?” 

Kagura inhales slowly, lip drawing in between her teeth. “To just say fuck it, and live already.” 

Time pulses between them for one second, two--and then he’s kissing her, with an urgency that he hasn’t felt in what seems like a thousand years. 

It isn’t until she’s dragging him off the couch, muttering something about her car and locked doors, when he realizes that the only heartbeat pounding in his hyper-sensitive ears is his own. 

Then he’s on his back on leather seats--same fabric as the couch, why the hell is he thinking about that right now--with her settled on top of him. Her car is small and his legs are long, so it takes a moment of figuring out how to fit without banging his head on the door handle. Kagura leans over him, her tongue sliding into his mouth, and he feels the previous warmth in his stomach spiral out to all four limbs. It burns, like the venom in his veins has suddenly turned against him. 

“Shit,” she breathes, as his fangs prick her lip. “You are something.” 

It’s barely a compliment, but nonetheless it has him kissing her harder. He bunches up the jersey so his claws can find flesh instead, and Kagura sighs. 

More scar tissue, rising up to meet his fingers. Her chest is pressed right up against his, but he senses no movement inside it. 

But her hands are warm, her eyes are bright, and when he breathes her name, it tastes like a lifeline in his mouth.

[imfires333]

Medley (pt. 1)

Summary: You're a star swimmer on your high-school team, but so is Jeon Jungkook. What will this mean for your chemistry in and out of the pool?

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Genre: Fluff, swimmer!jungkook Word Count: 1.9k

As your head broke the water at the wall, you gasped for hair like a fish out of water. You furiously turned your head to the right and saw Jungkook leaning against the wall, kicking his legs on top of the water and looking relaxed, like he’s without a care in the world. How is he not even panting? you asked yourself while basically heaving up a lung. That butterfly was killer. You were a breaststroker, so naturally, the butterfly was a no-go for you. No matter how much of a star swimmer you were, your coach just wouldn’t let you sit out for the fly portion of practice. This is when Jungkook looked over at you with a stupid smile on his face.

“Oh Y/N, you’re finally here!” he crowed, slinking over the lane line to you. You saw his hands coming toward your head from above, took one last breath, and mentally told your mom you loved her as his hands pushed you underwater. When he let go, you came up with a scowl on your face. Jungkook bellowed and held his hand up for a friendly high-five, which you ignored as you faced the wall and pushed yourself out of the water and onto land. Your teammate, Seokjin, took his place on the starting block you were beneath moments ago.

Smack, smack, smack… Footsteps kept following you toward the end of the line of teammates waiting their turn to fly. You turned on your heel and looked Jungkook dead in the eye. His eyes widened at your expression and he held his hands up, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I come in peace?” he said, seemingly unsure of his words. Contradicting himself, he bent his head over yours and shook out his soaked hair like a dog, letting cold droplets hit your skin. This Jeon Jungkook just won’t let you relax today, will he?

“Flirting again, you two?” Taehyung. He was always trying to set things up among teammates, perhaps for the sake of romance, but most likely for the drama.

I scoffed. “Please. Wouldn’t you love for that to happen, Mr. Matchmaker?”

Taehyung smiled and shrugged. “I just want the best for my friends,” he claimed, putting his arms around you and Jungkook. He moved to stand behind Jungkook, jumping out of his own line. “Besides, haven’t you heard what people are saying about you guys?”

Now Jungkook joined in. “What do you mean?”

Taehyung looked around, either to make sure no one was listening or to be the dramatic kid he was. “Not just our teammates, but some other students in different clubs have noticed your…chemistry.”

You put your hand over your mouth, trying your best to stifle a laugh so that Coach wouldn’t kick your ass for not being “focused.” “Chemistry?” you repeated, making sure your ears were still working properly. At this, Jungkook draped his arm around your shoulders and pressed his dripping wet body against your side. Immediately, you felt the blood rush to your face and pushed him away. “Cut it out, Jeon!”

The boys laughed at your embarrassment. Taehyung continued. “But really, IS there something going on between you?” His eyes shifted mischievously between us.

“Christ, no, Tae. Get your head out of your ass, will you? Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to mentally prepare myself for another round of goddamn butterfly,” you spat at the two of them, turning to look at the back of another teammate.

Just then, Coach barked out a new order. “All right, everyone, new set. Make a relay team for medley! The winners get to cool down and go home early, so choose your teammates wisely!”

Oh. Hell. Yes.

You turned around and grabbed Jungkook’s hand, whose other hand was stolen by Taehyung, a freestyle swimmer. This will do, you thought. Now just for a backstroke swimmer.

Seeming to mirror your thoughts, Taehyung screamed, “YA! PARK JIMIN!” You looked around for the head of blonde hair and saw it bobbing toward your group. Underneath his drenched mop of hair, his eyes were basically closed since he was smiling so widely.

“You ready to go home then?” Jimin asked your group. You all high-fived and started stretching some more. Your teammates around you gradually stopped shuffling about, having found their own medley teams.

“Has everyone made their teams?” Coach asked the group of high-schoolers.

Your whole swim team all let out a solid “YES!” and the individual teams moved to find starting blocks. Your team found an empty block near the end. Lucky number seven. You got in medley order—Jimin, you, Jungkook, Taehyung.

Coach let out a long whistle. Along with the other teams’ backstrokers, Jimin dropped into the water and pulled himself up to the backstroke start ledge. He looked straight ahead, focused and determined…to go home early. Another whistle pierced the air, and Jimin threw himself backwards into the race.

Everybody started screaming for their own teams to GO as the swimmers came back toward you. You climbed up the block and bent into position, ready to go. In the lead, Jimin got closer and closer to you, finally touching the wall, and you propelled yourself off the block, soaring through the air before slicing into the water.

As you swam, you took as few breaths as you possibly could to keep your lead that Jimin had bagged. “GO…GO…GO…” You could hear the cheers from your teammates every time your head went above water. For the last stretch, you kicked it up a notch and powered through to the wall for the last time…hopefully for that day too. You heard the splash, and you knew Jungkook had taken off flying.

Back on land with your teammates, you watched Jungkook swim, watched his powerful back flex with every movement, mesmerized. On his way back, even with his goggle face, he still looked…intimidating. Strong. Attractive.

What the hell? Y/N, what are thinking right now?  Cordin Bleu whispered in your psyche, Get your head in the game!

Taehyung jumped into the water, signifying that Jungkook had finished his job. Looking out at the competition, you realized that your team was still in the lead, and Jungkook had even managed to put a huge gap between your team and the second-place team. Finally, Jungkook pushed out of the water, his arms quivering from exhaustion. Despite all the talk, he was tired from today’s practice.

You held your hand up, and he smacked your hand with a triumphant look on his face. “How was I?” he asked you.

“Hot—I mean like, you were on fire. Just really fast. Yeah.” Jesus Christ. It’s time for a nap.

A shy smile spread across his face as he scratched the back of his neck. He looked around nervously, and then his eyes bore through yours with an intensity that made you look away, back to your teammate who was on his way back.

When he hit the wall, your team erupted into hoots and hollers. You got into a circle with your arms around each other’s shoulders and started rocking back and forth, basically flexing and pissing other teams off. When the excitement died down and everyone had finished the race, Coach congratulated everyone for doing a good job and told your group to cool down in the well. You carefully ran across the wet ground to the deep area of the pool and pencil dove to the bottom of the twelve-foot well.

After cooling down for about ten minutes, you hopped out of the well and found your bag on the stands, pulling your towel out to dry off. Since you lived across the street from your school, you would always shower at your house rather than use the communal showers, which was just uncomfortable.

“Nice job today, Y/N,” Coach said. Her eyes were still trained on her swimmers that were actually still participating in practice, but it was still nice to get some acknowledgment from her.

“Thanks, Coach. All because of you!” you said, trying to butter her up. She cracked a smile and called out another set to the team.

A pair of hands started fumbling in the bag next to you. You glanced over and found Jungkook carefully putting his goggles into his bag. His head turned and he looked up at you with puppy-dog eyes. Oh, be still, my beating heart.

“Yeeeees?” you asked expectantly. There must have been a reason for those eyes. If they were for nothing, so help Jeon Jungkook…

“Y/N…Can I shower at your house? I don’t wanna use the school showers,” he said, puffing his lip out.

You felt conflicted about this. While your afterschool time was your special alone time without your family pestering you, Jeon Jungkook showering at your house might make for an interesting experience…

“I’ll have to ask my dad who HATES boys at his house,” you told him seriously. If your dad came home early and found a boy in a towel—something you see every day—in his house, he’d go absolutely ape shit.

“Awesome! I appreciate it, Y/N,” Jungkook said, giving a cheeky smile. You poked his cheek and took your phone out of your swim bag, texting your dad about the situation you were being faced with. Just a friend needs to come and use your shower, invading your me-time. That’s all.

“All right, follow me, Jeon,” you said, swinging your lanyard that held your car keys around your finger. He grinned innocently and followed you to your car, a white sedan with ridiculous bumper stickers on the back. You threw your bag into the trunk and signaled for him to do the same before precariously placing your towel on your leather seat and sliding behind the wheel.

“Why do you drive to school when you live so close?” Jungkook asked as you pulled into your driveway. You put the car in park and looked at him with a blank expression on your face.

“I’m lazy.”

He nodded his head, either agreeing that you were lazy or sympathizing with you. “I see.”

You popped the trunk, and the two of you grabbed your bags and headed to the front door. Unlocking the front door, you braced yourself for the menace that the two of you would be faced with as soon as you twisted the doorknob fully.

“Be careful. There is a monster in here,” you warned him, then opened the door.

A brown dachshund launched itself at your feet before noticing an unfamiliar scent, detaching itself from around your ankles and meeting the intruder with nibbles on his shoes.

“OH MY GOD!” Jungkook shrieked with delight. He bent down to say hello to the little fiend, giving the puppy tiny kisses on the head. This was a sight that made your heart flutter. Shut up.

“What?” he asked, looking up at you from below. You just realized that you had said “Shut up” out loud. Maybe I’m really going crazy, you thought. You shook your head, hanging up your keys and kicking your shoes off before heading deeper into the house.

“I’m gonna go first, since this is my house, but you’re free to sit on the couch and watch TV,” you told him. “We have Netflix, Hulu, YouTube Premium, and Crunchyroll, so you can find whatever you want. I might be a while. This is my me-time, after all.”

“Damn. This is a party house, isn’t it?” he said. “Well, take your time, since you’re doing me a favor.”

Exhaustion hitting you, you turned around and dragged your feet across the floor toward the bathroom. You knew this would be a shower full of conversations with yourself after the day you’ve had.

[carry-the-sky]

these heavy words, your open heart

summary

“You told me once that I was honest. That I don’t lie to you. But the hospital—you asked me to start over, and I said I didn’t want that.”

Karen sucks in a breath. Frank’s eyes are still on her, wide and bright. It’s the most vulnerable she’s ever seen him look.

“I lied,” he says.

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three

I’ll be at Cinco’s at noon, the one on the corner of 47th. No pressure either way. Take care, Karen.

He’s giving her a choice, giving her an out. It’s such a Frank thing to do that it makes her chest ache a little. She drags her thumb over her screen, imagining him tapping out each letter of her name.

See you then, she types, and hits send.

As the end of the year approaches, so do the deadlines. Karen has two major pieces that need to be submitted in order for them to run in January. She holes herself up in her apartment for the better part of two days to finish writing, stopping only to use the bathroom and refill her coffee mug. By the time she’s emailed both stories off, she’s utterly exhausted—it’s only mid-afternoon, but that doesn’t stop her from collapsing onto her bed and falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

She wakes up just past four in the morning, groggy and disoriented. After tossing and turning for a short while, she resigns herself to the fact that her body apparently wants to be awake and decides to check her phone. There’s a string of texts from Foggy asking if she’s dead, several unread emails, and a few voicemails from unknown numbers. That’s not unusual—she’s used to receiving calls from numbers she doesn’t recognize. She checks the first one.

“Karen, it’s—me.” 

She sits upright, hot adrenaline jolting her out of her haze. That’s Frank—she’d recognize his voice anywhere. 

He’s okay.

He’s alive.

She’s so absorbed in this thought that she doesn’t catch the rest of his message. She hits replay, and forces herself to listen. 

“Call me. Please.”

He saw the flowers. That’s the only reasonable explanation, after months of radio silence. Karen plays the voicemail again. He sounds shaken, and she can hear the urgency behind each word. He’s worried about her. 

Yeah, well. She knows the feeling.

There’s no way she’s calling him back at this hour. Even if he is awake, Karen doesn’t think she can summon the mental energy required for this particular phone call in her current state. A text seems less intimidating, something short and sweet to let him know she got his message.

Frank, it’s Karen. I’m okay. Thanks for calling.

She hits send before she can talk herself out of it, stares up at the ceiling and wills her pounding heart to settle. When her phone buzzes, she jumps.

Glad to hear it, his text reads. And then—You’re up early.

Deadlines for work. My sleep schedule is all messed up. Sorry if I woke you.

It’s a minute before he replies. I sleep light. Don’t worry about it. You sure you’re okay?

Karen’s not sure how to answer. Hearing his voice on her phone after all this time—of course she’s relieved, and grateful that he’s alive. But there’s another part of her that resents not knowing sooner. He’d made it clear that day in the hospital that he doesn’t want anything from her, so why can’t she move on? If she hadn’t put the flowers in the window—

Yeah, I’m fine, she taps out, then slides her phone onto her nightstand and curls back under the covers. She’s not sure she can do this again, reel him back into her life just for him to cut himself free the way he always does. 

Her phone buzzes. 

You free tomorrow to grab some coffee?

Coffee. Sounds innocent enough, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to see him. She does. Of course she does. It’s just—

She wants more. More than he’s able to give.

He must sense her hesitance, even over text, because her phone vibrates again. 

I’ll be at Cinco’s at noon, the one on the corner of 47th. No pressure either way. Take care, Karen.

He’s giving her a choice, giving her an out. It’s such a Frank thing to do that it makes her chest ache a little. She drags her thumb over her screen, imagining him tapping out each letter of her name. 

See you then, she types, and hits send.

.

When her alarm goes off a few hours later, Karen thinks that maybe she dreamt it all. Frank’s voicemail, the texts, all of it a product of her sleep-deprived subconscious—but when she rolls over and swipes at her lock screen, she sees the text thread. It happened. It’s real. 

She has a coffee date with the Punisher.

Her brain still feels too fuzzy to properly process that thought, so she peels her pajamas off and steps into the shower, lets the warmth drum down over her head and shoulders. When she emerges, she feels slightly more like a real person. 

As she’s heading out, Karen grabs a couple of bowls and a scoopful of the kibble she’d bought after her run-in with the stray dog. She hasn’t seen it again—when she followed-up with animal control, they informed her they hadn’t been out her way yet. She figures it won’t hurt to leave some food and water out. At the very least, she’ll be providing breakfast for the local raccoon family that frequents the alleyway.

Cinco’s is a three-block walk from her apartment. She halfway considers taking a cab—it’s a clear day, but cold, the kind that burns as soon as you step out into it—but she decides to brave the slush and salt. A cab would probably take longer anyways, given that it’s lunchtime on a weekday, and maybe the walk will help burn off some of the nervous energy that’s coiling up in her gut. 

Frank’s already there. She sees him as she approaches from the street, seated at a table by the window. He’s grown his hair out again, and Karen focuses on that, on the play of light and shadow across his face every time someone swings the door open. 

He looks good, but that’s nothing new. It’s more than that. It’s his hands, clasped loosely in front of him on the table, and how his eyes seem to scan the space out of curiosity rather than necessity. His gaze snaps to her when she slips inside.

Frank starts to stand, but stops when Karen raises a hand in greeting. She threads her way through the tables and winter coats slung over chairs until she’s sliding into the seat across from him. 

There’s a brief, swollen moment where she’s not sure what to say, but he breaks the silence first.

“Wasn’t sure you’d actually come.” His voice is different, too. Less grit, lighter, and Karen recalls a similar conversation after he came back the first time—wasn’t sure you’d still talk to me. He wasn’t, but he gambled on her anyways. He trusted that she would hear him out. 

“I don’t know if it was the right call,” she says, “but I’m here.”

He tilts his head to catch her gaze. “It means a lot, Karen. I’ve wanted to—reach out, talk to you. Couldn’t muster up the courage, I guess. I know that sounds like a line of bullshit, but it’s the truth. And the flowers in your window—”

“I shouldn’t have—”

“I’m glad you did,” he cuts in. “Though I gotta admit it scared the hell out of me. Thought maybe something had happened, something bad.”

The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them. “I didn’t realize you still cared.”

Frank winces like she slapped him. Guilt floods through her, and she rapidly backtracks. “Shit, I’m sorry, Frank. That wasn’t fair. I’m just—confused. I wasn’t expecting to see you again.”

“You don’t—” Frank’s hand spasms, like he’s resisting the urge to reach across the table. “You don’t owe me an apology, Karen. It’s the other way around. You told me once that I was honest. That I don’t lie to you. But the hospital—you asked me to start over, and I said I didn’t want that.” 

Karen sucks in a breath. Frank’s eyes are still on her, wide and bright. It’s the most vulnerable she’s ever seen him look. 

“I lied,” he says. “And I’m sorry I did. You deserve better.” 

Karen exhales, the sound rattling out of her. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Frank laughs dryly. “Because I’m a goddamn coward, that’s why.” He glances away, out the window. “I actually went to your place. I know how that sounds, but—I wasn’t sure if you were in trouble or not.” 

Karen’s stomach flips at the thought of Frank standing outside her door. “Did anyone see you?”

“Your neighbor. I was about two seconds away from picking your lock when she caught me outside your door. I fed her some bullshit about how I was just dropping by, but she didn’t buy it. Booked it outta there pretty quick after that.” 

He’s still not looking at her. Karen can see his fingers tapping rapid-fire against the side of his coffee cup, and she reaches out to rest a hand over his. “I didn’t mean to worry you, Frank. I just wanted to know if you were okay.” 

A pause, then—“I hung up the vest, Karen. I’m done.”

Her pulse is in her ears, rushing like tidewater. “What changed?”

Frank sighs. “I was exhausted. So goddamn tired of swimming through the same shit day after day, putting the same assholes down. Nothing ever changed, so I guess—I guess I did.”

Karen is quiet for a moment. She gives Frank’s hand a gentle squeeze, then starts to pull away—but he catches her wrist, his fingertips grazing her pulse point. When she looks up at him, he’s looking back. 

“I’m not sure I deserve a normal life, Karen, not if it means dragging you down with my bullshit, but—I want it. I do. I know it’s selfish, and I don’t—if you’re not”—his jaw works around the words for a second—“if you’re not looking for anything from me, I get it. You don’t owe me anything. I just—needed you to hear it from me, just once.”

His fingers burn where they’re pressed to her wrist. Karen swallows past the lump wedged in her throat, and gently turns her hand until her fingers are threaded through his.  

“You’ve punished yourself long enough, Frank,” she says. “I know that much. I’ve always wanted more for you than that life. You deserve more.” 

“Karen Page,” he says softly. His thumb is moving, tracing gentle circles against hers. “All heart.”

Karen laughs, easy and free. “Not all heart. Coffee’s on you, right?”

.

They spend the next hour catching up. He tells her about his construction job and takes a friendly jab at the amount of sugar she takes with her coffee; she talks about her latest VA piece and quips back about the length of his hipster haircut. There’s still so much they aren’t saying—Karen feels the tenuous threads of maybe and what if strung between the two of them, words held behind teeth or swallowed altogether—but for now, it’s enough. It’s more than she thought they’d ever have again. 

She’s so absorbed in all of it—Frank, in front of her, here—that she misses the sound of her phone alarm going off.

“I think that’s you,” Frank says, nodding in the direction of her bag. 

It’s a work alarm for a meeting she set up last week. Karen briefly considers calling to reschedule, but this particular source is already gun-shy about talking to a reporter—they’ll likely go to ground if she cancels. 

“I have to go,” she says, and she can hear the disappointment in her voice. “One of the many joys of freelance—I’m always on-call.”

“Occupational hazard,” Frank says with a smile. 

“Yeah.” She shrugs into her coat, then hesitates, hand lingering on the back of her chair. It seems impossible that the man in front of her is the same one she sat beside months ago in the hospital, who looked her dead in the eye and told her he wanted the war. She scans his face, the fullness of his cheeks and how smooth his skin looks when it’s not covered in bruises. 

“Frank—” she starts, at the same time that Frank says, “I’d really—”

Karen waves in his direction. “You first.”

“I’d, uh—really like to see you again,” Frank says. His fingers are working nervously at the lid on his drink. “Maybe I could call you sometime?”

Karen laughs softly. “You mean I won’t have to summon you with flowers?”

She says it lightly enough, but she doesn’t miss the frown that flickers across his face, there and gone the next moment. She reads the nonverbal cue like a neon sign—frustration with himself for not reaching out sooner, guilt that he kept her in the dark for so long. Abruptly, all of the hurt and anger she’s been harboring since the hospital bleeds away. She’d meant it when she said he’d punished himself enough. It’s time for them both to heal.

“I’d like that,” she says. “If you called me, I mean.” 

His face relaxes. “Okay. Uh, you were—you were saying something—”

“Oh.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s just really good to see you, Frank. Good to see you happy. It’s a nice look, goes well with the hipster vibe.”

She’s hoping the jab will pull a laugh from him, and it does. She’s momentarily suspended in the moment, the way his mouth crinkles at the corners and how effortless the sound is. Frank Castle, happy. She could get used to that. 

“Remind me to find a new place to get my hair cut,” he says.

It’s her turn to chuckle as she swings her bag over her shoulder. “Thanks for the coffee. Talk to you soon?”

He meets her eyes. “Okay,” he says, voice cracking slightly on the word.

“Okay,” she echoes. 

It is. It really is.

.

The dog is in the alleyway by the time she makes it back. Karen slows to a halt, watching from a short distance as it crunches up the kibble she’d left out earlier. She can see a few more of its ribs from this angle, and a wave of fury washes over her. Screw animal control—she’s going to solve this problem herself. 

She’d stashed a couple of Milk-Bones in her bag as soon as she bought them, just in case this very scenario ever came up, and she retrieves one now. The dog’s head swivels in her direction, and Karen freezes. She waits until it resumes eating to squat down and hold the treat out.  

“That’s a good girl,” she murmurs as the dog lifts its head again, sniffing the air. Karen averts her eyes as it ambles towards her. It seems less anxious than the last time she saw it, but still cautious. By the time the dog makes its way over to her, she’s started to lose feeling in her legs. 

Karen holds her breath as the dog sniffs her hand. It gently chews the treat into bites over her open palm. When she chances a glance at it, she sees the familiar upside down heart marking over its eye. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” she whispers. The dog peers up at her, now licking her hand. Aside from the obvious malnutrition, it doesn’t appear to be injured. It’s lucky to have made it this far, especially in winter—or maybe not. Karen knows what it means to fight for her life, fight to survive. Maybe luck had nothing to do with it at all. 

Karen curls two fingers under the dog’s chin, scratching softly at the scruff of fur there. The dog stiffens but doesn’t move. With her other hand, Karen grabs another treat from her bag and offers it up. The dog devours it in seconds, tail wagging. When it’s finished, it sits back on its haunches and looks at Karen expectantly, mouth parted slightly in a classic pit bull smile. 

Karen’s heart pangs as she pets the dog, working from its chin up to the soft bit of skin behind its ears. Her landlord has a strict no-pets policy, but she wonders if he’d make an exception for a stray, as long as it was temporary. She could set up a makeshift bed in the living room, get it out of the cold for a couple days before taking it to a local shelter. The dog isn’t wearing a collar, but she could put signs up on her block in case someone comes looking for it, she could—

Her phone alarm trills, and the dog skitters away from her. 

“I’m sorry—” she swipes the alarm off. The dog is watching her warily. “It’s okay, girl, it’s okay, c’mon—”

The dog barks low in its throat, then turns and starts off towards the alley. Karen slowly gets to her feet. She knows better than to push—at least now she knows it’s staying close to her apartment. If she keeps leaving food and water out, maybe coaxes it with a few more treats, she can probably get it up to her apartment, and from there, find it a home.

Karen watches it walk away. Just hold on, she thinks, hold on a little longer—

The dog stops, looking over its shoulder at her. Then it’s gone, disappearing around the corner at the end of the alleyway. 

[callaghansjohnv]

Something About Her

Chapter Two: Lyndsey and reader anticipate their first date.

Notes: Enjoy! I hope you like!

“You fucking what?”

It was late Saturday morning, just passed 11, and you and Jason had met up at the gym. It was always something you looked forward to. A good workout provided you with a peace of mind that you knew you always needed. That, and it just felt fucking good. But this time, you hated yourself for going. You and Lyndsey have been texting nonstop since last night, and somehow Jason had a feeling that something had happened, and you may have let it all slip during a set of bench presses. And Jason’s now turning it into something extra.

“Jesus Christ,” You hissed. “Could you keep it down?”

Jason looked offended, “No? You got a girls number? At a fucking cemetery? This is the best thing that’s happened since that time you hooked up with that one girl from Zumies? I’m so proud of you?” He grabbed your shoulders and beamed. A girl with a high ponytail next to the hand weights looked over her shoulder, and gave you an inviting look. Your ears flushed.

You socked Jason in the arm, “Shut the fuck up, I swear to God, I’m never telling you anything about my life ever again.” Your muscle tank stuck to your sides, and you pulled it up to wipe the beads of sweat off of your face. You preceded to flip Jason off just before smiling apologetically at the ponytail girl. She returned it with more interest than you’d like, and then dropped her eyes to your ass.

Thankfully, your phone dinged. And thankfully, it was a text from Lyndsey, and you got out of awkwardly having to start up a conversation with a girl you were not interested in.

L: I know our date isn’t until later tonight but I seriously can’t stop thinking about how good it’s going to be(:

The smiley at the end of the text made your heart flutter. You type out a response.

Y/N: I can’t wait to actually see you

“Is that Lyndsey?” You look back to Jason, his eyes wiggling excitedly as you two walk out of the gym and into the parking lot. You beep your car unlocked.

“Even if it was, do you think I’d tell you?”

Another text from Lyndsey announces itself, but you don’t look at it.

“Hey… Y/N. Look, this is fucking great, okay? This is good for you. Getting out, meeting cute girls? You’ve been locked up in your goddamn room, lost in your goddamn mind because of B, and I just…. I want you to be happy, man. I’m just looking out for you.” This time, his words were sincere, and you knew all of them to be true. Ever since Blake passed, you hadn’t really been yourself. It was like there was an emptiness that you couldn’t fill, and nothing seemed to make you want to get up and live life. She was your life. And she was taken from you… Way too soon. 22. Gone. In a blink of a fucking eye, and it’s like nothing meant anything anymore. She was your best friend, and the love of your life, and you never had the chance to tell her how you felt. It killed you. It still kills you. And it didn’t fully hit you until this moment that it may have affected Jason. And that killed you too.

You let out a sigh, “Fuck. I’m sorry, Jace…. God, I’m the fucking worst. I love you.” You could feel your face getting hot. “I know that you’re here for me, and I’m eternally grateful for you, dude. I hope you know that. But, seriously? When I’m willing to talk to you about Lyndsey, I’ll talk. But I barely know her myself, and the thought of going on a date with her is…. I’m actually, honestly, shitting myself. And I haven’t felt this giddy since… Yeah, okay, probably since Maddie from Zumies. I don’t know… There’s something about her.”

Jason smiled, unlocking his white Jeep that was parked next to your beat-up Subaru. “Dude…. Whatever she’s doing, or hasn’t done just yet, it’s getting you to fucking smile. And that’s all I fucking care about. Now.. ” Jason pulls a hoodie out of his Jeep, and throws it over his head, “Let’s hug this out quick before this gets too sappy, and I regret talking about it.”

You met Jason back in high school. You had just been dubbed captain of the girls’ soccer team when you were officially invited to your first high school party. Everyone didn’t seem to mind that you were as gay as they came, especially after a game of 7 Minutes in Heaven with the most popular girl in school, and soon-to-be Homecoming Queen, Jamie Felton. It was the highlight of your Sophomore year. After that night, Jason came to you with open arms, and a friendship you never knew to be possible. He’s the brother you had always wanted, and the two of you have been inseparable ever since.

After squeezing Jason tight, you wave him off; Blink-182 blaring out of his window as he swerved off down the street. You get into your car, finally looking down at your phone to see Lyndsey’s response.

L: See me? You don’t know what I look like?

Y/N: It was dark?

Lyndsey responded quickly.

L: Why did you give me your number then?

Y/N: Because it seemed like you had cute attributes?

L: Cute attributes? Wow, is it 7 yet?

Y/N: You that eager to see me?

L: Why do you keep answering questions with more questions?

With a girl as cute as you presumed Lyndsey to be, you knew immediately that she had a good sense of humor. And that made your heart dance a little bit. You were excited to get to know her better. You had a ton of questions. What does she do? What’s her favorite color? Is she a dog person? A cat person? Does she have any siblings? What kind of music does she listen to? What are some of her hobbies? Her favorite movie? Place? Her favorite food? Does she like peanut butter as much as you do? Your head was swimming during the short ride back to your place.

Y/N: Maybe I like to keep you guessing?

You blessed the heavens when you find a parking spot close to your apartment complex, surprising as you usually have to walk five blocks  up 6th Ave. You lived alone. The roommate thing never really worked for you. You were introverted as fuck and you liked your space. That, and only paying $850/month in the city of Boston was a fucking miracle.

L: Maybe I kind of don’t mind that?

Y/N: Maybe there’s more where that came from?

L: Are you flirting with me, Y/N?

You took the elevator to floor three, your eyes glued to your phone, smiling, as you try to untangle your keys out of your pocket.

Y/N: And what if I am?

You unlocked #315. It wasn’t much, but it was home. A small kitchen was just to the right of the door, a round dining table was properly placed just behind a small sofa facing a decent-sized TV, and there was a hallway that led to your bedroom and bathroom just to the left. Quaint. Homey. It was just your size. You threw your jacket over the back of a chair, and headed to your room. You stripped down and ran a hot shower. Your muscles were tight after the workout this morning, and your mind drifted to later that night.

You hadn’t been on a date in God knows how long. You hadn’t had sex in what felt like ages, either, not since Maddie from Zumies, but really, you kind of didn’t count that as it wasn’t really your best choice. Not Maddie! Just that her boyfriend, Landon, was kind of still in the picture, and you had no idea…. Whatever. Sex wasn’t on your mind. It wasn’t that you were searching, or expecting sex from Lyndsey…. But the thought did cross your mind. It does with everyone, right? Fuck. You were nervous. Even in the shower, and in your own head, you were rambling. What if she eats with her mouth full? What if she orders just a salad? What if you get parsley stuck in your teeth? What if you spill shit on your shirt? What if Lyndsey’s only looking to bang tonight? You shut the water off, sliding the shower curtain away to reach for the towel. You head back into your room, and glanced down at your phone charging on your nightstand. Lyndsey texted you back.

L: Then you might be getting lucky tonight?

You stare at the text long enough that another bloop of a message pops up.

L: Totally kidding?

Y/N: Okay, but are you?

The three, little dots danced across your screen.

L: Do you want me to be?

For some reason, the conversation turned 0 to 100 real quick, and you found yourself trying to find a way to answer Lyndsey’s question with a question that didn’t lead to you actually wanting to fuck her.

Y/N: Next question?

L: Way to ruin the fun?

Y/N: We haven’t even been on our first date yet?

There was a long pause before Lyndsey’s response.

L: Haha I like you

Y/N: I like you too(:

And with that, nothing. Nada. Zip. Nothing until you dress yourself up in a nice, black button-up and your only pair of nice, black Chinos four hours later. You were just about to slip on your black Dock Martens when Lyndsey replied. It’s exactly 6pm.

L: Is it just me, or is a lot riding on this first date?

Y/N: What do you mean?

L: I don’t know? I feel like I know you but then I don’t know anything about you except that you have a serious fear of the night and you’re a good texter and you’re maybe, possibly cute? And I’m fucking ridiculous right now?

Y/N: (: You think I’m cute?

L: I thought we already established that?

Y/N: See you soon?

L: I hope so?

You send her that emoji with the girl running, along with the red car one, hoping it’d ease some of whatever she was feeling.

The restaurant was thankfully only about 20 minutes away, and it was super easy to get to. Arriving at the restaurant, and actually trying to locate Lyndsey from what you already, kind of expected her to look like? Not so much. There were, like, three other blondes sitting down at the tables. One of them was with a huge group of people, and another was with a dude. The other blonde could be Lyndsey if it weren’t for the red dress she was wearing. Process of elimination. You just knew Lyndsey wasn’t the dress type.

Did you beat her here? Did she bail on you? Did she get lost? Did she get in a car accident? Was this all just a dream?

There was a small, soft tap on your shoulder, and you turned around.

It was Lyndsey. And she was beautiful.

She had a long, black over-throw jacket that draped down to her calves, and a well-fitted, white, ‘Playboy’ shirt tucked into high-waisted, black jeans that were ripped at the knees. Her long, blonde hair cascaded down to her lower back, and her eyes…. They were hazel. And you got lost in them for about a half a second. She was mesmerizing. More so than what you possibly could have guessed at the cemetery. And again, there was something about her. Something inside you had lifted; your heart raced unimaginably quick, yet at the same time, your breath had evened out to a soft, low purr. And while it had only been less than 24 hours since the two of you had met, it felt like your souls had known each other for a thousand lives. And while the two of you walked to your assigned table, her hand brushing against yours, you couldn’t help, but wonder if it were true.

[junkobears]

Here Lies Dreaded V3 Discourse

So I have seemed to cause a huge kerfuffle in the hardcore Ouma conspiracy theorists standom, and a banal (if condescending, but seeing the response to it honestly justifies it more than anything now. “Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it”, you better believe I can take it and will now PROPERLY dish it out right back at you) comment about one of Tsumugi’s anime references has led to someone launching a hilariously personal attack at me for Daring To Disagree With A Theory That Was Posted On A Public Website. Someone who I wasn’t even initially responding too, at that. And has now blocked me before even allowing me to respond and clarify my original comments. Don’t want to deal with the consequences of being a repugnant, rude person I guess? Shock and surprise for Tumblr.

The link to the post is here, but I’ve taken the liberty to screenshot it just in case it gets deleted later, in hope that maybe there’ll be some reflection on this person’s part that this really is not an acceptable way to respond to people who have a dissenting opinion? Anyways, I will be responding to the personal attack post and that will be the last time I interact with this group, because clearly it’s not worth it to actually have a discussion about our respective ending theories. I ain’t got time beyond this for tedious insecure fucks these days.

Anyways, my response is under the cut to save my poor followers’ dashes. Sorry to drag drama onto my blog but I can’t really let this slide. I’m also tagging @jacks-plays-drv3 just because I assume the twin comes with the other with these two, and I want my response to have been seen.

Screenshot In This Link - This post is long enough without the image taking up more space, haha.

Let’s start with this mess, shall we? And I will go into painstaking detail.

Paragraph 1: So this already starts off with a whole lot of needless aggression and projection. So I’m not even going to attempt to be nice back. But: maybe I haven’t proven anything because I literally had not typed up a response to clarify my original comments @ Jacks yet before the rabid attack dog was unleashed? Like, there was literally no attempt from you to have a discussion that was a genuine offer from me, I was not out to get you actually. I also honestly just laughed at being called shallow, JUST LIKE THAT HORRIBLE CHARACTER TSUMUGI SHIROGANE right off the bat as well. That’s a compliment really, honey. Weirdly I don’t share the same opinions as you do. Tsumugi is my fave and unlike you I actually think about and HAVE analyzed/discussed her character in detail previously, which I would’ve been happy to share had you not immediately went into Blind Raging Idiot Mode. Guess we can’t have it all, huh?

As for needing proof that she makes the Flashback Lights... nevermind the CG that literally shows her making them during Chapter 6, but do you have proof that Monokuma is the person who makes the Lights instead of just placing them for the students? I doubt it, somehow. Cuz a lot of your theories don’t actually have any concrete proof. Quelle surprise. Probably why anyone not immediately on board with your headcanon gets you so goddamn angry, huh? Cuz it’s completely baseless and you know it at heart.

As for the Ouma comments, actually I have read the assorted creator comments regarding his character even if you like to believe I’m a slobbering moron who turned my brain off as soon as I finished V3, so yes I already know that his name was chosen to sound mastermind-like. Maybe this was to emphasize and make his fake mastermind reveal appear more legit on first read? JUST A THOUGHT, SWEETIE. You know the entire fucking point of Chapter 5? You’re so slavishly devoted to your theory that you actually are incapable of reading the basic fucking text from the actual game, but again. Not a surprise. Considering what I’ve read from your blog (really, who are you again? I only knew Jacks’ blog from before all this, so you taking such a personal offense at my comments is honestly hilarious but baffling at the same time. It ain’t all about you, babe.)

As for the lab door, here’s an simpler explanation (Occam’s Razor, look it up): The star sign constellation pattern was there as a hint for the player to connect Ouma’s messages from his dorm room to the vault in Amami’s lab once its opened and you can see the star signs in there. Or perhaps it was designed like that by TDR to make the students make that connection as well in the original script and think that Ouma was the mastermind cuz of the connection to Amami’s lab? Literally, there are a lot of possibilities, cuz it’s a NOTHING DETAIL THAT DOESN’T ACTUALLY MATTER IN THE BIG PICTURE. Considering Kodaka’s track record with writing these games I don’t actually believe it’s anything major, personally. He doesn’t really strike me as the type to hide this completely separate story underneath the actual story we got, and with such vague nothing “”””””””””””clues””””””””””””. You and Jacks do yourselves (well you already do cuz you love to jack yourselves off with how CLEVER AND BETTER you are than the rest of us plebs), sure, in believing otherwise (You have way too much faith in him as a writer. Or you’re desperately trying to pretend V3 wasn’t poorly written cuz you don’t like the Ch. 6 twist) but also realize that its nothing more than extrapolation on your part that it actually means anything beyond the.... SHALLOW (horror scream) connection given in-game.

And really, who the fuck cares if it doesn’t match the title of ‘Supreme Leader’? It’s already a ridiculous talent as it stands already. The entire point of his character is that everything about him, his motives and his talent is contradictory and weird. That’s why I like him, actually. He isn’t an abused martyr who never lies like you goons believe and he also isn’t the evil monstrous chessmaster some of the fandom thinks. It’s Complex Motives™ .

Anyways moving on. Pointing out an anime reference =/= DISREGARDING PEOPLE’S ANALYSIS. Pointing out that most of the plot leads up to and supports the fiction twist =/= uncritically agreeing with everything Tsumugi says. Actually, after examining the game’s story for myself I came to the conclusion that all the clues in it really only support her version of the story, really. There are a few things I think she lied about, but it is not CONCLUSIVELY proven she lied in my opinion and so I don’t really give a fucking toss until new canon comes out and reveals more of the V3 story. Oumatwin don’t real, gurl. If there was actually anything in-game beyond one obvious joke line in the NON-CANON!!!!!!! bonus mode supporting that he existed, maybe I’d respect your theory more. Even though you don’t deserve respect after your little tantrum. 

Paragraph 2: Jesus I already am investing way too much time into this response at people who don’t actually deserve it, oh well. But laughing hard at the attempt to try and act as if you weren’t being a snobby asshole with your comments. Again, HUGE AMOUNTS OF PROJECTION at me about things I literally have never done and said. I have never interacted with you or Jacks prior to my initial comment. No fucking clue why you brought up the SaiOuma shit, cuz I don’t even LIKE Saihara as a character and don’t like that fujobait ship in the slightest? But I guess it’s easier to assume that all your critics are the exact same fucking person with the same opinions, so you can feel more persecuted, huh? You literally did not even wait for me to respond or check my blog that would’ve easily disproven these dumb-as-fuck assumptions. And get off the fucking high horse (pun completely intended), you lot are not the only people in this fandom who are capable of critical thought. How completely self-obsessed can you be? 

For someone who claims to have a lot of critical thinking skills compared to this nasty fandom, you really are terrible at parsing other people’s words. You fucking know when I said “group of anime fans” that I was referring to Team Danganronpa, the organization literally mentioned in game as running the game. The group Tsumugi is part of. She literally has a company badge FFS. THEY ARE ANIME FANS. THEY ALL STARTED KILLING GAMES CUZ THEY ALL LOVE THIS SHITTY SERIES. I can’t believe this had to be explained. And the rest of this paragraph word salad is the most pedantic argument. It’s really not hard to believe an organization in this series would have access to all this tech. And yes, it’s a popular TV show in-universe, of course it’ll have funding. And the whole damn point of the ending is that the V3 world is consuming fiction the wrong way by having real-life killing games, missing the entire point of the DR series and fiction in general? What’s your actual point?

Paragraph 3: Again more assumptions, I wasn’t ‘crying’ about being called gullible. I was just pointing it out as part of your extremely unnecessary smug dismissal of my post. That you really haven’t disproved at all, btw. Honestly the childish response you both had to me just makes me laugh out of pity more than anything. And if I was really upset I wouldn’t have offered to have a discussion with you or even continued to reply after Jacks initial (vague) post about what I said. So don’t put words in my mouth. And yes my analysis was not completed in my initial comments. It’s Tumblr fucking replies, I can’t fit the entire fucking dissertation of Tsumugi opinions in there for you to jeer at in there. Again, I offered to share my opinions and got this as a response, so lol. You are your own worst enemy when it comes to trying to get people to take you and your theories seriously. 

Paragraph 4: Especially since you immediately jump to PULLING THINGS OUT OF YOUR ASS (seriously, fucking snorted at this part. I want this whole diatribe on my fucking gravestone. It’s by far the most hilariously petty thing ever said about me on this site.) instead of letting me explain my position. If you just want to be in the creepy cult Oumatwin echo chamber you should’ve just said and blocked me ASAP instead of word salading vague bullshit justifications for why actually people who disagree with you are just stupid crybabies who can never hope to understand your genius. Again, my initial comments didn’t whine about not being taken seriously at all, I was pointing out the hypocrisy/rudeness is all. And again, get off the high horse about critical thinking. I have thought about Tsumugi’s character and how she relates to the over-arching plot and how truthful it is, and the overall ‘mystery’ of V3 (spoiler: there is none. it was all solved by chapter 6). I have thought about this game. In fact I dedicate too much time to critical analysis of this series that doesn’t actually deserve it cuz lately I find Kodaka to be a hack writer. Your assumptions are flat-out wrong, dear. And AGAIN. I WOULD’VE. SHARED AND DISCUSSED IN MORE DETAIL HAD I BEEN GIVEN THE OPPORTUNITY. But rude fucks gonna vomit shit out of their mouth cuz they have literally no self-control and have meltdowns at the slightest difference of opinion, I guess. 

Your extreme hatred for Tsumugi as a character truly shines through. Clearly no thought has been put into her from your end, even though you and Jacks rage about people not taking Ouma seriously as a character. Double standards as always with fujos. Nothing I’m not used too, she is incredibly unpopular in this fandom. And everyone is entitled to their own opinions. So I’m not even mad at that. I have never said otherwise. Even you and Jacks are valid in having your own theories and thoughts. The ending of V3 is designed entirely so everyone can analyze the game for themselves and draw their own conclusions about the story and themes. That’s the whole point. Even though I personally dislike that as a writing decision on Kodaka’s part because I would prefer the story to be conclusively ended and the epilogue is a giant turd that misses the entire point of Chapter 6 and enables shit (anal pun intended, dumbass) like this to start spreading as “Analysis”. But hey, to each their own.

However I will not be interacting with either of you again after this post though, even though I was willing to discuss beforehand, because you both have shown yourselves to be incredibly vile with the way you approach other people in this fandom, and especially those who don’t share your conspiracy theory. Despite the absolutely ironic comments I’ve seen from Oumanous in their later, also terrible posts about how you need to understand your opponent before engaging, which they literally failed entirely to do before engaging the firing squad at me and other commentators who responded. So much for the sanctity of discussion, huh? Enjoy your circlejerk. Everyone else who follows me in this fandom though? Please consider blocking these two if you are also a sane human being who is capable of polite discussion/disagreements. They are not worth your time otherwise. They were really not worth my time writing this post, but I felt I had to say something.

In conclusion: Out with the both of you.

[andromeda---galaxy]

pumpkin, cheddar and taffy

Lukas is sitting on the couch with Philip's feet in his lap when his phone starts ringing. He briefly looks at Philip, narrowing his eyes, and for a small moment he has no idea who might be calling him. It's got to be some kind of spam shit, because he literally just got off the phone with his dad, and if Helen and Gabe wanted to do some kind of secret surprise for Philip, they'd text or email. 

 He sees the name ANGELA flashing on his phone. 

 "Oh hey!" he says. "It's the nice girl from the subway!"

 "Oh cool!" Philip says. "Answer!"

 "Right, right," Lukas says, fumbling to press the right button before the call drops. "Hello?"

"Lukas! That you?"

 "Angela, hey!" he says, grinning. He'd sorta been hoping she'd call, because they're in desperate need of some real friends. He's been texting with her a good amount since the subway incident, and he actually genuinely likes her. Mark has completely fallen to the wayside since he found out Lukas wasn't looking for a way out of his relationship, and everyone in their study groups seems way too into studying to actually go out and do something fun. "We keep missing each other for lunch!” Lukas says, smiling over at Philip, who smiles back.

 "I know, sweetie, but life has been getting in the damn way," Angela says. "Listen, I hate to be calling with a favor the first time I call, but I figure our six hour experience brought us a little closer than a normal first meetin', and everybody else just ain't reliable or ain't coming through. And absolutely tell me if this ain't something that's not gonna work for you—"

 "What is it?" Lukas asks, looking at Philip again. Philip cocks his head and Lukas shrugs, listening.

 "I've got this emergency job thing in Long Island—it's basically an opportunity I've been waitin' for but it came a lot quicker than expected. Everybody I've asked is either unavailable or untrustworthy. I didn't wanna bother you but, well—"

 "I'm listening," he says, trying to recall all the things she's mentioned to him for the month they've been texting. 

 "Remember those puppies I told you I adopted?" she asks.

 "Yeah..." Lukas says, slowly. It was a little bit after they first met and something she'd wanted to do for a long time. He'd gotten caught up in a group text with some of her friends from California, but when he showed Philip the picture of the three Australian shepherd puppies he'd shrieked and nearly clawed off his own face. 

 "Well, they need someone to look after 'em," she says. "I’m stayin’ overnight, it'd be this Friday through Sunday, one day for each little lunatic, and no one else is steppin' up. You can obviously say no—"

 "Once sec," Lukas says, pressing mute on his phone.

 "What is it?" Philip asks. "Am I finally gonna get to meet her?"

 "She wants us to watch those three—"

 Philip's eyes light up and he swings his feet down to hit the floor, almost instantly closing the distance between them. He grabs Lukas's knee. "The puppies? She wants us to watch the puppies?"

 Lukas laughs, taking in the pure joy on Philip's face. "I take it that means yes?"

 "Yes, I'll skip class," Philip says, nodding. "When?"

 "I love that you said you'd skip class not even knowing which class you'd be skipping," Lukas says, smiling fondly at him. 

 "I'd rob a bank for those puppies, Lukas," Philip says, seriously. 

 "Definitely a yes," Lukas says, taking the phone off mute and bringing it back to his ear. "Yeah, Angela?"

 "You askin' Philip?"

 "Yeah, which didn't take much. He's excited. We're gonna do it."

 "Oh my God," she says, sighing loudly. "Boy, you two are doing me a big favor here. Never thought I'd be thankful that subway stopped on us."

 Lukas snorts. "When do you think you'll be over on Friday?" 

 "How's eleven sound?" she asks. "I gotta haul up all their supplies, I hope it doesn't make you rethink—"

 "We're not gonna back out," Lukas says, glancing at Philip's excited face in his peripheral. "You don't yet understand how much Philip likes dogs."

 ~

 Lukas watches Philip run around the apartment, picking up the smallest goddamn feather off the ground and putting it in the trash. He rearranges the blankets on the couch about a hundred times and stands there staring at it, like there has to be something wrong. 

 "Philip," Lukas says, walking over and rubbing his back. "They're puppies. They're not going to judge you."

 "I want it to be comfortable," Philip says. 

 "It's perfect," Lukas says, kissing him on the cheek. “They’re going to love it.”

 "Anyways, an actual human that isn't the two of us is coming by too," Philip says, leaning into him. "Your friend I've been wanting to meet!"

 "Hopefully we can hang out with her more when she gets back," Lukas says. "Maybe we'll hang out with her and the puppies."

 "The most ideal situation," Philip says, and then there's a knock at the door.

 They walk over and open the door, revealing Angela standing there with a big grin on her face. She's got one big carrying case, along with two bags full of God knows what. She's just as pretty as Lukas remembers and he's a little startled when she sits everything down, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around both of them at the same time.

 "Thank you thank you thank you!" she chants, jumping up and down a little bit. She pulls back and Lukas can vaguely hear Philip gasp when they hear a little bark come from the carrier. "Lukas, it's amazing to see you above ground."

 "Right back at you," Lukas says, watching her hone in on Philip.

 "And here he is," she says, beaming at him. "You're just a little doll. You should have seen how much your boy wanted to get back to you. It was the cutest thing."

 "I heard about it," Philip says, making eye contact with Lukas.

 Angela hums, widening her eyes. "Sounds like your night turned out better than mine did," she says. 

 Lukas laughs and sees Philip go red.

 There's another set of barks and Philip looks about fit to burst, clenching his hands in front of him. 

 Angela looks down, starting to kneel. Lukas kicks the door closed behind her. "Well, let’s meet the little monsters," she says, opening the cage door. 

 Both Lukas and Philip crouch down next to her and Philip has to muffle his exclamation when the puppies come marching out. They're all different colors, so distinctive and different, and the one that's mostly white immediately makes for Philip, nudging its little face into his hand to make him pet it. 

 "Oh my God," Philip whispers, his voice breaking. 

 "That's little Pumpkin, always gettin' into everybody's business," Angela says, clicking her tongue.

 The other two briefly look at Lukas before moving past him and into the living room. "They have food names too, right?" Lukas asks, looking at Angela.

 "Cheddar and Taffy," Angela says. "Taffy's the chunkier one. Loves her treats, little nasty thing. Won't eat no normal food if she ain't got treats to go along with it."

 "Noted," Lukas says, watching Philip pick Pumpkin up. He holds her in his hands so delicately, nuzzling their noses together. Lukas’s stomach does a little flip as he watches the display, and he clears his throat when he looks back at Angela. 

 "I've got all their food for the weekend, they sleep inside the carrier because they're still interested in cuddling."

 Philip whines a little bit from high in his throat, looking over his shoulder at Taffy and Cheddar. 

 "And they're potty trained?" Lukas asks, wincing a little bit at how stupid that sounds coming out of his mouth.

 "Yep, they love their walks," Angela says, patting the floor in front of her.  Cheddar turns around as soon as he hears the sound, toddling back over to slide down in front of her.

 "So Pumpkin and Taffy are girls?" Philip asks, holding Pumpkin against his chest. 

 "Yep, and Cheddar's the little boy troublemaker," Angela says. She sighs, smiling at Philip and Pumpkin. "You two sure this ain't too much of an imposition? Lukas, I mean, we met once and now I'm dumping three children on you and your boyfriend. Not the usual way the situation goes down—"

 Lukas snorts, watching Philip laugh. He leans back and scoops Cheddar up too, leaving Lukas to scoot across the floor and block Taffy off from marching into their laundry room. Her little chocolate brown eyes bore into his own, and he knows that if he's falling in love with these puppies that Philip is definitely already gone.

 "It's gonna be great," Lukas says, nodding at Angela. "We're gonna have an amazing time."

 ~

 Once Angela is gone Lukas feels like the puppies can sense his nervousness. Taffy has the little gold marks above her eyes that make her look angry, and he constantly feels like she's judging him. It doesn't help that she follows him everywhere he goes, including into the bathroom. 

 Philip sets out their dishes on the kitchen floor, giggling when he sees them watching him. "They look apprehensive," he says, looking up at Lukas.

 "Just make sure to give Taffy the treats or we're gonna have a testy puppy on our hands," Lukas says, watching her. She's set back a little from Cheddar and Pumpkin, who are sitting close to Philip's foot and staring up at him.

 "They're so well behaved," Philip says, pouring what looks like an inordinate amount of food into the bowls. 

 "Don't go crazy, we don't want them ballooning up over the three days she's gone," Lukas says. "And you're gonna jinx it with this well behaved talk. Later on Cheddar is gonna tear something up."

 "Why are you preemptively blaming Cheddar?" Philip asks, sitting down in front of the bowls after the puppies walk over and start eating.

 "He's a boy," Lukas says, shrugging. "The boys are always the more difficult ones."

 "True," Philip says, scoffing. He pets Pumpkin's head lightly as they eat, smiling down at them.

 Lukas feels his chest going warm. "You already have a favorite, babe."

 "I do not," Philip says, looking up at him. "All puppies are my favorites."

 "Mmhm." Lukas watches him gaze down at them, watches Cheddar stumble a little bit and knock into Taffy. Philip and Lukas both laugh, shaking their heads. 

 ~

 They take them for a walk and Philip is so paranoid about them getting into the street, despite being on leashes and being distracted by every blade of grass. Once they do their business Philip takes to carrying them around in his arms, looking half panicked, like someone is going to steal them. Lukas keeps staring at him with the three whining puppies in his arms and his stomach twists as they start back home. 

 "I need a picture of you," Lukas says, walking backwards and pulling his phone out of his pocket.

 "They want to get down," Philip says, kissing the top of Pumpkin's head. "But I'm afraid. They're precious cargo."

 "You're precious cargo," Lukas says, taking about ten pictures in a quick sequence so he can pick his favorite later.

 ~

 Around six that night Lukas is making tacos, listening to the insistent squeak of one of the hundred toys Angela left with them. He hears his phone buzzing on the counter, looks over to see a text from Angela.

 Those munchkins harassed you to death yet?

 Lukas chuckles, quickly typing his reply. They're too cute for their own good. Philip is gonna want a dog after this.

 "Lukas, I want a dog," Philip calls, and then there's the sound of a squeaker toy being hurled across the living room, twelve little feet rushing after it. 

 Lukas snorts, looking over his shoulder. "I knew you were going to say that," he says. The puppies all latch on to the toy, which looks like it used to be a lobster before three sets of teeth got to it, and they all growl at each other, tugging it back and forth. Philip is pointing his phone at them, the camera sound going off over and over. 

 "You sending pictures to Helen and Gabe?" Lukas asks, looking back to the beef on the burner.

 "Yeah," Philip says. "Prepare for not so subtle messages about getting your boyfriend a new puppy."

 "I'm already ready," Lukas says. 

 ~

 "Philip, they like to be crated," Lukas says, but he knows it's not helping that he's holding Taffy and Cheddar, the two of them lolling and falling asleep in his arms. Cheddar keeps making little yipping sounds in his sleep and Lukas is nearly dying of cute. 

 Philip looks horrified, sitting with Pumpkin in his lap on the bed. 

 "I even brought the carrier in here," Lukas says, gesturing to it in the corner by their bed. "So they'll be close."

 "Did you put water in there?" Philip asks, holding Pumpkin possessively. "And their blankets?"

 That brings on an unexpected vision into Lukas's mind's eye. The two of them and a baby. It's not that much more than that, just an image, a brief feeling, but it hits him so hard that he nearly passes out. He shakes his head and remembers he's holding two puppies. "Yeah," he says, his voice breaking. He walks over, depositing Taffy and Cheddar into the carrier, making sure to fluff the blankets around them.

 "Okay," Philip says, kissing the top of Pumpkin's head five or six times before walking over and putting her in the carrier with her siblings. Lukas closes the door and walks over to turn off the light. The whole room is quickly bathed in darkness, only the streetlights sending strips of gold in through their window. 

 "Come on," Lukas says, finding Philip among the shadows and tugging him to bed. 

 Philip groans a little bit but follows him without a word. Lukas pulls the sheets back and gets under them, feeling the bed dip when Philip climbs in after him. They turn onto their sides and Lukas wraps his arms around him, kissing the spot under Philip's ear. 

 "You're so cute with these puppies," Lukas whispers. "I can't stand it."

 "They're our children for three days," Philip says back, pressing a dry kiss to Lukas's throat. "Our little, furry, precious children."

 "Guess we're glad that subway stopped, huh?" Lukas asks, his mind wandering a bit. 

 "I mean, if I had known puppies would be part of the deal I wouldn't have been so worried," Philip says, nudging closer to him.

 Lukas laughs, shaking his head. "Goodnight, baby. I love you."

 "I love you too," Philip says, and Lukas can already tell he's drifting to sleep.

 ~

 When Lukas wakes up he's alone in the bed. He's had nightmares like that before and the reality of it startles him awake. 

 "Babe?" he asks, his voice raspy as he sits up on his elbows. And as soon as he does he can see him—Philip is goddamn sleeping on the floor in front of the puppy carrier. His hand is hanging on the door and all three puppies are huddled up against it. The four of them are sleeping soundly and Lukas just stares for a few moments, a soft smile forming on his face. He wonders how long he's been down there, and he's a little annoyed at himself for sleeping through it.

 He starts to get up when he realizes he needs to capture this moment before waking Philip up, so he grabs his phone from the bedside table and leans over the side of the bed. He takes a couple pictures from multiple angles and then realizes that he's just standing there staring at him again, a goofy idiot smile on his face. Philip is breathing softly through his mouth and Lukas knows it's impossible to measure how much he loves him.

 He kneels next to him and touches his shoulder. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty," he whispers, running the backs of his fingers down Philip's cheek. 

 Philip stirs a little, groaning. 

 "What in the hell made you sleep down here?" Lukas says, watching him wince as he sits up.

 "They were crying," Philip says, and Lukas sits down all the way so Philip can lean against him. "And you were so dead asleep that I had to take care of it."

 Lukas scoffs. "You know you can wake me up."

 Philip smiles, shifting to wrap his arms around Lukas's middle. "I'm kidding. I didn't exactly plan on falling asleep on the floor but they were all nuzzling my hand and passing out on top of each other—"

 "Hard to resist," Lukas says, kissing Philip's forehead. "Now you know how I feel when you get all drunk and cuddly."

 Philip laughs, shaking his head. 

 "You just nudge at me and collapse on top of me and it's the cutest goddamn thing in the world," Lukas says, rubbing his shoulder.

 "Not as cute as puppies," Philip says. 

 "Let me be the judge of that," Lukas says. "And anyway, you and puppies, as I've been noticing, is the ultimate combination."

 Philip beams up at him. "Kiss me."

 "Mmm, good idea," Lukas says, and does just that.

 ~

 "Lukas!" he hears Philip yelling. "Lukas, Lukas!"

 There's loud music playing in the bedroom and Lukas nearly drops the knife he's making them sandwiches with.

 "What?" he yells, running out of the kitchen and towards his voice, and when he turns the corner he sees Philip sitting in the middle of the bed with all three puppies. Philip looks absolutely enamored and Lukas can see why—the puppies are all three howling, their heads thrown back to the ceiling. 

 "They like Troye Sivan," Philip says, his eyes bright. "Did you know they could do this? Did she mention this?" 

 Lukas finds himself grinning and he shakes his head. "How long have they been at it?"

 "They started with Fools so I've been playing it on repeat," Philip says.

 "Lemme get my phone," Lukas says, and he rushes out of the room, nearly skidding and slamming into the kitchen counter when he grabs it. He rushes back and starts filming right away when he sees they're still doing it. Philip sings along, holding his hands out in front of the puppies. Lukas stops filming when they stop howling, Taffy stepping forward and toppling over onto her back. Philip rubs her tummy, grinning.

 "That's gonna go viral," Lukas says, watching it back on his phone as Philip turns the music down. "You think Angela would be mad we put her babies on the internet?"

 "Ask first, but I doubt it," Philip says, putting Pumpkin on one knee and Cheddar on the other. "Everyone wants their animals to be famous."

 ~

 Lukas finds out Pumpkin's favorite toy is a pink flamingo that's bigger than she is, and she runs away from him whenever he tries to get it from her. She backs Lukas up against the wall at one point when he has it, climbing up his chest and attacking his neck to try and get it back from him. 

 "She's attacking me, Philip!" Lukas says, putting his hand around her little body. She growls and nips at his shirt, shaking it back and forth.

 "Serves you right, taking her flamingo," Philip says, handing Taffy a treat.

 "You're not helping!" Lukas says, his eyes closed tight. He lowers the flamingo a little bit and feels her lunge for it, yipping and sliding down his chest. He hears the camera go off and he opens his eyes. Philip is aiming his phone at them, Cheddar looking up expectantly. "We're gonna have a whole album of puppy pictures," Lukas says. "Angela is gonna think we're insane."

 "No, more like she's gonna want us to babysit again," Philip says, taking a few more pictures, handing Cheddar a treat too. "I wish I could take Polaroids of them but I know they'd just turn out like little blurs."

 "It'd look like an alien attack," Lukas says, dropping the flamingo and watching Taffy make for it. Pumpkin barks, loud for a puppy her size, and tries to run over and get there first. Lukas looks over and sees Cheddar give up on Philip's attention, moving to a pizza toy and flopping down on top of it. "Look," Lukas says. "Cheddar pizza."

 Philip snorts. "Cute."

 ~

 Philip tries to teach them things after dinner, like sit and roll over. It fails spectacularly but Lukas revels in watching the whole thing go down, sitting by silently and enjoying how much fun Philip is having. The puppies watch his animated hand gestures, follow him with their eyes but never do what he says, and Lukas knows he and Philip have fun here, all the day, all the time, but he doesn't think he's seen Philip look this happy in a while. The puppies seem to love him, and eventually stop sitting and waiting for him to give up the treats, tromping forward and diving into his outstretched hands. Philip laughs and Lukas's heart soars.

 The puppies fall asleep early that night after their eventful day, and Angela texts Lukas a couple more times saying how thankful she is, and how well everything is going in Long Island, how she’s probably gonna get the job and do the commute every day, but it’ll be worth it. Lukas is genuinely happy for her, thinking for a moment what things will be like when he starts on a motocross circuit and Philip starts taking photography jobs. They put the puppies away in the carrier, and Philip puts the pink flamingo in as an afterthought.

 "Are you gonna wind up on the floor again?" Lukas asks, watching Philip peel his shirt off.

 "I don't know what the future holds," Philip says, smirking.

 "We gotta let them grow up," Lukas says, walking over to him. "We can't cater to their every whim."

 "Yes we can," Philip says, narrowing his eyes. "They're puppies. I'd die for them."

 "Die for them, rob a bank," Lukas says, sliding his hands across Philip's hips. "I don't know what kinda stuff they're asking you to do when I'm not around. They sound like little gangsters."

 "Fluffy and lovable is just their cover," Philip says, humming a little bit when Lukas presses him back against the bed. "We can't have sex, baby."

 Lukas whines a little bit, splaying his hand out on Philip's lower back. "Why not?"

 "There are children in the room, Lukas," Philip says, his eyes wide, a little pout on his lips. "There's no way."

 Lukas shakes his head, knows he probably won't change his mind, but leans in to kiss him anyway. They sway back and forth a little bit and Philip shakes his head, groaning.

 "No, babe," Philip says. "We can't be obscene."

 "We can go under the covers."

 Philip snorts, kissing him again. "When they're gone, Sunday night. It's a date."

 "This worries me," Lukas says, teasing in his voice as he leans in to kiss Philip's cheek. "If we get a dog..."

 "Different situation," Philip says, his voice wavering a little bit when Lukas starts to kiss his neck. "These guys could report back to Angela and then they'll never visit again."

 "Report back," Lukas says, smirking. 

 "Oh, they'll know," Philip says. "But our dog will be our dog. He'll probably sleep like a log. Like you. Snoring included."

 "Philip, stop lying to yourself, I don't snore," Lukas says, looking into his eyes. 

 "Mmhm, sure."

 "Let's just kiss then," Lukas says, touching his face. "They can't be offended by kissing."

 "Okay," Philip says. They get into bed and under the covers and Philip is on him fast, bringing their mouths together. Lukas lets his hands roam up and down Philip's body, tangling his fingers in his hair.

 "You don't care that we're not having sex?" Philip asks against his mouth.

 "Of course not," Lukas whispers. "Baby, if you only let me hold you for the rest of your life I'd be good with it. I just wanna be near you."

 Philip leans back a little bit, and even in the darkness Lukas can tell he's blushing.  "That's really..." He scoffs, dipping his head down. 

 "I know, I'm really romantic," Lukas says, shrugging. Philip looks up again, with his beautiful eyes, and Lukas shakes his head. "You really got a hold on me," Lukas whispers. Sometimes he's still shocked at how vulnerable Philip makes him feel, but other times it feels like the most commonplace thing there is.

 "I'm not gonna let go," Philip whispers, tugging him down so they can kiss again.

 ~

 The next day Philip is moping around, knowing that Angela is gonna come back and the puppies are gonna be gone. He sits in front of them as they eat, and Cheddar makes little noises as he plows through his food, almost sounds like a dinosaur. 

 Lukas looks up and sees the expression on Philip's face. He's shifting his mouth to the side, chewing on the inside of his cheek, and Lukas knows the dam is about to break. 

 "You guys are so cute," Philip says. "And you're gonna be gone and we have to go back to class and..." He trails off with a sigh. He pets the tops of their heads, lingering a little with Pumpkin, and before Lukas can say anything Philip gets up and leaves the room.

 "Baby," Lukas says, getting up to follow him, but when he turns the corner he sees Philip is right there, laying on the carpet. He's staring at the ceiling and Lukas sighs, laying down next to him. He reaches down and links their hands together. "Angela is our buddy," he says.

 "I know," Philip says. 

 “Even if she gets the job she’s not moving to Long Island,” Lukas says. “She’s gonna do the commute.”

 “Yeah, you said,” Philip says.

 "We're gonna see the puppies again," Lukas says, watching Philip's throat bob. 

 "I believe you," Philip says.

 "Then what's wrong, huh?" Lukas asks, squeezing his hand.

 "I'm just being...dramatic," Philip says, reaching up to wipe at his eyes. "I'm sad they're leaving but I'm just getting weirdly...emotional."

 "About what?" Lukas asks, brushing his fingers over Philip's cheek.

 "Just us," Philip says. "These past days with the puppies have felt so...I don't know. Just like a life I never thought I'd have. I feel that all the time with you but with them here too it just feels so..."

 "Domestic?" Lukas asks. 

 "Yeah," Philip says, turning his head. "Sometimes I worry you'll get sick of me."

 "I won't, ever," Lukas says, fast. "I'm in love with you. I'll never....I'll never stop being in love with you."

 Philip looks like he's fighting a smile and he nods. "I know. I know and this weekend...with these puppies, stupid as it sounds....I could really, really see our future. Like it felt really, really solid—" His voice breaks and he covers his face with his hand. "Nothing has ever felt so...solid in my life but you...you and me..."

 "We're solid as a rock, Philip," Lukas says, and as he's saying it he feels the puppies marching between them, Pumpkin yipping and stumbling into Philip. 

 "Oh my God," Philip says, craning his neck to look down at them. Cheddar hops up onto Philip's chest and Philip laughs, grabbing Pumpkin and putting her onto his far shoulder. 

 Taffy growls at Lukas as she attempts to climb up his leg and he laughs, scooping her up and putting her in the center of his chest. 

 "I need to get a picture of this," Lukas says, shifting a little to pull his phone out of his pocket. The puppies all whine and make little noises, Pumpkin licking Philip's jaw while Cheddar is getting himself comfortable on his chest. Lukas scoots closer and holds out his phone above them, kissing Philip's cheek and taking the picture. 

 "That's adorable," Philip says, the two of them looking at it.

 "New phone wallpaper," Lukas says, his chest going warm. He holds Taffy so she doesn't tumble away and kisses Philip's cheek again, three times in quick succession. "We're gonna have as many dogs as you want, babe."

 "When we get out of school?" Philip asks. 

 "Whenever you want," Lukas says, kissing his temple. “And we’re gonna stay solid. Always.”

 He knows Angela will be here in about two hours. But his mind keeps flashing to their future, all the possibilities that once could have felt scary and strange, now feel warm and incredible. And it's all because of Philip, and how goddamn much Lukas loves him. This love feels like gold, like something so deep and full that he could never explore every aspect of it. But he knows he's gonna try. Take all the years they can scrounge up to do every single thing in the world together.

 "Tell Angela we can babysit these nerds any time she wants," Philip says, rubbing Cheddar's belly. 

 "Oh, I think she realizes they have two new gay uncles," Lukas says, making Philip laugh. "Maybe we can hide the flamingo here. Make them have to come back."

 Philip meets his eyes, grinning wide. "Good idea," he says.

 "C'mere," Lukas whispers. They meet in the middle, bringing their mouths together, puppies close and in hand. 

[individuationfic]

Seeking to Seize Chapter 20

AO3

This place is nice, Teddie thinks. It’s calm in a way he’s not used to; the couches are nice and soft, and there’s plenty to eat and drink, and the oly sounds are the gentle purring of an engine and a soft aria and its accompaniment. Maybe, he thinks, it’s a little too nice for a bear like me.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting here when, between blinks, Sensei arrives. His heart thunder in his ears as he waits for Sensei’s anger (because it’s his fault Nana-chan is dead) but instead Sensei looks relieved. He fumbles around where he sits catty corner from Teddie for a paper and a pen and starts writing.

We were all worried, the note Sensei slides to Teddie reads. Nanako recovered. She’s been asking about you. The writing is messy, like Sensei’s hand was shaking (like Teddie’s paws are now, because Nana-chan is okay and she wants to see him). We found the real culprit. It’s Adachi, not Namatame. He has a place in the TV world, we think. Will you help us again?

Teddie’s floored. Not only is Sensei not mad, he wants his help again! Sensei is so kind, so still like a useless bear like him. Well, he thinks, if Sensei thinks I can help, I need to do everything I can, because he and the rest of the team are all I’ve got.

Shaking, he puts one of his paws in Sensei’s hand, and he feels warm again.

Shit!

Yu isn’t fast enough to avoid the Shadow and finds himself back at the entrance to Magatsu Mandala. The others are safe for now; they would have teleported out with him, otherwise.

Rise gives him a sympathetic smile. She moved to the Mandala’s entrance once they figured out the gimmick to better support them. She hands him a can of Mad Bull for his energy, and he eagerly downs it.

‘What’s up?’ he signs, noticing her somber face.

She’s gotten a lot better at signing, so she uses it to respond. ‘Don’t worry about me.’

‘You’re a dear friend. Of course I’m worried. You haven’t been yourself these last few days.’

Rise still looks reluctant. ‘It doesn’t just concern me,’ she settles on, ‘and it’s not my place to talk about it.’

That seems like an excuse to Yu. Before he can call that out, though, Yosuke and Naoto appear at the entrance with a flash of light, looking irritated, and he decided not to push any harder for now.

Yosuke somehow convinces his parents to let him stay at Yu’s place. He’s sure it has something to do with Nanako-chan and Dojima still being in the hospital, but he’s still surprised he gets to sleep over on a school night.

They have to make a pit stop at his place so he can grab pajamas and a new pair of underwear. Yosuke takes the opportunity to try to calm his racing heart. He has no reason to be getting all excited; he’s staying the night at Yu’s place to make sure he’s not alone because his uncle and cousin are in the hospital, hormones, so chill out.

Besides, he thinks, I don’t even know if he likes me like that.

Because you’ve never asked.

Who asked you?

Yu rolls a futon out on his bedroom floor for him despite his protests. ‘The couch would have been fine,’ he signs when the deed is done. ‘I’ve slept on couches before.’

His friend shoots him a look. ‘This couch feels like cinder blocks covered in felt. I wouldn’t let a dog sleep on it, much less my best friend.’

Best friend.

Sure, Yosuke’s known all along that Yu’s friendship with him is different than his friendship with the others. Yosuke was there first. Chie and Yukiko showed him around town, but Yosuke saw Izanagi first, fought alongside him first, supported him first. Of course their bond is a little different.

But it’s still nice for the actual statement to be made.

Yu still looks stressed, so before they turn in, Yosuke signs, ‘We’ll get him, Partner. We’ve done it before, and we’ll do it again.’

And when Yu smiles, it seems forced, but Yosuke still counts that as a win.

Yukiko feels absolutely exhausted.

Magatsu Inaba is rough, and she’s still the group’s primary healer, so her magic is really draining her. She’s burning through their supply of somas very quickly. Yu has never told them how much their supplies cost; Yukiko wonders how much money he’ll have to spend to replace what she’s using.

When she stumbles into the inn that night, her mother and father are busy putting up decorations for Christmas. They’re always pretty busy on romantic holidays, and not even a serial killer could put a stop to that. It’s a delicate art, blending Western-style Christmas decorations with a traditional Japanese hot springs inn, but it is an art the Amagi family has mastered over the years.

Oh, crap.

Christmas is coming up.

Christmas is coming up and she has a girlfriend.

She tosses her shoes in the shoe cupboard, takes a moment to wince at the clattering sound they make, and scurries to her room before her parents can scold her for it.

Sure, Christmas probably isn’t something she should waste her time worrying about when she and her friends are trying to catch a serial killer in an alternate universe inside a television, but all this doom and gloom is making Yukiko insane. It’s not her fault Adachi decided to go on a killing streak! And it’s not like she asked for a Persona. No offense, she thinks at Konohana Sakuya.

None taken, her Persona replies. You have the right to be angry about your situation. Had things gone differently, you would not have to worry now.

So Yukiko lets herself think about Christmas.

She wants to do something for Chie. If Chie remembers about Christmas, it can be an exchange, and if she doesn’t, it can be a pleasant surprise. But what could she buy for Chie? She doesn't have enough spending money to get that new Trial of the Dragon box set or exercise equipment, and any kind of jewelry in Yukiko’s price range wouldn’t interest her. Maybe they could go out for steak? But they already go to Aiya’s at least once a week, so that’s not really special enough for Christmas.

A gift need not be material, Konohana Sakuya reminds her gently. There are many things you could give to her without spending any money.

Yukiko flushes at the implication, but has to admit it’s a good idea. But only if we catch Adachi before Christmas, she insists. We don’t need another distraction.

Then you had best work hard.

We will.

They still have to get revenge for putting Nanako-chan in the hospital, after all.

Rise knows she’s being a coward about this whole thing. She could argue that she’s focusing on catching Adachi or improving her navigational skills or her studies, but the truth is that she’s avoiding Kanji-kun and Naoto-san out of embarrassment,

And she misses them. God, she misses them. Setting aside romantic attraction, they’re her best friends. She misses eating lunch with them, misses walking home with Kanji-kun, misses texting Naoto-san for homework help. But how can she even try to act like everything is normal?

Part of her wants to blame Kanji-kun for kissing her. At least before then it was easy to pretend. Pining, she thinks, is easier than having feelings reciprocated.

They’re almost to Adachi, Rise thinks, when Yu-senpai calls it quits that day. She’s been getting more and more uncomfortable the further in they go; Adachi isn’t fond of women in the slightest, and this place he’s constructed doesn’t hide his distaste. And the door they stop in front of so Yu-senpai can use the GoHo-M radiates misogyny.

They say goodbye to Teddie, who’s seemed much more confident in and comfortable with himself lately, and make their way back to Junes. ‘Rest up,’ Yu-senpai instructs. ‘We have a big day tomorrow, and we all need to be at our best.’

“You rest up, too,” Chie-senpai says. “You’ve been staying late at the hospital, right? Sleeping in those chairs can’t be good for your back.”

Yu-senpai gives her a wry smile. ‘I’ll be sure to find a chiropractor—’ he finger spells “chiropractor” so they all understand— ‘when I get back to Tokyo.’

Out of the corner of her eye, Rise sees Yosuke-senpai wilt. But then he puts on a smile and signs, ‘Come on, Partner, my mom told me to invite you to dinner tonight. She says she’s worried you’re not eating enough.’

Yu-senpai nods and allows himself to be led away. Rise tries to slip away while the others are focused on their leader but she’s stopped by calloused fingers curling around her wrist, pulling her arm taught. “We need to talk,” Kanji-kun says in her ear, voice low, and she has to suppress a shiver.

Rise looks over Kanji-kun’s shoulder. Yukiko-senpai and Chie-senpai are speaking to each other with quiet voices and Naoto-san is on their phone. “Not now,” Rise says, her voice thick. “Tomorrow’s too important. We can’t get distracted.”

Kanji-kun releases her wrist, and she pulls it to her chest, like she’s trying to protect it. “After, then,” he says.

“And you should talk to Naoto-san first.”

His brow furrows. “Why?”

“Because you liked them before you liked me.”

“Fucking Christ, Rise,” he says, and Rise’s surprised by the annoyed tone in his voice. “Of course I liked them first. I met them first! Don’t take it as a goddamn insult.” He stops, mindful of everyone around them. “But you’re right. We shouldn’t talk about it right now. We’ll have plenty of time once Adachi’s rotting in a jail cell.”

Rise nods and flees.

Yu is bleeding when Adachi falls. He can’t see it under his black uniform jacket, but he can feel it, seeping gently from a wound above his ribs. He wonders if it’ll scar.

Adachi was mostly focused on him throughout the fight. Yu thinks he figured out he’s been the leader the whole time and got angry, and that anger was only further aggravated when Yu summoned Izanagi.

Because Adachi’s Persona was also Izanagi.

A dark form of Izanagi, granted, but Izanagi nonetheless. Yu would know Izanagi anywhere; he’s part of him, after all.

I’ll have to have a word with Margaret and Igor about that, he thinks, eyes locked on Adachi, who still looks like he wants to fight. Did you know about this?

No, Izanagi says in his mind, and, for once, he sounds unsure of himself.

Yu loosens his grip and lets his sword fall to the ground. He stumbles, woozy, and it’s only Yosuke’s arms under his arms and around his waist that keep him from collapsing. Yosuke’s fingers feel for his wound and Yu feels his chest vibrate with a shout. He feels Yukiko’s cool healing magic wash over him seconds before his vision goes dark.

[areswriting]

a x e : iii

“Abram, did you hear me?”

Elise’s voice shakes with a second and third apology, but I keep my head down, hands folded tightly beneath my chin. Hockey practice and a four mile run did nothing to tame the beast inside me, so willing to rear its ugly head, so hard to contain. I don’t know what might crawl out of me if I speak to her, much less look at her.

“Abram, you can’t be mad at me over this,” Elise continues, her voice straining further. “We’re friends, right? Please, accept my apology. I didn’t mean it.”

Heart racing, I slide out of my seat and head for the door.

“Abram? Where are you going? Mrs. Pierce is trusting us not to leave!” The click of Elise’s heels on the tile lets me know she’s following me—as a warning to turn away, I push the door open with so much force that it hits the outside wall with a loud thud.

“Abram!” Elise shouts, and I feel her cold, bony hand snatch my forearm. She tries to urge me to face her just as I pull myself out of her graveyard of a grasp.

“You really need to leave me alone, Elise,” I say, stepping toward her.

Instinctively, she steps away—her back against a row of pale green lockers.

“I said I’m sorry,” she says. “Why can’t you just get over it? And not once have you said sorry to me, by the way.” She moves, as if she’s going to walk away, as if she’s going to get the last word, as if she’s going to add another insult to injury. “Strays can’t learn new tricks, can they?”

I shove my hands against the lockers, trapping her there.

“There you go again,” I say, slapping the ball of my right hand against a locker door. The whole thing moves and clatters. “What the hell do you want from me? One minute you declare our friendship and the next I’m just a stray with a fat girlfriend? Fuck that!” I shout the last words and hit the locker again, only this time with my fist. I feel my scars opening up, the blood trickling down my knuckles. But the ache in my chest is gone.

“I’m so goddamn tired of people like you—fucking manipulative and cruel people who only care about you when it’s convenient for them. I have enough of that in my life, I don’t want it from you. Do you hear me, Elise?” I move in closer and shout, “Do you hear me?” as I let my first slam into the locker again; this time it hits dangerously close to the left side of her head.

The blind rage fades and the look of complete terror on her face anchors me to the ground. I swear I think she’s shaking—and so am I. Half from anger, half from fear. What did I just do? I look at her closely—and I feel a weight lift off of my shoulders that there is no blood on her face. I had gone so mad with anger that I wasn’t fully aware of what I had just done until it was over. Bile rises in my throat and I turn away from her, ashamed that I allowed my father to root himself into me so deeply that he can come out whenever he wants.

△ ▼ △ ▼

I feel myself hyperventilating as I wash the blood from my hands; Crimson swirling down the sink—forever staining the bright white porcelain. I look at myself in the mirror and I see my mother looking back at me. With sad blue eyes and lips pinched into a thin line of disappointment, because my mother knew nothing of anger—and I greet it like an old friend.

I fling the water from my hands and look at the bathroom counter; a green pill bottle sits close to the sink from all of the times I considered taking them, but never have. The urge to take one rises and I run my fingers through my hair in thought.

A heart beat later, my phone buzzes from my pocket.

S: Kai?

I sink to the floor and stare at the screen of my phone, knees pulled against my chest.

K: Sylvia, I did something bad.

S: What happened?

K: I let my anger get the better of me and I scared not only myself, but someone else, too. A girl at my new school, she’s been pretty awful to me Syl. We got into an argument and I think I blacked out. I thought I hit her. I didn’t, I hit a locker but when I came out of it, I thought I did. I’m really scared. I’m not like this.

S: I know you’re not. Maybe she deserved it, then. Girls at that school can be terrible.

K: No one deserves that, Syl.

S: And you don’t deserve to be treated so poorly.

K: Who do you know here?

S: No one worth wasting time talking about. I’ll text you in the morning, I’m really tired.

K: Me too. I love you, Sylvia.

Hours later, I find the strength to pick myself up from the bathroom floor, but only enough to get me to my bed. I scroll through my call log—September, August, July, June…

Mom

↱ Mobile (617-555-0832) 5:52pm

My thumb hovers over the last time I called my mother—the last day that she was alive. With a deep breath, I tap the screen, and a picture of us smiling together pops up, and the line begins to trill. Once, twice…

“Hey, you’ve reached Emilia Dyer. I can’t take your call right now, but if you leave your name and number I’ll call you back! Thanks.”

The phone beeps and I swallow the lump in my throat.

“Maman, je ... Tu me manques vraiment en ce moment et, euh, j'avais besoin d'entendre ta voix ... Je t'aime.”

I choke back tears as I end the call, sending a voice message no one will ever hear.

△ ▼ △ ▼

I skate into a sea of white and green jerseys—usually a tactic to troll your opponent; but for me, at this game, it was like going home. I take my helmet off and tuck my stick under my arm. The Boston Bear’s goalie is the farthest away, but the first to notice me.

“Holy shit! Dyer?!” Brody hollers.

Everyone on their end of the ice turns to look at me—and before I know it I’m being knocked to the ground by almost off of my old teammates. Eventually, the dog pile ends and Brody helps me to my feet, his Cheshire-cat smile fully exposed as he pulls me in for a hug. I know we look like a couple being reunited—because everyone always thought we were. Some things never change, not even after months of absence.

“I can’t believe you go to this preppy bullshit school,” he

says. “At least they have a decent hockey program.”  

“Yeah,” adds Blake, who gives me a playful push. “Have you  grown a vagina yet?”

I laugh. “Not yet, but I think all of them have,” I say, using  my stick to point at the yellow and purple jerseys behind me.

“I miss you guys.”  

“Bro, we miss you, too,” says Blake. “Hey, no matter who wins or loses this one—we’re partying after.”

I nod and put my helmet back on before skating back to the right side of the ice for warm-ups. It’s bittersweet seeing my old teammates like this—and if it wasn’t for my competitive nature, I would throw the game so that they would win.  

Instead I play my heart out and focus on not passing the puck

to the wrong team. Their last names

printed bold and green are too familiar and I try not to fall into old habits.

I see the name ROSE on a yellow jersey and slap the puck to

him—mostly because he is the only person who is open. He is

able to get his stick on it and  slide it past Brody’s knee and

into the net. Everyone on the team gathers to celebrate his

goal and my assist—only I’m the odd man out, and  I get a

single pat on the helmet from a kid named Sebastian.  

I try to shake it off and continue to focus on winning the

game—which is tied 1-1. There’s no luck in the third period,

or the five minute overtime—so the game goes into a

shootout. A Bears forward goes first, but Tucker denies them.

Then Jason is up for us,  but he shoots right into Brody’s

glove.

Coach taps me on the shoulder and urges me onto the ice. I

skate to center ice and let the puck

dance from the end of my stick. The advantage I have on Brody is knowing all of his weak spots.

The advantage he has on me is knowing the move I always go for. It all comes down to speed. Can

he block me faster than I can get the puck over his shoulder?

No.

The buzzer sounds and the crowd cheers. I don’t even try to

celebrate with the guys in yellow. Instead I leave the ice

entirely.

△ ▼ △ ▼

S: How did your game go?

K: We won in a shootout! Bittersweet, tho. I played my old school. Upside is now we’re partying together.

S: Awesome. Don’t get too drunk and kiss other girls.

K: Baby, you’re the only person I want to kiss.

I put my phone back into my pocket and finish my beer. I thought I felt at home with them on the ice—but now I feel like I’m really at home. Their Coach rented the biggest cabin I’ve ever seen, and it reminded me so much of my aunt and my mother. Though there were a few things out of place—like drunk girls drowning in Chanel, and the random dude-bro here and there from Middlebury Academy. Though, they were like me. The rich bastard children of the school.

“Abram!” a shrill voice says. I look across the room to see Sophie waving her arm wildly at me. Thought I’m more concerned about who she has standing beside her. Elise.  

“You have a fan club?” asks Brody, who is sat beside me on the kitchen counter. “And you go by Abram now? What the f***, Kai?”

“Who is Kai, and where is my drink?” Sophie says, flinging her hair over her shoulder.

Brody grabs a bottle of Miller High Life and offers it to her. “This,” he inclines his head toward me, “is Kai. Who is your friend?” he asks, looking at Elise.

“Um, hello,” Sophie holds her hands up. “Acrylics. I can’t open that.” She looks at me after shoving the beer away. I notice Brody roll his eyes as he pops the cap off. “So you used to be called Kai? How is that a nick-name for Abram?”

“It isn’t,” I say. “Malachi is my middle name. I used to go by Kai,” I explain, and I pick up a bottle of beer and hold it out for Elise. “Brody, this is Elise, Elise, Brody.”

Brody flashes a smile at her. “Wow, Kai, things sure have changed for you, huh?” he jabs his elbow into my side and laughs.

“I’m surprised to see either of you here,” I say, mostly speaking to Elise. “I didn’t think that this was your type of scene.”

“Well, it isn’t the Ritz, but Elise here saw your Instagram story and you guys looked like you were having so much fun,” Sophie shrugs. “Plus, your Snapchap is geotagged. So we knew exactly where to find you.”

“That’s not fucking creepy or anything,” Brody whispers. I snort.

“So, Abram, you want to go somewhere quiet?” asks Sophie.

“Actually,” I clear my throat. “I need to talk to Elise about something.” I rub my fingers over my raw knuckles and swallow hard. “Come outside with me?”

I can see the hesitation from her body language but she nods, and I hop off of the counter. I lead Elise to the backdoor of the cabin, which opens up onto a huge wrap-around deck that overlooks the lake. I let her out first then shut the door behind us.

“We can go down to the bonfire if you want,” I say, gesturing to the stairs. “It is sort of cold.”

This time she takes charge and I follow behind her down the wooden stairs and onto grass. She takes a seat by the fire, and I sit far enough away from her to show that I’m not a threat.

“I want to tell you something,” I say, glancing from her to the fire. “Something I haven’t told anyone. Well, no one here.” I take a swallow of a fresh beer and run my hand down the side of my face. “Back in June, um, my mom died. Car accident,” I explain. “I was driving when someone came into our lane and hit us head on.”

I let out a shaky breath, the words burn as they come out, and I look at Elise. “She was everything to me, the only family I had, my best friend. And, uh. She’s gone…and now I’m here, where I don’t belong, forced to live with a man who has never claimed me as his own, and I know he never will. And, I’ve come to terms with that—or I thought I did. I don’t know. But what I do know, is that ever since I lost her, my world hasn’t been right. I haven’t been right.”

I turn to face her and I feel tears well in my eyes—I think she can see them pooling, but I don’t let them fall. I let them dry, like the back of my throat. “Sorry can’t fix what I did the other day, and I’m not using anything as an excuse—it’s just, I have no one, not really. I am a stray. And you insulted the one constant person in my life. And it hurt me, because I know how much it would hurt her if someone said something like that to her.”

“But even sometimes, I don’t have her,” I go on, and I am not sure why I am still talking about Sylvia. I sigh and shake my head. “I’m lonely, Elise. And you—you were the first person who gave me the time of day here—and yes you hurt me, but that doesn’t change anything. We have a connection, and…I think we need each other.” I lick my lips and scoot a little closer. “I can forgive you, but can you forgive me?”